[Fic] Deathbed-confessionals & Oath
EDIT: Okay call this a freakin' stroke Of AMAZING LUCK. but...okay I pushed 'preview' for my journal before I accidentally deleted it *what my previous post was about*....but...but...I never brought down the preview window. Never. I JUST NOW REALIZED THIS. OH MY GOD. *HEADDESK/SQUEE*
er okay yeah. *cough*
D-Deathbed-Confessional
Fandom: D. Gray Man
Pairing: Cross x Allen(14th)
Rating: T-character death
Summary: They knew it would happen eventually. After all, everyone dies eventually. A talk between Allen and Cross.
A/N: Again thought I LOST THIS BUT. I DIDN'T SO YAY. Oh yeah, SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 189! Do NOT read if you don't wanna spoil yourself. XD Sorry if the translation for the first quote isn't entirely correct. I got it off of I Eat Manga's translations on OneManga and I already know they've been iffy before. post-canon fic, slight speculation also XD
This time I will kill you...I will kill you and become the Millennium Earl! --[The 14th, D. Gray Man Chapter 189, page 14]
When he had been found, they had been relieved. In the midst of battle--when they needed him most--he had arrived. Bare backed and too high up on his high horse--some claimed (for he was no longer an Innocence User--at least, as far as they were aware of), but nonetheless, the General had survived. They had been surprised--of course, but then it wasn't as if they found the body. No, they had never--only the bloodstains remained, body carefully removed through broken glass.
It was no wonder, with the current turn of events, that they assumed the worst.
But they had had death before. Covered up in rags, sheets, dragged out under the watchful eyes of hesitant men and strong authority--the deaths were powerless. The night foreboding. Words left unspoken but written in plain ink documents--the very same that littered the floors of a certain redhead's room on a night such as tonight.
Yes. The General had survived. It had been recorded in History for the ages--ink, ink--and queasy stomachs.
Lavi had written those words. Bookman had approved.
The man had lived. The records were changed--but now--
Now, alone, in a dark room, they were to be changed again. As the man lay dying--massive trauma come back to haunt him from his miraculous recovery.
He has been sick a while Or so it goes, because they can no longer hide it. Hide the bleeding the man suffered. Hide the fact that he who had once been assumed dead but had arrived in such a flourish--a Hypocritical God.
Hypocritical because he was dying. Dying, dying, and it wasn't just him.
Leading to his deathbed--were equal amounts of death. Piled high bodies, regrets, and rebellions. Hurt, deceit, Lies that could fill many a scroll--many walls--scrawled with manmade tools on the walls of prisons from years gone past.
The tune was almost melodic.
The color pure as snow.
Skin like ivory.
Eyes like the haziest smoke on a winters day--a clouded sky, forcasting snow.
Take warning had been the precise term, when the man started to slip. When he started to play--hum--and the smiles grew a little faker. Yes, this had been recorded. Expected. The man's very existence wavered--yet he was still a boy. A boy of 15, maybe 16, and so much but too little ahead of him. With the memories of another corroding his brain.
It was no wonder he went insane.
It was no wonder the skin turned to ash--blackened with time--and the gray eyes turned to liquid amber with only power there--hidden in their depths.
The 14th has awakened.
And tears had fallen.
Blood red on familiar stones, and soil and soon what to be expected became the normal--the everyday the recorded bits fell away--fell away to piles on the tiled floor of a redheads room--to be ruffled by an opening window, and a soft tune and a startled body.
And he would whisper, "I am not here to hurt you."
A brush. Intimate. It had been...years.
Now they were at the deathbed. Skip forward in time--red hair slightly lengthened, eye patch still in place--
"I am not here to hurt you."
Distrust, amusement, soft touches, "Then why are you here?"
"Master is dying, is he not?" It was a simple question of a silhouette. It read--Need not write down. For it was just a silhouette--a person hidden in shadow. No silver. No Gold. No solid founding.
"And if he is?"
"Please lead me to him. I cannot pass through."
"I wonder why that is?"
A cascading chuckle, pleasant to the ears--and so belonging to a familiar voice, "Oh you should know. It's very obvious."
"Have you killed the Earl?"
"That man? Years ago. Why do you ask?"
"Then why--"
"Why must you treat me so cold. I used to be friends with you."
"Sentiment not returned."
Silhouettes should not frown. This one did--and the moonlight was blocked in one swift step--silver tresses, held back, and eyes--no longer golden but soft gray. "It meant nothing to you then."
"Not a thing." A creaking mattress, boots on floor--the redhead stood--
"You will not even...do this man a favor?"
"And I should because?"
"I need to see him."
"He's no longer your Master."
"He is to this body." A cringe, "And a dear friend to me. Please. I cannot harm you anymore than Allen could. I can only keep this facade up for hours."
"Hours?" Laughter now, "Hours. Right. And why? Why are you going through with something like this? You think it will help? Do you know how many people have gone mad because of you?"
Mad, mad, wasn't it a funny word?
"I know...but please." The man was waiting, "Please--this is...my deathbed as well."
"How do you figure that?"
"You've been searching for me haven't you?"
The redhead paused, then, gave a slight nod of his head.
"Well here I am. I do not expect to survive the night--for what I have done."
"I would hope not." The response was clipped and short, "That's why you came here, isn't it? My room?"
He gave a hesitant nod.
"Good of you to, then. Kick me in the gut why don'tcha?" A sigh, "Fine then, I'll show you." then he smiled a smile that seemed too much like home for comfort.
"You are--going to...?" With very reasonable surprise, "Is anyone going to--?"
"Trust me. One it's late--but late is no longer late until the sun comes up," He let out a hollow chuckle at the last bit, "And two--yes you pulled some serious shit, but--haha--most are too insane to care. They'll probably be happy you're back, until you realize you have a knife in your back."
Who was once Allen cringed, "I see. I suppose...especially Kanda--and Lenalee--"
"Maybe." Because he wouldn't lie as they got closer and closer and, "I wouldn't worry about Yuu though." But that's all he said, until they reached a familiar door.Two guards--simply two guards--both tensing.
"He's mine." Bookman Jr. said, before either could speak, and the weapons were lowered--if only slightly, "Oh come now Nick, Cleo, he's mine. Don't worry."
The was-Allen sighed again, and watched the proceedings--quick hurried words in a language he couldn't quite comprehend (and wasn't sure he wanted to), and wary glances before--
"We will have to tell Komui you know."
"Let the guy sleep." Hurtful glances, "He's already been through enough."
"Kanda then." He gave them a look, "We don't...care for....your relations," Cleo said, testily, eyes flitting between them, "But if anything were to...happen...he would."
Lavi sighed, "Fine fine." And then they relaxed, finally, and stepped aside, door opening immediately to the redhead's light touch as they made it into the room--and--there--on the bed.
Cross Marian.
Was-Allen sucked in his breath, pained, "That's...him....?"
"Should you have expected anything less?" On wobbly legs the silver haired now-man stumbled forward to the edge, to sit on the chair there. Lavi sighed again, "It's partially your fault."
"Figures he'd never change, even so close to death." Lavi tensed, Allen chuckled, "What?" and a hand reached out to grab a gloved one, Lavi tensed further--"what? He's my Master of course I--"
They both jumped when the hand squeezed back, tiredly, words choked, "is that...you...Fourteenth."
Ah, ah, ah...tired eyes vs surprised.
"Ma--Cross., So good of you to wake up.'
The man frowned, turning his head to look back at the ceiling, "Stop screwing with my head." A pause, "You really took over the boy's body."
"He is no longer a boy, you know."
"Isn't that obvious?"
"It's rather attractive, isn't it?"
Bookman coughed, but said nothing.
A biting--howling--laugh, "Yes. Maybe. I warned him, didn't I?" Their eyes met for half a second, "The Earl is dead."
"Has been. Years."
"You won't even try, will you?"
"The boy wants me to. He breaks out sometimes. When I least expect it."
"You let him to humor him, don't you?"
"Yes""No."
Cross's eyes widened, Lavi took a step back--oh--"I...take over...because I. Can." He was shaking, but it was Allen, Allen--Allen--a million times over, Allen, "I don't mind if you kill me. I broke my promise."
"Your Innocence doesn't believe you have." A good point like any, and a dying man pointed it out.
"Because I can't use it anymore. I have--" Allen swallowed, "I can't--it hurts to move that hand." Except it had been the one he used to grab Cross's hand--it was a lie--"I'd--please just...I know if they find me here I'm as good as dead." So get it over with. He bowed his head. Admission if there was ever an allowance.
Cross simply chuckled, "You were never meant to do die with me." and Allen's head snapped up, eyes wide, mouth open, "I am. dying, brat." the man cut off whatever he had been about to say, "I am too many years older than you--too many more wounds--too many--not to mention you're very obviously alive."
A choked sob, "But--"
"No buts." A pause, "Mana loved you." Allen tensed, Lavi tensed--Mana, Mana, Mana, "Hell if I know he could differentiate you--but I don't think it matters at this point," A sputtering cough, "Mana's dead. Don't live for a dead man--live for the living. If that means..." he coughed again, it sounded bloody, "something then...take it, dammit--you idiot apprentice of mine."
"But I'm horrible!" "And you'd better not be putting any ideas in his head."
"I'm not."
The eyes, flickered, cold--it was the 14th again, "I'm not." Cross answered easily as if he hadn't noticed the change, "I'm just a dying man. You haven't killed Allen--he's still alive. Let him live."
"And be a pest?"
"You'd hate it if your host died too--you fucking prick."
It was a mixed laugh, then, "I suppose. He quite likes you--even if he hates you and--" And then--Lavi's eyes widened as the head of white (shoulder length--spilling over shoulders--) stood and leaned over the bed--lips pressed quick, short, profound, "I suppose that suffices enough." He shot a quick glance at Bookman, "I would like to stay here a while."
With the dying man--and--
Lavi turned, and left the room, an uneasy feeling in each bootstep until an hour had passed, and he decided--maybe he should check in on them. He had sent the guards away some time ago, anyway, and even Kanda had gone back eventually (after some convincing).
So he opened the door, slowly, lest he disturb them and--Blood. Blood. Blood.
Two bodies, lying on the bed. Covered in blood, barely breathing--if not cold entirely.
He sucked in his breath.
"You know." And a figure standing over them, cloaked in darkness, "He really did just try to kill me."
O-Oath
Fandom: D. Gray Man
Pairing: 14th x Cross
Rating: T
Summary: It started with an out-of-tune piano. And an Oath.
A/N: The second one I THOUGHT HAD BEEN DELETED. But wound up not being. Can I say how epically HAPPY I am right now? Um, but anyway...this has a fair bit of speculation in it. Also it's pre-canon so I'm being purposely vague on certain things (like ages).
For: pywen
It came in a really bad flourish of music notes, when they met. A short glance at best at a bar somewhere downtown and Cross had thought--at the time--the man sucked, quite literally, at playing the piano. Not that he ever had an appreciation for music, but at least he knew what was decent and what was glaringly bad. With all the notes being played in quick succession it felt mashed and rushed and--yet people were listening.
Gathered around, listening.
Pulled in, listening, and it was then that he found something odd about it. And it wasn't until a few had turned to him that he realized--Oh shit. Noah. Akuma and--he barely had time to draw Judgment before he decided that fuck that--he was going to hightail it. Draw them out, but--the music--the notes--
"Why are you running?"
He had frozen in place when the music stopped and the Akuma screamed--screamed screamed and howled--exploded. He barely had time to turn--no--no--he couldn't.
The man was there, smiling easily, curious, "Why are you running?" He asked again, and soon Cross found the man's hand on his damned shoulder and--he tried to shrug it off but winced when the grip tightened, "You know you'd rather stay in town. After all, most here area already Akuma anyway."
A few more Akuma screamed in pain and exploded--and--it was almost sickening, because of their 'human' skin.
"But some aren't." He bit out, managing to pull away, but stumbling a little, "You're destroying them. Why--"
"Oh, my older brother is in this town too."
Cross tensed, "What?" Another Noah?
"These Akuma were sent after me. Of course I'd kill them. The dear Earl loves me so much." A wry grin, Cross was confused--"You're an Exorcist, aren't you?"
The redhead nodded, dumbly, and soon he was being dragged--wait--wait--"Where are you--"
"This way this way." Back to the piano, and Cross cringed again when he saw--three--four--five--ten--Akuma swarming only to explode. The actual humans were screaming now--"Oh my God--Oh my God--" Did most even believe in God?
A horrible cord was played and suddenly--
A white room.
A white room, with a piano and, "Watch."
What?
"You're an Exorcist aren't you?" the man repeated.
"I already answered that."
"Your jacket explains everything." Well. That didn't make any sense. The man went to the piano--white, and black keys, and--he waited for the glaringly bad sound. Only for it not to come, "Ah--good--that piano was so out of tune." The man sighed, pushing hair back, laughing jovially as he pressed the keys down--in a melody--in a--
"Don't fall asleep now." How could he when he was standing? Ah, a couch, "Sit. If you'd like. Brother just left. We'll meet him."
Meet who?
He couldn't even ask before the man decided they were there and he had a dizzying feeling in the pit of his stomach before--it hit him--and--his stomach hurled. Great. Just. Great.
"Brother?" They were at a fucking carnival. The hell?
"Mana!" Arms, reaching out--huuuuug--and--"You, come quickly, inside."
He was dragged in before he could even blink--sitting, with hotchocolate, with Judgment out in the open so they could see--so he could make a run for it if it was a trap, which he was sure it was--why would the Earl go after his own members?
"Because I killed them." He tensed, "All of them. Except Dear-Sister-Rhode." He let out a chuckle, "She's the youngest, you know. Youngest Noah ever. Too young to kill. I'd feel bad." A perverse sense of honor? What?
"And the others weren't worth it?"
"Exactly. You know. Your Order does something similar." NO they don't. Except he knew they did. In secret, "They throw away the defects. The Innocence rejects them. They die. So sad isn't it?" the man let out a bitter laugh and his brother clucked--not bothering to take off the clown makeup. Cross half wondered why.
"It's better than keeping them alive."
"It's better to leave them alone than to force it."
Cross scowled into his cup. He wasn't so thirsty anymore. Not that he had been. He almost wanted to pour it out.
"Makes you wonder what's so Innocent about anything."
"Corruption isn't Innocent." Mana murmured.
"Never is, brother." The Noah sighed, turning back to him--and sitting down. Cross stiffened, "You are going to drink that?" He took an unwilling sip, "You are going to help us." He coughed, splashing some over the side, to burn his hands, "Tch--Goodness."
A handkerchief and--the man smelled nice and--he was deadly, and--Judgment tingled in his grip--"What." it was one word. Not even a question.
"Help us."
"Why?"
"I want to kill the Earl. As much as he wants to kill me."
Judgment tingled again. The man smiled.
"I don't believe you."
"You know yourself that others have found the Noah. Dead. And not by their hands." Cross tensed, the handkerchief hadn't moved--the hands still gripped his--expectant, "Why would I kill my own brother's and sisters without intent to kill the man behind them?" He shook his head, closed his golden eyes, "Corrupt--he is corrupt too. I only want to...purify...the clan, and maybe--just maybe--my new Brother's and Sister's will be more willing to cooperate."
He squeezed his hands. More liquid sloshed. But it was fine.
Or.
"Do I have your oath?"
Cross's lip twitched, "I haven't even agreed."
"But you will." That was Mana--now--in a coat and top hat, nice buttoned up shirt underneath--no clown makeup, and heavy shoes--perfect for traveling, "Please say you will."
This could be a trap--it could be--like the hot chocolate and the warm milk that was poured in--and the horrible keys on the piano that made a melody, but then beauty too.
"You need to warn your side." The Noah's voice was low. A whisper, "The war will change. Eventually. The Earl--may find me. May kill me. The Order will not trust a Noah. So you must--" He looked at the Innocence resting on his hip, and frowned, "See? If you agree you will not turn into a Fallen. You will not--I promise you."
"You'll turn me into an Akuma as well?"
Another frown.
"No, no, brother wouldn't do that."
"It's impossible to turn an Exorcist into one anyway."
He didn't quite believe them. He didn't quite understand them. But, "You want to kill the Earl?" The man nodded, "You--a Noah--want to kill your own..."
"Yes. I do." Conviction there--flashing in his eyes, "Do I have your oath?"
If the Earl dies, they revert back to humans.
Or at least that had been the original assumption.
He kept one alive.
For purposes he didn't know, but, he assumed he would. So he nodded, gripped the man's hands back, and said, "Fine. You have my Oath."
He had to wonder if it was a mistake.
But then--he could trust Judgment, couldn't he? He was still alive.
er okay yeah. *cough*
D-Deathbed-Confessional
Fandom: D. Gray Man
Pairing: Cross x Allen(14th)
Rating: T-character death
Summary: They knew it would happen eventually. After all, everyone dies eventually. A talk between Allen and Cross.
A/N: Again thought I LOST THIS BUT. I DIDN'T SO YAY. Oh yeah, SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 189! Do NOT read if you don't wanna spoil yourself. XD Sorry if the translation for the first quote isn't entirely correct. I got it off of I Eat Manga's translations on OneManga and I already know they've been iffy before. post-canon fic, slight speculation also XD
This time I will kill you...I will kill you and become the Millennium Earl! --[The 14th, D. Gray Man Chapter 189, page 14]
When he had been found, they had been relieved. In the midst of battle--when they needed him most--he had arrived. Bare backed and too high up on his high horse--some claimed (for he was no longer an Innocence User--at least, as far as they were aware of), but nonetheless, the General had survived. They had been surprised--of course, but then it wasn't as if they found the body. No, they had never--only the bloodstains remained, body carefully removed through broken glass.
It was no wonder, with the current turn of events, that they assumed the worst.
But they had had death before. Covered up in rags, sheets, dragged out under the watchful eyes of hesitant men and strong authority--the deaths were powerless. The night foreboding. Words left unspoken but written in plain ink documents--the very same that littered the floors of a certain redhead's room on a night such as tonight.
Yes. The General had survived. It had been recorded in History for the ages--ink, ink--and queasy stomachs.
Lavi had written those words. Bookman had approved.
The man had lived. The records were changed--but now--
Now, alone, in a dark room, they were to be changed again. As the man lay dying--massive trauma come back to haunt him from his miraculous recovery.
He has been sick a while Or so it goes, because they can no longer hide it. Hide the bleeding the man suffered. Hide the fact that he who had once been assumed dead but had arrived in such a flourish--a Hypocritical God.
Hypocritical because he was dying. Dying, dying, and it wasn't just him.
Leading to his deathbed--were equal amounts of death. Piled high bodies, regrets, and rebellions. Hurt, deceit, Lies that could fill many a scroll--many walls--scrawled with manmade tools on the walls of prisons from years gone past.
The tune was almost melodic.
The color pure as snow.
Skin like ivory.
Eyes like the haziest smoke on a winters day--a clouded sky, forcasting snow.
Take warning had been the precise term, when the man started to slip. When he started to play--hum--and the smiles grew a little faker. Yes, this had been recorded. Expected. The man's very existence wavered--yet he was still a boy. A boy of 15, maybe 16, and so much but too little ahead of him. With the memories of another corroding his brain.
It was no wonder he went insane.
It was no wonder the skin turned to ash--blackened with time--and the gray eyes turned to liquid amber with only power there--hidden in their depths.
The 14th has awakened.
And tears had fallen.
Blood red on familiar stones, and soil and soon what to be expected became the normal--the everyday the recorded bits fell away--fell away to piles on the tiled floor of a redheads room--to be ruffled by an opening window, and a soft tune and a startled body.
And he would whisper, "I am not here to hurt you."
A brush. Intimate. It had been...years.
Now they were at the deathbed. Skip forward in time--red hair slightly lengthened, eye patch still in place--
"I am not here to hurt you."
Distrust, amusement, soft touches, "Then why are you here?"
"Master is dying, is he not?" It was a simple question of a silhouette. It read--Need not write down. For it was just a silhouette--a person hidden in shadow. No silver. No Gold. No solid founding.
"And if he is?"
"Please lead me to him. I cannot pass through."
"I wonder why that is?"
A cascading chuckle, pleasant to the ears--and so belonging to a familiar voice, "Oh you should know. It's very obvious."
"Have you killed the Earl?"
"That man? Years ago. Why do you ask?"
"Then why--"
"Why must you treat me so cold. I used to be friends with you."
"Sentiment not returned."
Silhouettes should not frown. This one did--and the moonlight was blocked in one swift step--silver tresses, held back, and eyes--no longer golden but soft gray. "It meant nothing to you then."
"Not a thing." A creaking mattress, boots on floor--the redhead stood--
"You will not even...do this man a favor?"
"And I should because?"
"I need to see him."
"He's no longer your Master."
"He is to this body." A cringe, "And a dear friend to me. Please. I cannot harm you anymore than Allen could. I can only keep this facade up for hours."
"Hours?" Laughter now, "Hours. Right. And why? Why are you going through with something like this? You think it will help? Do you know how many people have gone mad because of you?"
Mad, mad, wasn't it a funny word?
"I know...but please." The man was waiting, "Please--this is...my deathbed as well."
"How do you figure that?"
"You've been searching for me haven't you?"
The redhead paused, then, gave a slight nod of his head.
"Well here I am. I do not expect to survive the night--for what I have done."
"I would hope not." The response was clipped and short, "That's why you came here, isn't it? My room?"
He gave a hesitant nod.
"Good of you to, then. Kick me in the gut why don'tcha?" A sigh, "Fine then, I'll show you." then he smiled a smile that seemed too much like home for comfort.
"You are--going to...?" With very reasonable surprise, "Is anyone going to--?"
"Trust me. One it's late--but late is no longer late until the sun comes up," He let out a hollow chuckle at the last bit, "And two--yes you pulled some serious shit, but--haha--most are too insane to care. They'll probably be happy you're back, until you realize you have a knife in your back."
Who was once Allen cringed, "I see. I suppose...especially Kanda--and Lenalee--"
"Maybe." Because he wouldn't lie as they got closer and closer and, "I wouldn't worry about Yuu though." But that's all he said, until they reached a familiar door.Two guards--simply two guards--both tensing.
"He's mine." Bookman Jr. said, before either could speak, and the weapons were lowered--if only slightly, "Oh come now Nick, Cleo, he's mine. Don't worry."
The was-Allen sighed again, and watched the proceedings--quick hurried words in a language he couldn't quite comprehend (and wasn't sure he wanted to), and wary glances before--
"We will have to tell Komui you know."
"Let the guy sleep." Hurtful glances, "He's already been through enough."
"Kanda then." He gave them a look, "We don't...care for....your relations," Cleo said, testily, eyes flitting between them, "But if anything were to...happen...he would."
Lavi sighed, "Fine fine." And then they relaxed, finally, and stepped aside, door opening immediately to the redhead's light touch as they made it into the room--and--there--on the bed.
Cross Marian.
Was-Allen sucked in his breath, pained, "That's...him....?"
"Should you have expected anything less?" On wobbly legs the silver haired now-man stumbled forward to the edge, to sit on the chair there. Lavi sighed again, "It's partially your fault."
"Figures he'd never change, even so close to death." Lavi tensed, Allen chuckled, "What?" and a hand reached out to grab a gloved one, Lavi tensed further--"what? He's my Master of course I--"
They both jumped when the hand squeezed back, tiredly, words choked, "is that...you...Fourteenth."
Ah, ah, ah...tired eyes vs surprised.
"Ma--Cross., So good of you to wake up.'
The man frowned, turning his head to look back at the ceiling, "Stop screwing with my head." A pause, "You really took over the boy's body."
"He is no longer a boy, you know."
"Isn't that obvious?"
"It's rather attractive, isn't it?"
Bookman coughed, but said nothing.
A biting--howling--laugh, "Yes. Maybe. I warned him, didn't I?" Their eyes met for half a second, "The Earl is dead."
"Has been. Years."
"You won't even try, will you?"
"The boy wants me to. He breaks out sometimes. When I least expect it."
"You let him to humor him, don't you?"
"Yes""No."
Cross's eyes widened, Lavi took a step back--oh--"I...take over...because I. Can." He was shaking, but it was Allen, Allen--Allen--a million times over, Allen, "I don't mind if you kill me. I broke my promise."
"Your Innocence doesn't believe you have." A good point like any, and a dying man pointed it out.
"Because I can't use it anymore. I have--" Allen swallowed, "I can't--it hurts to move that hand." Except it had been the one he used to grab Cross's hand--it was a lie--"I'd--please just...I know if they find me here I'm as good as dead." So get it over with. He bowed his head. Admission if there was ever an allowance.
Cross simply chuckled, "You were never meant to do die with me." and Allen's head snapped up, eyes wide, mouth open, "I am. dying, brat." the man cut off whatever he had been about to say, "I am too many years older than you--too many more wounds--too many--not to mention you're very obviously alive."
A choked sob, "But--"
"No buts." A pause, "Mana loved you." Allen tensed, Lavi tensed--Mana, Mana, Mana, "Hell if I know he could differentiate you--but I don't think it matters at this point," A sputtering cough, "Mana's dead. Don't live for a dead man--live for the living. If that means..." he coughed again, it sounded bloody, "something then...take it, dammit--you idiot apprentice of mine."
"But I'm horrible!" "And you'd better not be putting any ideas in his head."
"I'm not."
The eyes, flickered, cold--it was the 14th again, "I'm not." Cross answered easily as if he hadn't noticed the change, "I'm just a dying man. You haven't killed Allen--he's still alive. Let him live."
"And be a pest?"
"You'd hate it if your host died too--you fucking prick."
It was a mixed laugh, then, "I suppose. He quite likes you--even if he hates you and--" And then--Lavi's eyes widened as the head of white (shoulder length--spilling over shoulders--) stood and leaned over the bed--lips pressed quick, short, profound, "I suppose that suffices enough." He shot a quick glance at Bookman, "I would like to stay here a while."
With the dying man--and--
Lavi turned, and left the room, an uneasy feeling in each bootstep until an hour had passed, and he decided--maybe he should check in on them. He had sent the guards away some time ago, anyway, and even Kanda had gone back eventually (after some convincing).
So he opened the door, slowly, lest he disturb them and--Blood. Blood. Blood.
Two bodies, lying on the bed. Covered in blood, barely breathing--if not cold entirely.
He sucked in his breath.
"You know." And a figure standing over them, cloaked in darkness, "He really did just try to kill me."
O-Oath
Fandom: D. Gray Man
Pairing: 14th x Cross
Rating: T
Summary: It started with an out-of-tune piano. And an Oath.
A/N: The second one I THOUGHT HAD BEEN DELETED. But wound up not being. Can I say how epically HAPPY I am right now? Um, but anyway...this has a fair bit of speculation in it. Also it's pre-canon so I'm being purposely vague on certain things (like ages).
For: pywen
It came in a really bad flourish of music notes, when they met. A short glance at best at a bar somewhere downtown and Cross had thought--at the time--the man sucked, quite literally, at playing the piano. Not that he ever had an appreciation for music, but at least he knew what was decent and what was glaringly bad. With all the notes being played in quick succession it felt mashed and rushed and--yet people were listening.
Gathered around, listening.
Pulled in, listening, and it was then that he found something odd about it. And it wasn't until a few had turned to him that he realized--Oh shit. Noah. Akuma and--he barely had time to draw Judgment before he decided that fuck that--he was going to hightail it. Draw them out, but--the music--the notes--
"Why are you running?"
He had frozen in place when the music stopped and the Akuma screamed--screamed screamed and howled--exploded. He barely had time to turn--no--no--he couldn't.
The man was there, smiling easily, curious, "Why are you running?" He asked again, and soon Cross found the man's hand on his damned shoulder and--he tried to shrug it off but winced when the grip tightened, "You know you'd rather stay in town. After all, most here area already Akuma anyway."
A few more Akuma screamed in pain and exploded--and--it was almost sickening, because of their 'human' skin.
"But some aren't." He bit out, managing to pull away, but stumbling a little, "You're destroying them. Why--"
"Oh, my older brother is in this town too."
Cross tensed, "What?" Another Noah?
"These Akuma were sent after me. Of course I'd kill them. The dear Earl loves me so much." A wry grin, Cross was confused--"You're an Exorcist, aren't you?"
The redhead nodded, dumbly, and soon he was being dragged--wait--wait--"Where are you--"
"This way this way." Back to the piano, and Cross cringed again when he saw--three--four--five--ten--Akuma swarming only to explode. The actual humans were screaming now--"Oh my God--Oh my God--" Did most even believe in God?
A horrible cord was played and suddenly--
A white room.
A white room, with a piano and, "Watch."
What?
"You're an Exorcist aren't you?" the man repeated.
"I already answered that."
"Your jacket explains everything." Well. That didn't make any sense. The man went to the piano--white, and black keys, and--he waited for the glaringly bad sound. Only for it not to come, "Ah--good--that piano was so out of tune." The man sighed, pushing hair back, laughing jovially as he pressed the keys down--in a melody--in a--
"Don't fall asleep now." How could he when he was standing? Ah, a couch, "Sit. If you'd like. Brother just left. We'll meet him."
Meet who?
He couldn't even ask before the man decided they were there and he had a dizzying feeling in the pit of his stomach before--it hit him--and--his stomach hurled. Great. Just. Great.
"Brother?" They were at a fucking carnival. The hell?
"Mana!" Arms, reaching out--huuuuug--and--"You, come quickly, inside."
He was dragged in before he could even blink--sitting, with hotchocolate, with Judgment out in the open so they could see--so he could make a run for it if it was a trap, which he was sure it was--why would the Earl go after his own members?
"Because I killed them." He tensed, "All of them. Except Dear-Sister-Rhode." He let out a chuckle, "She's the youngest, you know. Youngest Noah ever. Too young to kill. I'd feel bad." A perverse sense of honor? What?
"And the others weren't worth it?"
"Exactly. You know. Your Order does something similar." NO they don't. Except he knew they did. In secret, "They throw away the defects. The Innocence rejects them. They die. So sad isn't it?" the man let out a bitter laugh and his brother clucked--not bothering to take off the clown makeup. Cross half wondered why.
"It's better than keeping them alive."
"It's better to leave them alone than to force it."
Cross scowled into his cup. He wasn't so thirsty anymore. Not that he had been. He almost wanted to pour it out.
"Makes you wonder what's so Innocent about anything."
"Corruption isn't Innocent." Mana murmured.
"Never is, brother." The Noah sighed, turning back to him--and sitting down. Cross stiffened, "You are going to drink that?" He took an unwilling sip, "You are going to help us." He coughed, splashing some over the side, to burn his hands, "Tch--Goodness."
A handkerchief and--the man smelled nice and--he was deadly, and--Judgment tingled in his grip--"What." it was one word. Not even a question.
"Help us."
"Why?"
"I want to kill the Earl. As much as he wants to kill me."
Judgment tingled again. The man smiled.
"I don't believe you."
"You know yourself that others have found the Noah. Dead. And not by their hands." Cross tensed, the handkerchief hadn't moved--the hands still gripped his--expectant, "Why would I kill my own brother's and sisters without intent to kill the man behind them?" He shook his head, closed his golden eyes, "Corrupt--he is corrupt too. I only want to...purify...the clan, and maybe--just maybe--my new Brother's and Sister's will be more willing to cooperate."
He squeezed his hands. More liquid sloshed. But it was fine.
Or.
"Do I have your oath?"
Cross's lip twitched, "I haven't even agreed."
"But you will." That was Mana--now--in a coat and top hat, nice buttoned up shirt underneath--no clown makeup, and heavy shoes--perfect for traveling, "Please say you will."
This could be a trap--it could be--like the hot chocolate and the warm milk that was poured in--and the horrible keys on the piano that made a melody, but then beauty too.
"You need to warn your side." The Noah's voice was low. A whisper, "The war will change. Eventually. The Earl--may find me. May kill me. The Order will not trust a Noah. So you must--" He looked at the Innocence resting on his hip, and frowned, "See? If you agree you will not turn into a Fallen. You will not--I promise you."
"You'll turn me into an Akuma as well?"
Another frown.
"No, no, brother wouldn't do that."
"It's impossible to turn an Exorcist into one anyway."
He didn't quite believe them. He didn't quite understand them. But, "You want to kill the Earl?" The man nodded, "You--a Noah--want to kill your own..."
"Yes. I do." Conviction there--flashing in his eyes, "Do I have your oath?"
If the Earl dies, they revert back to humans.
Or at least that had been the original assumption.
He kept one alive.
For purposes he didn't know, but, he assumed he would. So he nodded, gripped the man's hands back, and said, "Fine. You have my Oath."
He had to wonder if it was a mistake.
But then--he could trust Judgment, couldn't he? He was still alive.