who doesn't love demons and the circus?
Ah, hello there. ...I'm just going to pretend there isn't a three-year gap. Have a fic!
Oh, and in the really unlikely event that anyone is still waiting for me to post more Harry Potter fic...I am so, so sorry. This is D.Gray-Man fic. Randomly.
Thank you to my wonderful betas, Zephy and bluecowdied, for being so smart and grammatically correct and, you know, for putting up with me. *loves*
And jayazz has now done a translation in Russian. :D
Moving Forward
“The line separating great showmanship from brazen deception is indistinct.” --Lee Kolozsy
Basically it fell out like this: Cross died.
I guess other people might not think that was the most important thing that happened, what with lots of other people dying and the destruction of the Noah and the way my Allen up and killed the Earl and big explosions or whatever, but for me? Cross died.
He wasn’t ever supposed to die. Allen and I were counting on that, you know? He was too much of a bastard to die. He was a lying, drunken, scheming womanizer, and we both figured God would do pretty much anything to keep him away as long as possible. Seems God’s got a higher tolerance for nasty human beings than we thought. Sort of kills a golem’s sense of purpose, having his boss die.
It’s one thing for Allen. Allen’s got plans of his own. I never had plans; people generally don’t even know I can think. It’s not like Cross was real forthcoming with that kind of information. Any kind of information.
He picked us up like two shiny shells on two different beaches, acted like he didn’t know we were two halves of a whole. Allen and Timcampy, Timcampy and Allen. The Musician. Bastard didn’t even have the decency to find us creepy.
Instead he used us, abused us, and then left us behind. It’s goddamn typical, is what.
* * *
Like I said, big explosions, and a lot of them were Allen’s fault. And since the big explosions were happening on some weird alternate reality plane, the debris from the explosions landed, you know, all over the world. We ended up in some random woods in Wales because we’re lucky like that. No one had a blind clue where everyone else was, and odds seemed pretty good that they’d mostly wound up in the ocean and drowned. The kids didn’t really mention that possibility, but you knew Bookman was thinking it. You could see it lurking there in his crazy catatonic eyes. Eye. Whatever. And my Allen was thinking it too, because my Allen always thinks of the worst thing first. Bless his morbid little heart.
Yeah, so. The kids. They weren’t doing so well. Only reason they were all together was because they’d been huddled like a big human ball when the whole thing blew, and I was there because I’d had a death grip on Allen’s hair. Jaws of doom! It was lucky, I guess. It didn’t look too lucky at first, though, because they were sitting there broken with all their scars showing, and it was freaking depressing. I hung out with Kanda, mostly. He’s always been the worst at hiding what’s wrong with him, so it wasn’t such an awful change, seeing him not even try. Bookman, though. That boy’s got problems I never even thought of before. Cross always said the Bookmen were 15 kinds of wacky, and as much as I don’t like to pick up Cross’s opinions, sometimes the guy had it right. Looks like this was one of those times.
So we had my Allen, Lenalee, Kanda, and Lavi-as-was, who was the Bookman by then; we all saw the old guy die. Get impaled. Yeah, it was pretty nasty. Cross, at least, went with some kind of style. Me and Allen, we’ve got that. Whatever’s left of Cross probably thinks the whole thing is funny as hell, too. I mean, he fought that shapeshifting Noah to a standstill, filled her full of bullets-he always did like killing things that looked like beautiful women, make of that what you will-and then he got run over by an akuma that looked like an elephant, and somehow that managed to kill him. Probably just because he wasn’t paying attention.
You know, it had that kind of surreal class to it. ‘And then he got run over by an elephant.’ I like it. Makes a good story.
Allen hadn’t gotten around to appreciating the humor in it, though. He was just sitting there wishing he was dead. He does this every time, right? He survives against all odds, and then he sits around looking alternately really tired and really pissed off about it. ‘Cut me some slack, here,’ he’s thinking. ‘Haven’t I done enough for you; can’t I rest now?’ It’s some kind of insult that Cross went first. Guess there’s only rest for the wicked.
Lenalee, she was like a puppet with her strings cut, and no wonder. She didn’t know if her brother was alive or not, and even if he was, he could be anywhere. And if he was dead, that was her will to live done and dusted.
Bookman’d gone catatonic, like I say. Think he was thinking that it wouldn’t have turned out the way it did if he’d kept his distance like he was supposed to, so he was making up for it overtime. He was keeping so far away he couldn’t even speak, and yet he was watching everything like a hawk. Creepy.
Then there was Kanda, who by comparison was acting pretty normal. For him. He looked lost and confused and he was holding his chest like he couldn’t believe his heart was still beating, but he didn’t look like he wanted it to stop beating, so that gave him points over my Allen.
Anyway, I was sure they’d be fine eventually. They’d all lost everything before.
* * *
On the second day, Kanda started feeding them. It was, let me say, the most hilarious thing I have ever seen.
First he got up (which was crazy exciting) and found his way to some little town where they either couldn’t speak English or were refusing to on principle, and he haggled for some food. Several silver buttons and one spectacular temper tantrum later, he’d gotten it, and then he went back to share the bounty, right? I thought, this is gonna be good.
Started out easily enough; he went to Bookman and gave him some bread or something, and Bookman took it and ate it. He ate it with an eerie thousand yard stare, but he did eat.
Next he tried Lenalee. She wouldn’t eat on her own, but she would chew and swallow when he actually put stuff in her mouth. It was like watching Kanda feed a grown-up baby. It was disturbing in so many ways.
Ah, and then there was my Allen. You could see that little space of time where Kanda stood there and thought, I could just let him starve; who would know? But Kanda, he’s got inherent goodness. That’s the funniest damn thing about him. He only wishes he hated everyone.
So, help us, he tried to feed Allen too.
Offering food did no good, Allen still being in the “why can’t I die; other people make it look so easy” phase. Then Kanda got this expression of long-suffering and tried to hand feed him, but that doesn’t work so well either if you’re getting no cooperation at all. Then he got a totally evil gleam in the eye and tried force-feeding. And then my Allen tried to kill him.
Hey, it was a response! It was definitely progress. Kanda was maybe not in a position to appreciate that, being all pinned against a tree by the Claw o’ Doom, but it totally was progress! And then Allen collapsed because he obviously hadn’t been eating and definitely didn’t have enough energy to maintain an activated Innocence. He can be dumb in strange ways.
So it was like this: Kanda was slumped against a tree telling Allen all about how he hoped he starved to death and that was absolutely the last time Kanda was ever going to do a damn thing for him, and Allen was slumped against another tree telling Kanda all about how he had never asked for shit from Kanda in the first place and he didn’t want his pity and why was everyone incapable of leaving him alone for five minutes together. And then Kanda kept going with the insults and Allen descended into hissing. Like a cat.
He really is just like a cat. I love cats, I do. I wish they wouldn’t spend so much time trying to eat me, but they’re great with the way they hiss and spit and hate on everything, and then when they want something from you they curl up and purr and act adorable. I can’t decide if I love cats because I love Allen, or if it’s the other way around. Whichever.
In any case, the boys had a long fight in which basically nothing was said. Like so many of their fights. In fact, they have a definite pattern going.
“I can’t believe you’re hissing at me. Is that some kind of Noah communication?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you should have let me starve since I’m practically a Noah.”
“Maybe I should have let you starve because you piss me off.”
“Maybe you should have let me starve because it’s none of your business what I do.”
“I just didn’t want to have to worry about your corpse, suicidal beansprout.”
“My name is Allen.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be grateful when people do things for you?”
“Do things like try to choke me with moldy bread!?”
“That bread is perfect, and it was goddamn hard to come by. Now shut up and eat it before you pass out.”
“I’m not going to pass out!”
“You are going to pass out, and it’s going to be annoying.”
They went on. At length and with hurtful personal comments. But not that hurtful, and that gave me some hope with my Allen. If he was hurting badly enough, then he’d be wanting to hurt back, and when Allen wants to hurt, he can hurt badly. He’s a charmer; he always knows how to say what people want to hear. The flip side to always knowing what people want to hear is knowing exactly what they don’t want to hear. It’s not often Allen uses that, but when he does, damn.
Kanda’s an easy mark, too. Like I said, he doesn’t hide stuff too well, and he’s got his little personal mission to find someone. Someone he’s never actually managed to find. Allen knows that because Allen listens too much, and I know it because people don’t think I can think. I know lots of stuff I wish I didn’t know.
I bet Allen could pretty well lay Kanda open by mentioning the personal mission. Allen knows it, too. He didn’t do it, though.
Hey, maybe he’s not as messed up as I thought. Plus he ate the rest of their food and Kanda drove him off in a rage to get more. They’re practically being themselves.
* * *
It took a lot of days and many disturbing hand feedings (to say nothing of deeply weird guided trips to the toilet), but eventually Lenalee got her head sorted out the way she wanted it, and then she just woke up normal one morning. That was pretty disturbing in its own right, actually. Pretty sure you’re not supposed to just…decide to be normal one day. Like, ‘snap, I’m not crazy anymore’? That’s not right.
In fact, you know, I know Lenalee Li, and this is not how she works. Lenalee, she cries herself better pretty much every time. She hasn’t cried at all over this.
That’s it. She’s still crazy; she’s just making it look good. I’m counting her as crazy until I see her cry.
Still and all, she’s doing a decent job of playing sane, and that’s an improvement. Besides, she scared the boys silly, and I’m all in favor of that.
Kanda shook her awake while Allen was handing Bookman breakfast, and, after all those days of nothing, she just opened her eyes and said, “Kanda? Do you think we could go looking for my brother soon?”
Allen dropped all the food. Kanda blinked at her a couple times, then said, “Yeah. As soon as that Lavi guy starts walking around, we can go.” And Bookman actually turned to look at them.
I bit my Allen on the head out of sheer enthusiasm, but I don’t think he appreciated it. He always was ungrateful. Kanda’s right about that.
* * *
You get over things whether you want to or not, right? And it’s like, part of you definitely doesn’t want to, which is weird. I guess that’s survivor guilt or something. You owe it to them not to get over it. Maybe.
Your habits all try to jump up and bite you, too. I keep looking for Cross, you know? I could always tell where he was before, and every once in a while if I’m not thinking about it, I look for him. And he’s not there. Always have this moment of panic, like, how’s he hiding from me and what’s he up to now? Then I remember he’s not up to anything anymore. Not anywhere I can find him, anyway.
Be glad when that passes, honestly.
Kanda was pretty okay all along, I think. Whoever he wanted to find, he still needs to find them. Doesn’t matter how many people die on the way. Allen was okay once he figured out there are still lots of akuma around-him killing the Earl doesn’t mean they all disappeared, just that there won’t be any new ones. Lenalee, she’s telling herself she can find her brother. Who knows, maybe she can. Bookman’s still got his History of Everything According to the Bookmen to write. At least, that’s what he thinks got him up and moving. Me, I notice he started talking not too long after Lenalee started talking.
I don’t make anything of it. I just note it.
After a while, they got to fighting over how they were gonna continue paying for food once they were out of buttons (not knowing what became of the Black Order), and I took it as a good sign. They were thinking long term; that had to be good, right? I wanted to add my bit, of course, but I can only really contribute to a conversation by biting someone, and I try to save that for special occasions.
They came up with a lot of stupid things, I don’t know what all. They wanted something where they could move around a lot, looking for whatever they were looking for-the Order, loved ones, what have you-and they wanted something they could leave at any time, like when they found what they were looking for. They also wanted some cover, just in case something funny was going on with the Order and the Vatican and they had to pretend not to be involved. So they had lots of moving around ideas. Mercenaries was one. Peddlers was another. Wandering teachers; was Bookman who shot that one down, strangely enough. Maybe he knew he’d be doing all the work.
Lots of arguing, lots of things thrown out, lots of insulting the intelligence, so on. And then finally, my Allen, he says, “Well, we could always join the circus.”
* * *
They did join the circus. For serious, for real, they joined the circus. On the one hand, it is about perfect for what they wanted, and they’re all crazy acrobats already. On the other hand, Allen made Kanda join the circus.
It’s good only my Allen has any idea what I’m thinking. And it’s good he has a great poker face. Otherwise there’s no way this would end any other way than everyone being cut into little pieces by Mugen. Heh. Circus Kanda. Circus Kanda. Ahhhh, even better than Kanda, Provider of Food.
This is good for Bookman, too. I think the whole idea of it is causing him to regain his sense of humor, and once he has his sense of humor back, he won’t be nearly as much of a waste of space as he is right now. I’m excited for it. Go, go, Circus Kanda. You’ll save us all yet.
He has some kind of knife-throwing routine; I’m sure it’s very manly. Mhmm.
“I’m not wearing…tights.”
“It’s like a uniform, Kanda.”
“It’s not like a uniform I’m ever going to wear in this lifetime, beansprout.”
“What, you prefer the skirt?”
“You can hide weapons under the skirt. You can’t hide anything under those.”
“You don’t need to be hiding weapons; no one’s going to try to kill you onstage!”
“There could be akuma anywhere.”
“Kanda, if you…you know that if you kill someone during a performance-even if it’s an akuma-that’s not going to help sales. You do know that, right?”
“So I’m just supposed to let it go?”
“Just point it out and let us handle it, okay? I’ll probably see it long before you do, anyway. God, you’re so bloodthirsty.”
“I’m not bloodthirsty, beansprout. Killing things is our job. We’ve had this talk.”
“You never think long-term, you’re an idiot, and my name is Allen.”
If they knew how many people eavesdropped on these conversations, they wouldn’t have to wonder why no one wants to eat lunch with them.
Now, despite Circus Kanda, the circus is not all smiles and roses and regular paychecks, because the circus, in the way of circuses, is broke. I think that’s some kind of circusy rule. Bookstores and charities, they have this same rule. If you’re not broke, it’s only because you’ve got an investor with more money than sense.
* * *
“We don’t need this circus. If it goes under, we can just find another circus. So why the hell are we the ones out…saving it?”
“They let us join up, Kanda. They didn’t have to; we owe them. Don’t be so ungrateful.”
“Don’t be such a bleeding heart.”
“It’s not like I’m putting myself out. I just happen to know someone who might help, that’s all.”
“How would you know a rich guy?”
“I have friends in many places, okay? I realize it might be hard for someone like you to understand.”
“I can’t believe you dragged me into London for this. He won’t remember you and this will be a big waste of my time.”
“Don’t worry, I know exactly how precious your time is. You have to get back to some serious…what is it you do all day? Brooding?”
“We can’t all be grinning idiots, beansprout.”
“My name is-”
“Remind me again why Lenalee couldn’t come. I was kinda hoping there might be someone sane to talk to while you two…whatever.”
“Lenalee has to talk Jack into letting us look for an investor.”
“…Yeah. You do know what Jack’s going to do to us when he realizes that we were looking for an investor while Lenalee was talking him into letting us look for an investor, don’t you?”
“I don’t think we need to bother him with these details about exactly when things happened. Do you?”
“The beansprout is a sociopath.”
“I guess it takes one to know one.”
“Don’t fight, kids.”
“SHUT UP, LAVI.”
Sometimes I really, really wish Cross were still around, just so I could play this stuff back to him. If we ever find Komui, I’ll play it for him, and he’ll definitely appreciate it…but it just won’t be the same. I’m gonna miss that evil cackle.
* * *
Back on that first day in London, everyone went for a look at Order Headquarters. It was a ruin, just like we left it. Looked like no one had touched it in all the time we were gone.
Day after that, no one left the room, and the kids told everyone who came to check on them that they were sick.
* * *
They did finally find that kid’s house. And when I say, “they found it,” I obviously mean, “I took them there.” My Allen, he couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag. One too many hits to the head with a hammer, maybe.
Kid opened the door, and Allen bowed to him. Allen gets like that sometimes.
“Good morning, John,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”
Oh yeah, his name’s John. It has been a long time. He must be, what, 15, 16 by now. He found some dignity somewhere, too, which is good, because it takes a lot of dignity to be able to pull off those weird hat things he still wears, though I see he lost the rolling shoes. Not bad-looking, this kid. All in all, I approve.
So John just stood there staring for a while. Then he said, “Oh my God. Allen?” And Allen smiled his yes-I-am-that-adorable smile, and John tackled him.
Bookman laughed, but Kanda did not like it. Oh, Kanda didn’t like it at all.
I just note it.
Since John had tackled Allen right to the sidewalk, he had to sit up to check out these other people. He chose to sit on Allen and look at Kanda, and I thought he might die from the force of the glare alone. He scrambled to get off Allen. Say what you will, the kid’s not stupid.
“Oh my God, are these other exorcists!?” he asked, helping Allen up and carefully not looking toward Kanda. “Wow, that’s awesome! Wow! Hey, how have you been? What’s going on? Have you been fighting lots of akuma? My dad, you know, he just…I don’t know, he went off for business a couple of months back and he sends letters but they don’t say anything and I really, really want to know how things are going, but, you know, I don’t have anyone to ask and it’s been, gosh, ages since I knew anything new and the whole world could be ending and I-”
“Damn, Earflaps, take a breath.” Bookman looked like not laughing was taking most of his concentration and all of his strength. Knew he’d be more fun once he got his sense of humor back.
“Sorry, sorry!” John flailed; it wasn’t a bit dignified. “It’s just been ages since I saw Allen! He saved my life once! He’s the best! I thought, man, how could this skinny kid save my life? But he did! Isn’t he great? He’s great, huh? Wow, exorcists!”
Bookman should have just given up and laughed. I thought he was gonna sprain something.
“Gosh, are you just visiting? Did you want something? Did you wanna see my dad, cuz he’s away. Are you hungry? I could feed you! Come in! I’ll feed you and you can tell me stuff and it’ll be great!”
“You don’t have to feed us, John, but thanks.” Allen smiled again as John dragged everyone into the…parlor? Sitting room? I’m not wise to the ways of rich people. Allen’s deadly with that smile, though. Heh. “Actually, we did want to ask your father about something. You have no idea when he’ll be back?”
“Oh, no. Probably not for ages, though. He was muttering something about really big explosions, and then he just took off, not a word.”
“Really big explosions, huh?” Bookman tipped a look at Allen. “Wonder what that was all about.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, John,” Allen said, opting to totally ignore Bookman. “I should have introduced you. We’re all exorcists, you were right. This is Kanda, and this is-”
“Bookman,” said the Bookman. And he said it with a hint of the thousand yard stare. I’d wondered when he was going to start calling them on that.
Allen and Kanda studied him for a bit, and then Allen said, real quiet, “Yes. Bookman.” Kanda turned away.
There was a pause, short but extremely awkward, before Allen turned and said, “And this is John. His father’s a scientist for the New World Alliance. We met…just before I joined the Order, actually. He knows a bit about akuma.”
“I met the Millenium Earl once,” John said with big eyes.
“Yeah, well, Walker killed him, so you can stop worrying about it,” said Kanda.
“He-wait-you-what? What!?”
“Um?” My Allen. He says the smartest things.
“Two months. Has it really been two months already?” Bookman wondered out loud, which is always a mistake when you’re in a room with Kanda.
“Of course it’s been two months. Not that you two would know anything about it. You both spent most of the first month staring straight ahead refusing to talk while I had to feed you.”
“What are you babbling about?” Allen demanded indignantly. “I was talking weeks before Lavi was!”
“Then again, the rabbit didn’t try to kill me when I fed him.”
“It’s Bookman, actually,” Bookman reminded them.
“Shut up, Lavi,” they replied.
In the meantime, the kid’s eyes had gone wider than I thought human eyes could go. Kind of a lot to take in, really, what with the apocalypse averted and the guy who did it going ballistic on his friend in your living room. Parlor. Whatever.
“You beat him?” he interrupted finally, possibly just before furniture started getting thrown and swords started getting drawn. “It’s…it’s all over? He’s gone?”
“Yeah, Earflaps,” said Bookman, sounding tired. “It’s over.”
“Not exactly over,” corrected Allen, giving Bookman a disapproving look. “The Millenium Earl is dead, but-”
“You seriously killed the Millenium Earl!?”
“Yes, he died. A lot of people died. And a lot of akuma are still around, and we don’t know what happened to the rest of the Order. We really need the funds to go find that out, and so we wanted to ask your father if he’d invest in a circus.”
John stared at Allen for a while. He lifted his funny hat, scratched his head, put the hat back on, and stared some more. “I don’t get you,” he said reflectively.
* * *
“My dad actually put me and his solicitor in charge of his finances last year,” John explained, leading us up a staircase lined with lots of machines that looked like they might just reach out and crush me for the hell of it. “It’s because he’s gone so often for work. The solicitor-Mr. Bowman-he didn’t like it much at first, working with a kid and all that, but he got used to it okay. He pretty much leaves things up to me now. It’s up to me if I want to invest in something, and we can afford a loss right now. Dad won’t mind if it’s for the Black Order, I know he won’t.”
I checked on my Allen, and his face was glowing with the unholy light of a scam well completed. Bookman was trying not to laugh again, and Kanda was trying really hard not to look like he was impressed in spite of himself. Wish Lenalee had been there. Bet she’d have been looking like this was exactly what she’d expected to happen. She’s great like that. Also she feeds me chocolate. I love that woman.
John sifted through files and mounds of papers all covered in numbers. He flipped through ledgers and pulled down dusty books. He made phone calls. Cross went his whole life without ever once being this organized. Then again, Cross would never in his life have been able to turn to you and say, “We can easily spare £1000. I think that should help-will it be enough?”
Easily spare £1000. Ha ha. Indeed.
Kanda choked, Bookman bit the back of his hand, and Allen smiled his sweetest smile and said, “That should be more than enough. Thank you so much, John. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
John looked so proud, it was touching. Or it would have been touching if you didn’t realize how utterly he’d just been played.
My Allen. Devious, scheming, manipulative; way too many formative years with Cross. Because this is exactly how Cross worked. The man never lied to anyone about it-he walked up and said, “Hey, I’d like to take a lot of your money and use it for purposes of my own, about which I plan to tell you very little.” And everyone responded, “Of course, General Cross. Here. Let me pawn my priceless family heirlooms for you.”
Been watching it for years and I still don’t get how it works. Clearly Allen’s got it, though. Between this and the gambling, Cross trained him to be a little money-making machine.
* * *
“Well? How did it go?”
Lenalee had coffee for the boys, food for my Allen, and chocolate for me. Lenalee is my personal goddess. Even if she is crazy.
“Allen Walker is scary,” Bookman announced. “I was standing right next to him and I still don’t know what happened; I suspect brainwashing.”
“I told you he was a friend,” Allen said stiffly.
“Mm, everyone’s friends hand out thousands of pounds whenever they’re asked politely,” murmured Kanda, still trying his damnedest not to look impressed. “You see it all the time.”
“Just because you-”
“Did you just say…thousands of pounds?” And it’s a good thing she’d put the coffee tray down before she registered that, because she totally would have dropped it otherwise.
“Just one thousand. And he said he’d ask his father if he knows anything about where the rest of the Order is. His father works for the New World Alliance, did I tell you that?”
“No, Allen,” Lenalee said, sounding a little dazed. “You didn’t mention that.”
“Oh. Well. He does.”
“I see. So…this friend of yours invested his father’s money in the circus?”
“Not exactly,” Kanda said, looking vaguely out the window.
“He more…he decided it would be easier if he just donated the money,” Allen explained, waving his hands around as if that would make Lenalee understand that this behavior was normal. “Well, not exactly donated. Lavi’s going to write up the story of what happened in that last battle. For him. So it’s really just like he’s paying a lot of money for the story.”
Bookman collapsed in a chair and started laughing.
“Allen,” Lenalee said in that gentle voice people use on the insane. “You’re telling me that your friend…gave us £1000 and volunteered to draft his father into looking for our colleagues. And in exchange, Lavi is going to tell him a story. Am I missing anything?”
“Think that covers it!” said Bookman with a happy wave to indicate total lunacy.
“Brainwashing people is very wrong, Allen,” Lenalee said sternly. “Do I have to give you the same lecture I gave my brother?”
“I told you I didn’t brainwash him! He’s just a nice guy! Shut up, Lavi!”
But it was a lost cause, because by that time, Kanda was covering his mouth with one hand to hide the smirk, Lenalee was laughing, Bookman was practically on the floor, and I was dive bombing Allen’s head because it’s fun. All the common sense had left the room ages ago.
* * *
“I told you kids I wouldn’t have any damn investors!”
Jack, the guy who nominally runs the circus, is going to bust a blood vessel someday from all the shouting.
“Investors, hah! They get ideas. They think just because they give a guy some money, suddenly they can up and run his circus! Well, I won’t have it! I told that girl, the dancer, I told her I wouldn’t do it and I won’t do it and that’s final!”
He sat back, satisfied. His wife, Anne, the lady who actually runs the circus, nodded confirmation.
Under normal circumstances, that would have been the end of it. Of course, they weren’t normal circumstances. Allen was involved.
“We understand how you feel, sir,” said my Allen, looking sweet and sincere. “But my friend hasn’t expressed any interest in running your circus. He doesn’t actually want to invest, exactly. We explained our situation, with business being what it is, and he felt that…it would be the best thing just to donate some money. He’s a great fan of the circus, you see.”
Jack and Anne were maybe a bit won over by all that talk of your circus, and fans of the circus, and hard times, and money being given away. Not completely won over, but great strides had been made.
Damn, he’s good.
“How much money is your friend thinking to give us?” Jack demanded. “Because if he’s giving us one or two quid to make himself feel better, well, we can just do without!”
“Actually, he was planning on giving us £1000. He hoped that would be enough to help. He’s given me £400 in cash for now-here it is-and he plans to give us the remaining £600 in three installments over the next six months.” Allen smiled.
You’ve got to understand what this looked like from Jack and Anne’s point of view. Everyone had come along to watch this show, so we were all in there, and while the kids are almost capable of passing for respectable if they want to, none of them were really trying at the time except Allen. So the picture was something like this:
Bookman and Kanda leaning against either side of the door looking absolutely feral. Lenalee drifting aimlessly around the room, walking that line between fey and insane. Some unidentified gold ball flying around the place, they don’t know how it works or what it is. Last but not least, there’s Allen, standing right in front of them looking like the most innocent and wholesome of boys-next-door (mind not the scars and white hair), and offering them £1000, allegedly no strings attached, from they-know-not-whom.
“Why should we trust you?” Jack asked suspiciously.
“Because I just handed you £400,” Allen said. Dumb questions make him impatient.
Good thing their desire for money overran their common sense, or they would have kicked us out right then. We were new hires. They had no real reason to trust us, and about a hundred good reasons not to. Then again, it’s pretty hard to look a big chunk of your annual income right in the face, and then kiss it goodbye cuz you don’t like the method of delivery. Would take stronger people than Jack and Anne, for a start.
I could tell Bookman was gonna have another laughing fit the minute we got out of there.
* * *
“Oh, we’re supposed to call Lavi ‘Bookman’ in public now,” Allen mentioned absently, counting up the till at the end of the day. “I meant to tell you before, but all that money stuff came up.”
Lenalee’s hands paused over the rope she was coiling. “He told you that? To call him Bookman?”
“Um, not exactly. I was introducing him to John, and he interrupted me. Before I said his name.”
“Well, that’s…strange.”
“Not really.” Allen looked at her curiously. “He is the Bookman now. They’re not supposed to have a name, are they?”
“They’re not supposed to have friends, either,” Lenalee said, looking kinda tight-lipped and angry. “If he’s really the Bookman, why is he still with us? The war’s over.”
Allen smiled in that way he smiles when a normal person would be screaming or crying or committing suicide. “Maybe the story’s not over until we find the Order,” he suggested. “The record, I guess they call it.”
“Yes, well,” and she was treating that rope with some serious violence, wow, “if he leaves us once we find everyone else, I’m going to be really angry.”
“Oh-kaaay,” Allen said, eyeing her like he’d like to leave, but knew better than to run from a predator. “Maybe you should tell him that. Maybe you should tell him that with that exact look. He wouldn’t dare.”
“Are you telling me my face is scary, Allen Walker?” she demanded, but I noticed she eased up on the rope a little.
“Only when you want it to be, Lenalee Li,” he said, smiling at her. She kinda blushed.
I’m noting it, but at this point I’m also noting that if anyone ever acts on any of this, it’s gonna turn into a whole parade of awkward. Partly because I’m pretty sure there’s no one my Allen would say no to. Because. Formative years with Cross.
Anyway.
They went on with the clean-up-companionable silence, I love it when the kids manage that. But right before they went their separate ways, Lenalee got Allen’s arm in a death grip and gave him a seriously deranged look.
“I’m not losing any of you,” she hissed at him, and he didn’t try to bolt only because he’s very brave. “I’ve lost enough. The war is over, and I’m done losing people who are important to me. Never again, do you understand? Never.”
“Not going anywhere!” Allen promised, sounding a little panicky. “Don’t think Kanda’s going anywhere. Worse come to worst, we can always tie Lavi up.”
“If that’s what it takes,” Lenalee said wrathfully, and she let Allen go and strode off.
“Timcampy?” Allen said very quietly once he was completely sure she was out of earshot. “Let’s not make Lenalee really mad at us, okay? Ever.”
My Allen, you are a very smart guy.
* * *
“Soooo, what’s the trouble?” asked Bookman, giving his best leer, which is pretty good, but not up to Cross standards. “Not that I’m not touched to be…forcibly dragged out for coffee and all, Allen. I just didn’t know we were that kind of close.”
“I’m afraid Kanda’s going to kill an akuma in the middle of a performance,” Allen said, viciously stabbing his food with a fork. “If he does that, we’re all going to be kicked out, and I doubt we’ll be taking John’s money with us.”
Bookman made a brave attempt to look like he was taking this seriously. He’s always doing that. Don’t think anyone buys it. “He could even get arrested,” he pointed out. “That would be…that would be awful.” And not funny at all, Bookman. Serious business.
“Huh?” Allen looked up from the mutilated food, confused. “Oh. No, he wouldn’t get arrested. Or, well, we could get him out pretty quickly.”
“You sure about that? We don’t have the high-up support we used to. Unless you’re thinking you’d smuggle Mugen in to him.”
“Wouldn’t have to,” Allen said between bites, waving his fork dismissively. “I know a London policewoman who understands about exorcists. She’d help us get him out.”
“Allen.”
“Yeah?”
“There anyone in London you don’t know?”
“What do you mean? I hardly know anyone in London.” And the food was gone. Watching Allen eat is like watching a minor miracle.
“How did you meet a London policewoman, Allen?”
“Well, I was coming to join the Order and there was this akuma in a church and a cat ate Tim and her brother was-Look, can we talk about Kanda first?”
“Alright, but you are telling me that story; sounds fascinating. So did you mention to Yuu that he shouldn’t kill akuma in public?”
“He told me it was his job.” Rolling of the eyes.
“Yeah, he would,” Bookman snickered. “Okay. I’ll talk to him. Actually, I’ll have Lenalee talk to him. Come to think of it, why aren’t you having this talk with Lenalee?”
“She’s selling tickets.”
“It’s a trial to be so presentable.”
“Ha, must be. Oh, and, uh. Lenalee’s probably going to want to talk to you. Um. Sometime.”
“Is she? Why?”
“Um, who knows?” Allen laughed nervously. “I was worrying about Kanda, myself, so-agh, he’s impossible! ‘Don’t kill things that look like people in front of an audience.’ Why is that so hard to understand? I swear he does it out of spite.”
Bookman gave him a look that indicated he wasn’t fooling anyone, but all he said was, “Aw, Yuu loves us, really. He’s just shy.”
Allen snorted. “Yeah, he’s shy.” He turned to the window and watched the people walk by outside for a little while; got all serious. “But he does care about us,” he said. “He spent all that time protecting us and getting us food and everything. He didn’t have to do that.”
Bookman started going a little thousand-yard-stare. “I don’t remember it,” he said.
“What kind of Bookman are you, huh?” Allen asked lightly, tracing random patterns in the condensation on the window. “Isn’t remembering everything your job description?”
I really hoped Allen would look at Bookman’s face before he said some other stupid thing that shook up the guy’s whole world.
“You’re right. I’m no Bookman. I lost…a month. I can’t believe I…Panda’d be so disappointed, you know? He’d be disappointed, but I can’t…I’m all there is left. There’s no one to do this job but me, and I, I have no distance, I can’t be objective, I lost a month-”
“Stop that,” Allen snapped, and he twisted to face Bookman. Finally. If he’d done that before, he could have seen this coming and we wouldn’t have had this moment of trauma and breakdown. Jeez, Allen.
“You’re only human,” Allen said. “You lost a couple of weeks in which nothing happened, but you remember the battle, and that’s what counts. I always thought Bookman asked way too much of you and himself and the whole world. There are just things you can’t do, okay? It doesn’t matter how hard you try or how much you want it. Sometimes it’s impossible. That’s what the Earl thought, you know. That he was better than humans and he could control everything and keep his distance and just do and be whatever he wanted. And he was wrong, too.”
“So you’re saying I’m like the Millenium Earl? Thanks a lot.” Bookman’s looking more horrified at Allen than at himself, now. Allen so wins at human interaction as long as he’s paying attention.
“I’m saying the Millenium Earl was so lonely he lost his mind, Lavi. He didn’t even let the Noah close, not really. You can’t live like that. You can’t even watch other people living when you’re like that. It’s a stupid idea.”
“You’re undermining centuries of Bookman tradition, beansprout.”
“Just because you’ve always done it that way doesn’t mean it’s not stupid. And don’t call me beansprout.”
Bookman’s got the crazy recording-for-posterity gleam in his eye now, which is always a good sign. Or a bad sign, if you happen to be the one he’s looking at. He looks at my Allen like that a lot. “So, Allen. The Millenium Earl was lonely, huh? He tell you that?”
Allen fidgeted and turned back to the window. “He didn’t have to tell me. It was…obvious, I guess.”
“Obvious to you.”
“I guess.”
“Hmm.”
“Don’t hmm, I hate it when you hmm.”
“Hmm.”
“Brat.”
“Older than you.”
“Only in years.”
Then they were quiet, but it was an okay quiet. Not that creepy kind of quiet where I feel like I should bite somebody just to shake things up. Comfortable quiet; Allen watching the people go by, Bookman reading the paper. Eventually Bookman looked up and asked, “How do you do that, anyway? How do you keep from blaming yourself?”
Allen shrugged at the window. “I do blame myself. But…Mana said….” He trailed off and started drawing in the condensation again. An arc, loops and lines of various lengths intersecting it. Just like a kid’s secret code, if the kid in question was insane and thought mostly in angles.
“‘Keep moving forward,’” Bookman translated, and Allen smiled at the window and said, “See? You’re a fine Bookman.”
Part 2
Oh, and in the really unlikely event that anyone is still waiting for me to post more Harry Potter fic...I am so, so sorry. This is D.Gray-Man fic. Randomly.
Thank you to my wonderful betas, Zephy and bluecowdied, for being so smart and grammatically correct and, you know, for putting up with me. *loves*
And jayazz has now done a translation in Russian. :D
Moving Forward
“The line separating great showmanship from brazen deception is indistinct.” --Lee Kolozsy
Basically it fell out like this: Cross died.
I guess other people might not think that was the most important thing that happened, what with lots of other people dying and the destruction of the Noah and the way my Allen up and killed the Earl and big explosions or whatever, but for me? Cross died.
He wasn’t ever supposed to die. Allen and I were counting on that, you know? He was too much of a bastard to die. He was a lying, drunken, scheming womanizer, and we both figured God would do pretty much anything to keep him away as long as possible. Seems God’s got a higher tolerance for nasty human beings than we thought. Sort of kills a golem’s sense of purpose, having his boss die.
It’s one thing for Allen. Allen’s got plans of his own. I never had plans; people generally don’t even know I can think. It’s not like Cross was real forthcoming with that kind of information. Any kind of information.
He picked us up like two shiny shells on two different beaches, acted like he didn’t know we were two halves of a whole. Allen and Timcampy, Timcampy and Allen. The Musician. Bastard didn’t even have the decency to find us creepy.
Instead he used us, abused us, and then left us behind. It’s goddamn typical, is what.
* * *
Like I said, big explosions, and a lot of them were Allen’s fault. And since the big explosions were happening on some weird alternate reality plane, the debris from the explosions landed, you know, all over the world. We ended up in some random woods in Wales because we’re lucky like that. No one had a blind clue where everyone else was, and odds seemed pretty good that they’d mostly wound up in the ocean and drowned. The kids didn’t really mention that possibility, but you knew Bookman was thinking it. You could see it lurking there in his crazy catatonic eyes. Eye. Whatever. And my Allen was thinking it too, because my Allen always thinks of the worst thing first. Bless his morbid little heart.
Yeah, so. The kids. They weren’t doing so well. Only reason they were all together was because they’d been huddled like a big human ball when the whole thing blew, and I was there because I’d had a death grip on Allen’s hair. Jaws of doom! It was lucky, I guess. It didn’t look too lucky at first, though, because they were sitting there broken with all their scars showing, and it was freaking depressing. I hung out with Kanda, mostly. He’s always been the worst at hiding what’s wrong with him, so it wasn’t such an awful change, seeing him not even try. Bookman, though. That boy’s got problems I never even thought of before. Cross always said the Bookmen were 15 kinds of wacky, and as much as I don’t like to pick up Cross’s opinions, sometimes the guy had it right. Looks like this was one of those times.
So we had my Allen, Lenalee, Kanda, and Lavi-as-was, who was the Bookman by then; we all saw the old guy die. Get impaled. Yeah, it was pretty nasty. Cross, at least, went with some kind of style. Me and Allen, we’ve got that. Whatever’s left of Cross probably thinks the whole thing is funny as hell, too. I mean, he fought that shapeshifting Noah to a standstill, filled her full of bullets-he always did like killing things that looked like beautiful women, make of that what you will-and then he got run over by an akuma that looked like an elephant, and somehow that managed to kill him. Probably just because he wasn’t paying attention.
You know, it had that kind of surreal class to it. ‘And then he got run over by an elephant.’ I like it. Makes a good story.
Allen hadn’t gotten around to appreciating the humor in it, though. He was just sitting there wishing he was dead. He does this every time, right? He survives against all odds, and then he sits around looking alternately really tired and really pissed off about it. ‘Cut me some slack, here,’ he’s thinking. ‘Haven’t I done enough for you; can’t I rest now?’ It’s some kind of insult that Cross went first. Guess there’s only rest for the wicked.
Lenalee, she was like a puppet with her strings cut, and no wonder. She didn’t know if her brother was alive or not, and even if he was, he could be anywhere. And if he was dead, that was her will to live done and dusted.
Bookman’d gone catatonic, like I say. Think he was thinking that it wouldn’t have turned out the way it did if he’d kept his distance like he was supposed to, so he was making up for it overtime. He was keeping so far away he couldn’t even speak, and yet he was watching everything like a hawk. Creepy.
Then there was Kanda, who by comparison was acting pretty normal. For him. He looked lost and confused and he was holding his chest like he couldn’t believe his heart was still beating, but he didn’t look like he wanted it to stop beating, so that gave him points over my Allen.
Anyway, I was sure they’d be fine eventually. They’d all lost everything before.
* * *
On the second day, Kanda started feeding them. It was, let me say, the most hilarious thing I have ever seen.
First he got up (which was crazy exciting) and found his way to some little town where they either couldn’t speak English or were refusing to on principle, and he haggled for some food. Several silver buttons and one spectacular temper tantrum later, he’d gotten it, and then he went back to share the bounty, right? I thought, this is gonna be good.
Started out easily enough; he went to Bookman and gave him some bread or something, and Bookman took it and ate it. He ate it with an eerie thousand yard stare, but he did eat.
Next he tried Lenalee. She wouldn’t eat on her own, but she would chew and swallow when he actually put stuff in her mouth. It was like watching Kanda feed a grown-up baby. It was disturbing in so many ways.
Ah, and then there was my Allen. You could see that little space of time where Kanda stood there and thought, I could just let him starve; who would know? But Kanda, he’s got inherent goodness. That’s the funniest damn thing about him. He only wishes he hated everyone.
So, help us, he tried to feed Allen too.
Offering food did no good, Allen still being in the “why can’t I die; other people make it look so easy” phase. Then Kanda got this expression of long-suffering and tried to hand feed him, but that doesn’t work so well either if you’re getting no cooperation at all. Then he got a totally evil gleam in the eye and tried force-feeding. And then my Allen tried to kill him.
Hey, it was a response! It was definitely progress. Kanda was maybe not in a position to appreciate that, being all pinned against a tree by the Claw o’ Doom, but it totally was progress! And then Allen collapsed because he obviously hadn’t been eating and definitely didn’t have enough energy to maintain an activated Innocence. He can be dumb in strange ways.
So it was like this: Kanda was slumped against a tree telling Allen all about how he hoped he starved to death and that was absolutely the last time Kanda was ever going to do a damn thing for him, and Allen was slumped against another tree telling Kanda all about how he had never asked for shit from Kanda in the first place and he didn’t want his pity and why was everyone incapable of leaving him alone for five minutes together. And then Kanda kept going with the insults and Allen descended into hissing. Like a cat.
He really is just like a cat. I love cats, I do. I wish they wouldn’t spend so much time trying to eat me, but they’re great with the way they hiss and spit and hate on everything, and then when they want something from you they curl up and purr and act adorable. I can’t decide if I love cats because I love Allen, or if it’s the other way around. Whichever.
In any case, the boys had a long fight in which basically nothing was said. Like so many of their fights. In fact, they have a definite pattern going.
“I can’t believe you’re hissing at me. Is that some kind of Noah communication?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you should have let me starve since I’m practically a Noah.”
“Maybe I should have let you starve because you piss me off.”
“Maybe you should have let me starve because it’s none of your business what I do.”
“I just didn’t want to have to worry about your corpse, suicidal beansprout.”
“My name is Allen.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be grateful when people do things for you?”
“Do things like try to choke me with moldy bread!?”
“That bread is perfect, and it was goddamn hard to come by. Now shut up and eat it before you pass out.”
“I’m not going to pass out!”
“You are going to pass out, and it’s going to be annoying.”
They went on. At length and with hurtful personal comments. But not that hurtful, and that gave me some hope with my Allen. If he was hurting badly enough, then he’d be wanting to hurt back, and when Allen wants to hurt, he can hurt badly. He’s a charmer; he always knows how to say what people want to hear. The flip side to always knowing what people want to hear is knowing exactly what they don’t want to hear. It’s not often Allen uses that, but when he does, damn.
Kanda’s an easy mark, too. Like I said, he doesn’t hide stuff too well, and he’s got his little personal mission to find someone. Someone he’s never actually managed to find. Allen knows that because Allen listens too much, and I know it because people don’t think I can think. I know lots of stuff I wish I didn’t know.
I bet Allen could pretty well lay Kanda open by mentioning the personal mission. Allen knows it, too. He didn’t do it, though.
Hey, maybe he’s not as messed up as I thought. Plus he ate the rest of their food and Kanda drove him off in a rage to get more. They’re practically being themselves.
* * *
It took a lot of days and many disturbing hand feedings (to say nothing of deeply weird guided trips to the toilet), but eventually Lenalee got her head sorted out the way she wanted it, and then she just woke up normal one morning. That was pretty disturbing in its own right, actually. Pretty sure you’re not supposed to just…decide to be normal one day. Like, ‘snap, I’m not crazy anymore’? That’s not right.
In fact, you know, I know Lenalee Li, and this is not how she works. Lenalee, she cries herself better pretty much every time. She hasn’t cried at all over this.
That’s it. She’s still crazy; she’s just making it look good. I’m counting her as crazy until I see her cry.
Still and all, she’s doing a decent job of playing sane, and that’s an improvement. Besides, she scared the boys silly, and I’m all in favor of that.
Kanda shook her awake while Allen was handing Bookman breakfast, and, after all those days of nothing, she just opened her eyes and said, “Kanda? Do you think we could go looking for my brother soon?”
Allen dropped all the food. Kanda blinked at her a couple times, then said, “Yeah. As soon as that Lavi guy starts walking around, we can go.” And Bookman actually turned to look at them.
I bit my Allen on the head out of sheer enthusiasm, but I don’t think he appreciated it. He always was ungrateful. Kanda’s right about that.
* * *
You get over things whether you want to or not, right? And it’s like, part of you definitely doesn’t want to, which is weird. I guess that’s survivor guilt or something. You owe it to them not to get over it. Maybe.
Your habits all try to jump up and bite you, too. I keep looking for Cross, you know? I could always tell where he was before, and every once in a while if I’m not thinking about it, I look for him. And he’s not there. Always have this moment of panic, like, how’s he hiding from me and what’s he up to now? Then I remember he’s not up to anything anymore. Not anywhere I can find him, anyway.
Be glad when that passes, honestly.
Kanda was pretty okay all along, I think. Whoever he wanted to find, he still needs to find them. Doesn’t matter how many people die on the way. Allen was okay once he figured out there are still lots of akuma around-him killing the Earl doesn’t mean they all disappeared, just that there won’t be any new ones. Lenalee, she’s telling herself she can find her brother. Who knows, maybe she can. Bookman’s still got his History of Everything According to the Bookmen to write. At least, that’s what he thinks got him up and moving. Me, I notice he started talking not too long after Lenalee started talking.
I don’t make anything of it. I just note it.
After a while, they got to fighting over how they were gonna continue paying for food once they were out of buttons (not knowing what became of the Black Order), and I took it as a good sign. They were thinking long term; that had to be good, right? I wanted to add my bit, of course, but I can only really contribute to a conversation by biting someone, and I try to save that for special occasions.
They came up with a lot of stupid things, I don’t know what all. They wanted something where they could move around a lot, looking for whatever they were looking for-the Order, loved ones, what have you-and they wanted something they could leave at any time, like when they found what they were looking for. They also wanted some cover, just in case something funny was going on with the Order and the Vatican and they had to pretend not to be involved. So they had lots of moving around ideas. Mercenaries was one. Peddlers was another. Wandering teachers; was Bookman who shot that one down, strangely enough. Maybe he knew he’d be doing all the work.
Lots of arguing, lots of things thrown out, lots of insulting the intelligence, so on. And then finally, my Allen, he says, “Well, we could always join the circus.”
* * *
They did join the circus. For serious, for real, they joined the circus. On the one hand, it is about perfect for what they wanted, and they’re all crazy acrobats already. On the other hand, Allen made Kanda join the circus.
It’s good only my Allen has any idea what I’m thinking. And it’s good he has a great poker face. Otherwise there’s no way this would end any other way than everyone being cut into little pieces by Mugen. Heh. Circus Kanda. Circus Kanda. Ahhhh, even better than Kanda, Provider of Food.
This is good for Bookman, too. I think the whole idea of it is causing him to regain his sense of humor, and once he has his sense of humor back, he won’t be nearly as much of a waste of space as he is right now. I’m excited for it. Go, go, Circus Kanda. You’ll save us all yet.
He has some kind of knife-throwing routine; I’m sure it’s very manly. Mhmm.
“I’m not wearing…tights.”
“It’s like a uniform, Kanda.”
“It’s not like a uniform I’m ever going to wear in this lifetime, beansprout.”
“What, you prefer the skirt?”
“You can hide weapons under the skirt. You can’t hide anything under those.”
“You don’t need to be hiding weapons; no one’s going to try to kill you onstage!”
“There could be akuma anywhere.”
“Kanda, if you…you know that if you kill someone during a performance-even if it’s an akuma-that’s not going to help sales. You do know that, right?”
“So I’m just supposed to let it go?”
“Just point it out and let us handle it, okay? I’ll probably see it long before you do, anyway. God, you’re so bloodthirsty.”
“I’m not bloodthirsty, beansprout. Killing things is our job. We’ve had this talk.”
“You never think long-term, you’re an idiot, and my name is Allen.”
If they knew how many people eavesdropped on these conversations, they wouldn’t have to wonder why no one wants to eat lunch with them.
Now, despite Circus Kanda, the circus is not all smiles and roses and regular paychecks, because the circus, in the way of circuses, is broke. I think that’s some kind of circusy rule. Bookstores and charities, they have this same rule. If you’re not broke, it’s only because you’ve got an investor with more money than sense.
* * *
“We don’t need this circus. If it goes under, we can just find another circus. So why the hell are we the ones out…saving it?”
“They let us join up, Kanda. They didn’t have to; we owe them. Don’t be so ungrateful.”
“Don’t be such a bleeding heart.”
“It’s not like I’m putting myself out. I just happen to know someone who might help, that’s all.”
“How would you know a rich guy?”
“I have friends in many places, okay? I realize it might be hard for someone like you to understand.”
“I can’t believe you dragged me into London for this. He won’t remember you and this will be a big waste of my time.”
“Don’t worry, I know exactly how precious your time is. You have to get back to some serious…what is it you do all day? Brooding?”
“We can’t all be grinning idiots, beansprout.”
“My name is-”
“Remind me again why Lenalee couldn’t come. I was kinda hoping there might be someone sane to talk to while you two…whatever.”
“Lenalee has to talk Jack into letting us look for an investor.”
“…Yeah. You do know what Jack’s going to do to us when he realizes that we were looking for an investor while Lenalee was talking him into letting us look for an investor, don’t you?”
“I don’t think we need to bother him with these details about exactly when things happened. Do you?”
“The beansprout is a sociopath.”
“I guess it takes one to know one.”
“Don’t fight, kids.”
“SHUT UP, LAVI.”
Sometimes I really, really wish Cross were still around, just so I could play this stuff back to him. If we ever find Komui, I’ll play it for him, and he’ll definitely appreciate it…but it just won’t be the same. I’m gonna miss that evil cackle.
* * *
Back on that first day in London, everyone went for a look at Order Headquarters. It was a ruin, just like we left it. Looked like no one had touched it in all the time we were gone.
Day after that, no one left the room, and the kids told everyone who came to check on them that they were sick.
* * *
They did finally find that kid’s house. And when I say, “they found it,” I obviously mean, “I took them there.” My Allen, he couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag. One too many hits to the head with a hammer, maybe.
Kid opened the door, and Allen bowed to him. Allen gets like that sometimes.
“Good morning, John,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”
Oh yeah, his name’s John. It has been a long time. He must be, what, 15, 16 by now. He found some dignity somewhere, too, which is good, because it takes a lot of dignity to be able to pull off those weird hat things he still wears, though I see he lost the rolling shoes. Not bad-looking, this kid. All in all, I approve.
So John just stood there staring for a while. Then he said, “Oh my God. Allen?” And Allen smiled his yes-I-am-that-adorable smile, and John tackled him.
Bookman laughed, but Kanda did not like it. Oh, Kanda didn’t like it at all.
I just note it.
Since John had tackled Allen right to the sidewalk, he had to sit up to check out these other people. He chose to sit on Allen and look at Kanda, and I thought he might die from the force of the glare alone. He scrambled to get off Allen. Say what you will, the kid’s not stupid.
“Oh my God, are these other exorcists!?” he asked, helping Allen up and carefully not looking toward Kanda. “Wow, that’s awesome! Wow! Hey, how have you been? What’s going on? Have you been fighting lots of akuma? My dad, you know, he just…I don’t know, he went off for business a couple of months back and he sends letters but they don’t say anything and I really, really want to know how things are going, but, you know, I don’t have anyone to ask and it’s been, gosh, ages since I knew anything new and the whole world could be ending and I-”
“Damn, Earflaps, take a breath.” Bookman looked like not laughing was taking most of his concentration and all of his strength. Knew he’d be more fun once he got his sense of humor back.
“Sorry, sorry!” John flailed; it wasn’t a bit dignified. “It’s just been ages since I saw Allen! He saved my life once! He’s the best! I thought, man, how could this skinny kid save my life? But he did! Isn’t he great? He’s great, huh? Wow, exorcists!”
Bookman should have just given up and laughed. I thought he was gonna sprain something.
“Gosh, are you just visiting? Did you want something? Did you wanna see my dad, cuz he’s away. Are you hungry? I could feed you! Come in! I’ll feed you and you can tell me stuff and it’ll be great!”
“You don’t have to feed us, John, but thanks.” Allen smiled again as John dragged everyone into the…parlor? Sitting room? I’m not wise to the ways of rich people. Allen’s deadly with that smile, though. Heh. “Actually, we did want to ask your father about something. You have no idea when he’ll be back?”
“Oh, no. Probably not for ages, though. He was muttering something about really big explosions, and then he just took off, not a word.”
“Really big explosions, huh?” Bookman tipped a look at Allen. “Wonder what that was all about.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, John,” Allen said, opting to totally ignore Bookman. “I should have introduced you. We’re all exorcists, you were right. This is Kanda, and this is-”
“Bookman,” said the Bookman. And he said it with a hint of the thousand yard stare. I’d wondered when he was going to start calling them on that.
Allen and Kanda studied him for a bit, and then Allen said, real quiet, “Yes. Bookman.” Kanda turned away.
There was a pause, short but extremely awkward, before Allen turned and said, “And this is John. His father’s a scientist for the New World Alliance. We met…just before I joined the Order, actually. He knows a bit about akuma.”
“I met the Millenium Earl once,” John said with big eyes.
“Yeah, well, Walker killed him, so you can stop worrying about it,” said Kanda.
“He-wait-you-what? What!?”
“Um?” My Allen. He says the smartest things.
“Two months. Has it really been two months already?” Bookman wondered out loud, which is always a mistake when you’re in a room with Kanda.
“Of course it’s been two months. Not that you two would know anything about it. You both spent most of the first month staring straight ahead refusing to talk while I had to feed you.”
“What are you babbling about?” Allen demanded indignantly. “I was talking weeks before Lavi was!”
“Then again, the rabbit didn’t try to kill me when I fed him.”
“It’s Bookman, actually,” Bookman reminded them.
“Shut up, Lavi,” they replied.
In the meantime, the kid’s eyes had gone wider than I thought human eyes could go. Kind of a lot to take in, really, what with the apocalypse averted and the guy who did it going ballistic on his friend in your living room. Parlor. Whatever.
“You beat him?” he interrupted finally, possibly just before furniture started getting thrown and swords started getting drawn. “It’s…it’s all over? He’s gone?”
“Yeah, Earflaps,” said Bookman, sounding tired. “It’s over.”
“Not exactly over,” corrected Allen, giving Bookman a disapproving look. “The Millenium Earl is dead, but-”
“You seriously killed the Millenium Earl!?”
“Yes, he died. A lot of people died. And a lot of akuma are still around, and we don’t know what happened to the rest of the Order. We really need the funds to go find that out, and so we wanted to ask your father if he’d invest in a circus.”
John stared at Allen for a while. He lifted his funny hat, scratched his head, put the hat back on, and stared some more. “I don’t get you,” he said reflectively.
* * *
“My dad actually put me and his solicitor in charge of his finances last year,” John explained, leading us up a staircase lined with lots of machines that looked like they might just reach out and crush me for the hell of it. “It’s because he’s gone so often for work. The solicitor-Mr. Bowman-he didn’t like it much at first, working with a kid and all that, but he got used to it okay. He pretty much leaves things up to me now. It’s up to me if I want to invest in something, and we can afford a loss right now. Dad won’t mind if it’s for the Black Order, I know he won’t.”
I checked on my Allen, and his face was glowing with the unholy light of a scam well completed. Bookman was trying not to laugh again, and Kanda was trying really hard not to look like he was impressed in spite of himself. Wish Lenalee had been there. Bet she’d have been looking like this was exactly what she’d expected to happen. She’s great like that. Also she feeds me chocolate. I love that woman.
John sifted through files and mounds of papers all covered in numbers. He flipped through ledgers and pulled down dusty books. He made phone calls. Cross went his whole life without ever once being this organized. Then again, Cross would never in his life have been able to turn to you and say, “We can easily spare £1000. I think that should help-will it be enough?”
Easily spare £1000. Ha ha. Indeed.
Kanda choked, Bookman bit the back of his hand, and Allen smiled his sweetest smile and said, “That should be more than enough. Thank you so much, John. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
John looked so proud, it was touching. Or it would have been touching if you didn’t realize how utterly he’d just been played.
My Allen. Devious, scheming, manipulative; way too many formative years with Cross. Because this is exactly how Cross worked. The man never lied to anyone about it-he walked up and said, “Hey, I’d like to take a lot of your money and use it for purposes of my own, about which I plan to tell you very little.” And everyone responded, “Of course, General Cross. Here. Let me pawn my priceless family heirlooms for you.”
Been watching it for years and I still don’t get how it works. Clearly Allen’s got it, though. Between this and the gambling, Cross trained him to be a little money-making machine.
* * *
“Well? How did it go?”
Lenalee had coffee for the boys, food for my Allen, and chocolate for me. Lenalee is my personal goddess. Even if she is crazy.
“Allen Walker is scary,” Bookman announced. “I was standing right next to him and I still don’t know what happened; I suspect brainwashing.”
“I told you he was a friend,” Allen said stiffly.
“Mm, everyone’s friends hand out thousands of pounds whenever they’re asked politely,” murmured Kanda, still trying his damnedest not to look impressed. “You see it all the time.”
“Just because you-”
“Did you just say…thousands of pounds?” And it’s a good thing she’d put the coffee tray down before she registered that, because she totally would have dropped it otherwise.
“Just one thousand. And he said he’d ask his father if he knows anything about where the rest of the Order is. His father works for the New World Alliance, did I tell you that?”
“No, Allen,” Lenalee said, sounding a little dazed. “You didn’t mention that.”
“Oh. Well. He does.”
“I see. So…this friend of yours invested his father’s money in the circus?”
“Not exactly,” Kanda said, looking vaguely out the window.
“He more…he decided it would be easier if he just donated the money,” Allen explained, waving his hands around as if that would make Lenalee understand that this behavior was normal. “Well, not exactly donated. Lavi’s going to write up the story of what happened in that last battle. For him. So it’s really just like he’s paying a lot of money for the story.”
Bookman collapsed in a chair and started laughing.
“Allen,” Lenalee said in that gentle voice people use on the insane. “You’re telling me that your friend…gave us £1000 and volunteered to draft his father into looking for our colleagues. And in exchange, Lavi is going to tell him a story. Am I missing anything?”
“Think that covers it!” said Bookman with a happy wave to indicate total lunacy.
“Brainwashing people is very wrong, Allen,” Lenalee said sternly. “Do I have to give you the same lecture I gave my brother?”
“I told you I didn’t brainwash him! He’s just a nice guy! Shut up, Lavi!”
But it was a lost cause, because by that time, Kanda was covering his mouth with one hand to hide the smirk, Lenalee was laughing, Bookman was practically on the floor, and I was dive bombing Allen’s head because it’s fun. All the common sense had left the room ages ago.
* * *
“I told you kids I wouldn’t have any damn investors!”
Jack, the guy who nominally runs the circus, is going to bust a blood vessel someday from all the shouting.
“Investors, hah! They get ideas. They think just because they give a guy some money, suddenly they can up and run his circus! Well, I won’t have it! I told that girl, the dancer, I told her I wouldn’t do it and I won’t do it and that’s final!”
He sat back, satisfied. His wife, Anne, the lady who actually runs the circus, nodded confirmation.
Under normal circumstances, that would have been the end of it. Of course, they weren’t normal circumstances. Allen was involved.
“We understand how you feel, sir,” said my Allen, looking sweet and sincere. “But my friend hasn’t expressed any interest in running your circus. He doesn’t actually want to invest, exactly. We explained our situation, with business being what it is, and he felt that…it would be the best thing just to donate some money. He’s a great fan of the circus, you see.”
Jack and Anne were maybe a bit won over by all that talk of your circus, and fans of the circus, and hard times, and money being given away. Not completely won over, but great strides had been made.
Damn, he’s good.
“How much money is your friend thinking to give us?” Jack demanded. “Because if he’s giving us one or two quid to make himself feel better, well, we can just do without!”
“Actually, he was planning on giving us £1000. He hoped that would be enough to help. He’s given me £400 in cash for now-here it is-and he plans to give us the remaining £600 in three installments over the next six months.” Allen smiled.
You’ve got to understand what this looked like from Jack and Anne’s point of view. Everyone had come along to watch this show, so we were all in there, and while the kids are almost capable of passing for respectable if they want to, none of them were really trying at the time except Allen. So the picture was something like this:
Bookman and Kanda leaning against either side of the door looking absolutely feral. Lenalee drifting aimlessly around the room, walking that line between fey and insane. Some unidentified gold ball flying around the place, they don’t know how it works or what it is. Last but not least, there’s Allen, standing right in front of them looking like the most innocent and wholesome of boys-next-door (mind not the scars and white hair), and offering them £1000, allegedly no strings attached, from they-know-not-whom.
“Why should we trust you?” Jack asked suspiciously.
“Because I just handed you £400,” Allen said. Dumb questions make him impatient.
Good thing their desire for money overran their common sense, or they would have kicked us out right then. We were new hires. They had no real reason to trust us, and about a hundred good reasons not to. Then again, it’s pretty hard to look a big chunk of your annual income right in the face, and then kiss it goodbye cuz you don’t like the method of delivery. Would take stronger people than Jack and Anne, for a start.
I could tell Bookman was gonna have another laughing fit the minute we got out of there.
* * *
“Oh, we’re supposed to call Lavi ‘Bookman’ in public now,” Allen mentioned absently, counting up the till at the end of the day. “I meant to tell you before, but all that money stuff came up.”
Lenalee’s hands paused over the rope she was coiling. “He told you that? To call him Bookman?”
“Um, not exactly. I was introducing him to John, and he interrupted me. Before I said his name.”
“Well, that’s…strange.”
“Not really.” Allen looked at her curiously. “He is the Bookman now. They’re not supposed to have a name, are they?”
“They’re not supposed to have friends, either,” Lenalee said, looking kinda tight-lipped and angry. “If he’s really the Bookman, why is he still with us? The war’s over.”
Allen smiled in that way he smiles when a normal person would be screaming or crying or committing suicide. “Maybe the story’s not over until we find the Order,” he suggested. “The record, I guess they call it.”
“Yes, well,” and she was treating that rope with some serious violence, wow, “if he leaves us once we find everyone else, I’m going to be really angry.”
“Oh-kaaay,” Allen said, eyeing her like he’d like to leave, but knew better than to run from a predator. “Maybe you should tell him that. Maybe you should tell him that with that exact look. He wouldn’t dare.”
“Are you telling me my face is scary, Allen Walker?” she demanded, but I noticed she eased up on the rope a little.
“Only when you want it to be, Lenalee Li,” he said, smiling at her. She kinda blushed.
I’m noting it, but at this point I’m also noting that if anyone ever acts on any of this, it’s gonna turn into a whole parade of awkward. Partly because I’m pretty sure there’s no one my Allen would say no to. Because. Formative years with Cross.
Anyway.
They went on with the clean-up-companionable silence, I love it when the kids manage that. But right before they went their separate ways, Lenalee got Allen’s arm in a death grip and gave him a seriously deranged look.
“I’m not losing any of you,” she hissed at him, and he didn’t try to bolt only because he’s very brave. “I’ve lost enough. The war is over, and I’m done losing people who are important to me. Never again, do you understand? Never.”
“Not going anywhere!” Allen promised, sounding a little panicky. “Don’t think Kanda’s going anywhere. Worse come to worst, we can always tie Lavi up.”
“If that’s what it takes,” Lenalee said wrathfully, and she let Allen go and strode off.
“Timcampy?” Allen said very quietly once he was completely sure she was out of earshot. “Let’s not make Lenalee really mad at us, okay? Ever.”
My Allen, you are a very smart guy.
* * *
“Soooo, what’s the trouble?” asked Bookman, giving his best leer, which is pretty good, but not up to Cross standards. “Not that I’m not touched to be…forcibly dragged out for coffee and all, Allen. I just didn’t know we were that kind of close.”
“I’m afraid Kanda’s going to kill an akuma in the middle of a performance,” Allen said, viciously stabbing his food with a fork. “If he does that, we’re all going to be kicked out, and I doubt we’ll be taking John’s money with us.”
Bookman made a brave attempt to look like he was taking this seriously. He’s always doing that. Don’t think anyone buys it. “He could even get arrested,” he pointed out. “That would be…that would be awful.” And not funny at all, Bookman. Serious business.
“Huh?” Allen looked up from the mutilated food, confused. “Oh. No, he wouldn’t get arrested. Or, well, we could get him out pretty quickly.”
“You sure about that? We don’t have the high-up support we used to. Unless you’re thinking you’d smuggle Mugen in to him.”
“Wouldn’t have to,” Allen said between bites, waving his fork dismissively. “I know a London policewoman who understands about exorcists. She’d help us get him out.”
“Allen.”
“Yeah?”
“There anyone in London you don’t know?”
“What do you mean? I hardly know anyone in London.” And the food was gone. Watching Allen eat is like watching a minor miracle.
“How did you meet a London policewoman, Allen?”
“Well, I was coming to join the Order and there was this akuma in a church and a cat ate Tim and her brother was-Look, can we talk about Kanda first?”
“Alright, but you are telling me that story; sounds fascinating. So did you mention to Yuu that he shouldn’t kill akuma in public?”
“He told me it was his job.” Rolling of the eyes.
“Yeah, he would,” Bookman snickered. “Okay. I’ll talk to him. Actually, I’ll have Lenalee talk to him. Come to think of it, why aren’t you having this talk with Lenalee?”
“She’s selling tickets.”
“It’s a trial to be so presentable.”
“Ha, must be. Oh, and, uh. Lenalee’s probably going to want to talk to you. Um. Sometime.”
“Is she? Why?”
“Um, who knows?” Allen laughed nervously. “I was worrying about Kanda, myself, so-agh, he’s impossible! ‘Don’t kill things that look like people in front of an audience.’ Why is that so hard to understand? I swear he does it out of spite.”
Bookman gave him a look that indicated he wasn’t fooling anyone, but all he said was, “Aw, Yuu loves us, really. He’s just shy.”
Allen snorted. “Yeah, he’s shy.” He turned to the window and watched the people walk by outside for a little while; got all serious. “But he does care about us,” he said. “He spent all that time protecting us and getting us food and everything. He didn’t have to do that.”
Bookman started going a little thousand-yard-stare. “I don’t remember it,” he said.
“What kind of Bookman are you, huh?” Allen asked lightly, tracing random patterns in the condensation on the window. “Isn’t remembering everything your job description?”
I really hoped Allen would look at Bookman’s face before he said some other stupid thing that shook up the guy’s whole world.
“You’re right. I’m no Bookman. I lost…a month. I can’t believe I…Panda’d be so disappointed, you know? He’d be disappointed, but I can’t…I’m all there is left. There’s no one to do this job but me, and I, I have no distance, I can’t be objective, I lost a month-”
“Stop that,” Allen snapped, and he twisted to face Bookman. Finally. If he’d done that before, he could have seen this coming and we wouldn’t have had this moment of trauma and breakdown. Jeez, Allen.
“You’re only human,” Allen said. “You lost a couple of weeks in which nothing happened, but you remember the battle, and that’s what counts. I always thought Bookman asked way too much of you and himself and the whole world. There are just things you can’t do, okay? It doesn’t matter how hard you try or how much you want it. Sometimes it’s impossible. That’s what the Earl thought, you know. That he was better than humans and he could control everything and keep his distance and just do and be whatever he wanted. And he was wrong, too.”
“So you’re saying I’m like the Millenium Earl? Thanks a lot.” Bookman’s looking more horrified at Allen than at himself, now. Allen so wins at human interaction as long as he’s paying attention.
“I’m saying the Millenium Earl was so lonely he lost his mind, Lavi. He didn’t even let the Noah close, not really. You can’t live like that. You can’t even watch other people living when you’re like that. It’s a stupid idea.”
“You’re undermining centuries of Bookman tradition, beansprout.”
“Just because you’ve always done it that way doesn’t mean it’s not stupid. And don’t call me beansprout.”
Bookman’s got the crazy recording-for-posterity gleam in his eye now, which is always a good sign. Or a bad sign, if you happen to be the one he’s looking at. He looks at my Allen like that a lot. “So, Allen. The Millenium Earl was lonely, huh? He tell you that?”
Allen fidgeted and turned back to the window. “He didn’t have to tell me. It was…obvious, I guess.”
“Obvious to you.”
“I guess.”
“Hmm.”
“Don’t hmm, I hate it when you hmm.”
“Hmm.”
“Brat.”
“Older than you.”
“Only in years.”
Then they were quiet, but it was an okay quiet. Not that creepy kind of quiet where I feel like I should bite somebody just to shake things up. Comfortable quiet; Allen watching the people go by, Bookman reading the paper. Eventually Bookman looked up and asked, “How do you do that, anyway? How do you keep from blaming yourself?”
Allen shrugged at the window. “I do blame myself. But…Mana said….” He trailed off and started drawing in the condensation again. An arc, loops and lines of various lengths intersecting it. Just like a kid’s secret code, if the kid in question was insane and thought mostly in angles.
“‘Keep moving forward,’” Bookman translated, and Allen smiled at the window and said, “See? You’re a fine Bookman.”
Part 2