Characters: Allen/Lenalee

Warnings: Sex/masturbation. Not sure what other warnings I ought to put in. Maybe angst because this is a sad pairing.

Gone

Time is not on the side of the Black Order. More time, more chances, more moments. Their clock ticks, and with each generation, ticks faster. They're an organization, somehow holding on and not dying out. Certainly there's the backing of the Church, except it's mostly funding. You can't artificially create exorcists. They've tried, so hard, but it backfires again and again. Human cannot force the hand of God, nor Innocence itself.

Sometimes, you get a trump card. Generals were those with more than 100% synchro rate, but some exceeded that by far. Think 200%, or more. At some point you're so well-synchroed they begin to worry. Especially if you're a free thinker. Organizations like good little soldiers that do as they're told, and the more powerful the better.

The challengers? It doesn't matter how powerful they are, if they're held in suspicion, all they need is one reason to lock them up.

One reason.

And Allen Walker crossed too many lines.

They never made him a general. He couldn't be one, not with his…status. And now this newest incident made sure of it.

They're unhappy because he was the trump card, but he couldn't be obedient, and they couldn't use him. Not even with someone watching his moves.

But it's because they didn't understand him. Did anyone? Someone as crazy as he is, with thoughts like his?

It's the humblest of people that do.

And the sad thing is, they're powerless to do anything.

_-|||:|||-_

Lenalee is frustrated.

She has just one request.

And they don't seem to want to listen.

People are too tense. Rumors fly, people whisper, she worries. Kanda is missing, so are Bookman and Lavi; Chaoji is sick, and Allen…

She endures this for a week before she makes up her mind.

Her heels tap harshly against cold ground and echo off colder walls. She carries an angry aura, face set and mouth in a tight line. It's the "don't mess with me" look that most people are familiar with.

Lvellie she refuses to deal with.

But Link…she can. She catches him just as he rounds a corner, and almost steps on his toe.

"I want to see him."

"You cannot."

"I'm not planning to break him out."

"Orders are ord—"

"Two hours alone with him. I'm not even asking much. I heard he's not eating so I just want to make sure he is." She clasps her hands in front of her.

"…No." Link does not budge.

"This isn't fair."

"To you?"

"To Allen." Anger flashes through her; she jabs a finger into his chest. "If you don't, I'll…knock out the guards when you aren't here and borrow a key."

"As if."

"You can't do much against me." She's stolen his bed once, hah. And Link had to sit outside, forced to wait.

He opens his mouth, and then shuts it to form a frown.

"I want answers, but I know I won't be getting them anytime soon. All I want is time with him." The word please sits in her mouth. She is saving it. She is also saving the tears.

The inspector looks uncomfortable. He messes with his bangs, and ends up glaring at her. "One hour!"

"Okay."

"And don't you dare sneak him out, Miss Lee."

"Do I look like I know how to remove seals?" she snaps.

The door is unlocked, and the guards leave with Howard Link. She doesn't spare them a backwards glance before she's rushing in.

There's Timcanpy, tied down and…the wrong size. And there's Allen in the corner—

Her throat closes as she hurries over and kneels next to him. "Allen?"

He wakes with a start. "Lenalee?"

She finds his free hand and grips it, not trusting her voice just yet. Like nearly every one else, he's bruised and battered, but he seems worse.

Note to self: punch Kanda the next time you see him for stabbing Allen.

"How have you been?" Allen sits up a little straighter, blowing his messy bangs out of his face.

"I'm…I'm doing better than you." She lets go of hand; her fingers brush over the bandages on him. "At least they patched you up before putting you here."

"A week or so, and I'll be better."

"Really?"

"…maybe longer." Reluctantly. He scratches his cheek apologetically. "How is everyone else?"

"Managing. We're all worried."

"How did you get in?"

"I convinced Link to let me in. Besides," she lifts a shoulder. "He can't really stop me."

"S-so it seems." Allen laughs softly. "Lenalee, you're scary when you want to be."

"Oh, please." She nudges his shoulder. "You do that, too."

"It's a different sort of scary. That's why I'm locked up here."

"Don't talk like that!" It bursts out of her, and she has to remember to lower her voice. "Please, don't."

"…Lenalee?"

"This isn't fair." She shakes her head. "Whatever you did, you thought it was the right choice. Since when did you intentionally go against the Order? You fight against Noah and Akuma. You followed orders, and then some. You—"

"I messed up, and caused people pain."

"And Kanda?"

"Well, he did thank me and call me by my actual name." He snorts. "That idiot. I did one thing right…by my own standards."

"And the Order's standards aren't yours?"

He tilts his head; in the dim light, odd shadows cast over his face. Masking him still more. "I thought we could work together. I thought—this is home."

"It is."

"Not now. Maybe someday."

"Don't talk like that, Allen."

"Then how should I talk?"

"Do I look like I have the answers?" Lenalee, her legs going numb from her position, shifts to sit next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

"Humans are like that. We ask too many questions, and get only half the answers we want. And sometime we spend our lives looking for just one answer."

"Mhm. I wonder when things are going to be normal."

"They may not be, for a long time."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for anything, Allen." Her voice cracks. This is still awful, him locked up in this dank room and so is Tim, and they're being judged and everything just looks so down—

Oh, she's crying again, isn't she. Lenalee reaches up to brush them away, but Allen beats her to it. He wipes it away with a thumb.

"Now I really have to say sorry. For making you cry." His hand is a little cold, but there is warmth in his touch. "I'm a cursed human."

"I think I like cursed people. Aren't we all cursed?"

"Are you calling Innocence a curse?"

"Sort of. We'll die as Exorcists, most likely."

"I was born one, and I'll be one as long as I live and fight."

"If only people in Central understood that."

"Well…" Allen brushes another tear from her eye. "I thought they did. I just…wanted…" he falls silent. "Well, never mind what I wanted."

Lenalee rest her head on his shoulder. Probably fifteen minutes have gone by since she stepped in. Maybe more. She crosses her ankles and shivers.

"Cold?"

"Aren't you?" Her tears cleared up, slightly.

"I've been in worse conditions." But there are goosebumps on his arm, and his frame trembles ever so slightly. She curls her arm around his, and his shivering lessons some.

"…Lenalee?"

"I don't mean to be rude, but…I smell food."

"Oh!" She's forgotten the bag she brought with her. "I did, sorry."

"It's all right."

"Here." She pulls out a thermos, three pastries, two apples, and four meat buns. "It doesn't add up to what you usually eat, but—"

"No, it's fine." In seconds, he's finished the buns, apple, and bread, but he stops at the thermos. "Ah, I'm not sure…"

She unscrews it and holds it out to his lips. As he sips, he places his hand over hers.

"This is really good."

"They didn't feed you?"

"They did, but I didn't eat. Central could be tampering with my food."

"Oh. This is directly from Jerry."

"Did you ask him?"

"Mm-hm. He was really happy about it. And—I nearly forgot." Lenalee pulls out her last little container. "Dessert."

The way his eyes light up makes her smile. Five sticks of mitarashi dango. There's definitely more color to his face.

"Lenalee, this is great. I thought I was going to have to ask Link to convince someone…"

"I wish I could do more."

"No, this is plenty."

"I could…break you out."

"And then what?"

She shakes her head. "Something."

"They'd send Crows after us."

"A couple pesky birds can't stop you, can they?"

Allen grimaces. "Link can." He lifts his bound arm. "And this. I can't get rid of this on my own."

"We could take one hostage."

"Where would we go?"

A frustrated sigh. "Yeah, it's…not going to work, is it."

"Maybe if I weren't injured and if I could free Tim, there'd be a possibility."

She feels the urge to kick the wall, or punch it. Punch a couple of guards and a certain inspector. Release her Innocence again, and let them feel her rage and determination. It pulses in her; her Innocence hums in response.

A touch on her arm brings her back. Allen is peering concernedly at her.

"I'm upset at a lot of things," she admits. "And I'm afraid I'm not being honest with myself. I can't deny that I really want to break you out of here, go somewhere, and just fight on our own."

He takes her hand and squeezes it, their foreheads bumping against each other. "Someday."

"Someday."

Thirty minutes. Maybe less. Her heart hurts. But she doesn't want to spend the rest of their time in tears.

"Allen."

"Yes?"

"Don't judge me for what I'm about to do." She swallows her uncertainty. "And I hope…whatever happens, this doesn't change things between us."

He looks curious, but not uneasy.

She slips her hand against his cheek, and kisses him. Lightly, gently, like a brush of butterfly. So fleeting that it was more like a brush of lips then a kiss. Her face fees like it's burning when she moves away.

"I know it's not the time or place, or even if you wanted me to or not. But I wanted you to know."

She cares about him.

She longs for him to all right.

But they're soldiers and Exorcists and they shouldn't even have time for things like this. Stupid thoughts that run through her mind, and then she makes these decisions.

Except, Allen tucks his hand against his neck, and brings her in for a kiss of his own. Unlike hers, his mouth seals against her mouth, and he breathes against her. He's quite careful, but it isn't cautious at all.

When he pulls away, her heart is hammering and she sees that his face is also flushed.

"I'll only regret if you do," he says. "How much time do we have?"

"N-not much." She licks her lower lip, nervousness shooting through her. "But. Maybe just enough."

"We'll make the best of it." And he kisses her again.

This time, she returns it, letting him know her desires and needs and wishes. Her pulse is now in her ears; the way he slides his hand to her back sets her skin aflame. She embraces him, trying her best not to jostle his wounds. Before she knows it, she is pretty much in his lap, straddling him on this cold ground.

She's brought back to reality when she feels something firm underneath his clothes pressing against her, something that wasn't bone. The way he breathes matches her. She shifts, and he inhales sharply.

"Lenalee," he says, breathless and shaky. "Do you…want to stop?"

"No, I want to continue." She leans against him, her breasts pressed up against him. She knows enough to understand bodies and how they react.

Allen's response is to kiss her again, and in the wake of it, he slips his hand underneath her shirt. She arches into it, a gasp escaping her lips as fingers, no longer cold or shaking, touch her skin directly. It's rare to feel Allen without his gloves. He's always been like that, always keeping something between them. Now there's just them. His hand caresses, kneads, and she fumbles open her coat so that she can push up her shirt underneath. Time isn't on their side so they can't take much off, but he can do this.

And so can she. His clothes are more annoying than her. Fabric bunches between them, but she tugs at his belt until it falls away and the tunic hangs more loosely and lets her put her own hands on his skin. She traces bandages and scars, and touches him the way he touches her, the two of them exploring, lingering, even during a time like this.

But not for too long. Both of them are suddenly trembling, gasping, and kisses grow too heavy. His hand holds her chin, and searches her eyes before it lets go and travels between her legs.

Lenalee whispers his name as he strokes, and it gives her the nerve to dip her own hand into his pants. They pause only to adjust clothing, and then it is skin-against-skin contact that drives the flames higher. She presses against the warmth of his hand, his fingers going at a steady pace. She grips his cock and pumps it at the same pace. His chin is on her shoulder while her head is pressed against his collarbone. They roll and thrust against each other, and breath the same air.

"Allen, Allen, Allen," she says, over and over. His name is a prayer, a desire. And he responds with kisses to her skin and stroking faster until she stiffens, and then lets out a small cry as a inexplicable feeling bursts through her. Allen follows suit, hoarsely saying her name and drawing it out.

She hugs him with one hand, and then kisses him again. His bangs cling to his face, and she suddenly thinks he has the most beautiful eyes she's ever seen…

"Allen, I…" Tears fill her eyes.

"No regrets, yeah?"

"None whatsoever." She closes her eyes and leans into his warmth.

It doesn't mean it hurts any less. Hurt and regret were two different things. She breathes him in, and even as she does, she hears footsteps. They hurriedly rearrange their clothes and then they kiss, one last time. Her hands wrinkle his tunic, and she memorizes his face. She doesn't want to let go.

"What?"

"It's going to be a while before I see you again, won't it."

"I'll always come back. Of my own free will, Lenalee."

The door squeaks open, and suddenly it feels as if she is flung far away from him. Before everything fades, she hears his final words.

I love you...

_-|||:|||-_

She sits up wildly in bed and her shoulders shudder. Confusion makes her head spin and she grips the front of her nightshirt as she gasps.

"A…Allen," But there is no one there.

It's a dream.

Just a dream.

But…but it felt so real. She shifts and feels damp. There's still an aching heaviness there. Lenalee touches her lip, and finds blood. Did she bite them in her sleep?

And then it hits her. He said goodbye, yesterday. She'd only managed to catch up to him, just before he left.

He'd hugged her. And then cupped her face, said that he loved her and everyone in the Order, and then…gone.

Her pillow is flung away, and she buries herself in the blankets. She curls up on her side, and, without really thinking much about it, presses fingers against her groin. It's lustful and probably shameful. But she doesn't care. Distressful love is what this is. Tears gather in her eyes as she strokes, erratically and carelessly. It really did seem like they kissed, like they made love. But even as she spends herself and moans his name, it is only her who is in the room, touching herself. Just her.

Because he's gone.

And all that is left is the regret that she's more honest with herself in her dreams, more so than she is when awake.

It's probably what hurts her the most.

Author's Note: This hurt my heart to write. The tragic pairing of this series is most definitely Allen/Lenalee.