Catch 22 Chapter 4: Coming Home, a d.gray-man fanfic

Catch-22

Why look, a small sliver of something resembling plot. XD; From here on out we're going to begin to move from fluff into seriousness at a pretty good clip, so be warned. I look forward to posting the next chapter…

Ch. 4. Coming Home

Before they knew it, an entire month had passed by on them, and things were working out better than Komui would ever have dared hope. Reever was a little concerned about what it would look like to be fraternizing with his boss, so they decided to keep things discreet; Komui, naturally, told Linali, and from the knowing, pleased looks Jerry gave the both of them it was clear that he too was in the loop, but so far as they knew, they'd elsewise managed to keep their new...thingunder wraps. Sadly, Komui still hadn't managed to figure out the proper technique for using said thing as leverage to skip work, but it certainly made the day-to-day drudgery of the Order more pleasant -- a stolen kiss or two when Reever delivered the day's share of documents to his Supervisor's office (Komui strictly demanded them as an apology for being the bearer of bad news, or in this case, bad paperwork); evenings spent in one or the other's room attempting to read reports or draw up plans or occasionally just snuggle (Komui had kept pestering the other man with requests to see Reever's room, and when finally allowed, took one look before heading off to find a feather duster); and, of course, sharing their bodies with each other. Neither of them had a great deal of experience with sexuality and, while Komui might at least have been acutely aware of where everything went -- it was like riding a bicycle; you never reallyforgot how to do it -- he felt an exhilarating sense of wonder and curiosity about exploring it with somebody he actually liked, learning and discovering together. All in all, he felt that for a beginning relationship in a place like the Order, it could hardly have been more idyllic.

Of course, things got a little hectic toward the end of that month, as one of their dispatched Finder squads managed to stumble across a phenomenon that couldn't be explained by anything less than Innocence. It was a town that appeared to rewind, reliving the same day over and over without its inhabitants being aware of it at all. It was extremely promising and everyone was optimistic.

There was only one catch.

No one could get in.

The Finders would try to walk in through the front entrance and find themselves walking right back out again, and Reever found himself locked up in Komui's office along with the rest of their research team and every single book that even remotely seemed to be relevant to the subject at hand, plowing through it all trying to make sense of things. Days went by where the only sleep any of them got was when they dozed off wherever the piles of books they happened to be studying were, until another pile of books became off balance and landed on them. It was perhaps day four or so of this when Johnny finally collapsed, his last words stumbling out of his mouth as he fell over on his pile of research notes.

"Let's just send more Innocence after the Innocence and go to sleep... Mommy, no school today..."

The rest of them exchanged a shared look of disbelief. It was such an obviously sleep-deprived, offhanded thing to say. It didn't have anything to do with any of the research they had done. They had nothing to support the claim and no way to test the theory.

Reever was digging up the list of off-duty Exorcists anyway.

It turned out that Linali and Allen were the only Exorcists not currently on a mission, which made both Reever and Komui exceptionally nervous. Because this was the mission that had kept them out of their beds for the better part of the week, because Allen was a rookie, because they were being sent very far away to investigate something none of them understood. But what choice did they have? And everyone was too exhausted to think of a legitimate reason not to send them.

Linali and Allen fell out of contact as soon as they entered the Rewinding Town, as expected, and so they all tried not to worry too much. For the most part, they just tried to get the mess in Komui's office under control again, get some sleep, replenish lost nutrients, and actually spend some time in the shower. Reever curled up in his bathtub for most of an afternoon trying to get his muscles to forgive him. He had to hunt down Komui after that to drag him to dinner.

And just as things were beginning to get back to normal even a little bit, the phone call came.

Komui was off tinkering in his lab and Reever was letting him because the Supervisor had a lot of stress to vent and needed the time off. Johnny was still rather incapacitated. Tapp was off shelving things with 65. That left Reever to take the call, which came just as he was about to go brush his hair and shave.

"Hello?" he groaned into the receiver, letting out a resigned sigh at the fact that God apparently had a problem with him being clean-shaven.

"This is Finder Tegan Walters, stationed with Exorcists Allen Walker and Linali Li."

Reever was all at once more awake and straightened, gripping the phone a little tighter.

"Yeah?"

"I have an update on the status of the mission. The Innocence has been found and secured, as well as the person it reacted to. Both are on their way to the Order."

"Good to hear. And, uh, Allen and Linali?"

"Both were critically wounded. Miranda -- the one who the Innocence reacted to -- claims that they fought a human girl. I'm calling to request medical backup."

Reever's grip tightened further.

"C-critically wounded? How bad? What happened? Are they stable?"

"Both are stable and in no immediate danger but..."

"What is it?" This was hissed out rather threateningly, though Reever hadn't meant to. It was just hard to hold back.

"Miss Linali hasn't responded to any sort of stimulus since she was found. They're both in a local hospital. The doctor here suspects some sort of brain trauma. And... Sir Walker's Anti-Akuma weapon was badly damaged."

"We're sending backup. Stay with them until then," Reever ordered shortly, then hung up. He turned to stare at the empty office, drawing in a deep breath. He had a lot to do, and he was going to have to be the calm one because he knew it would be unfair to ask that of Komui.

On his way out, he stopped Tapp and told him to organize a medical team.

"Get Bookman if you can. I don't care who you have to call, sleep with, or blackmail. Find him. Okay? I have to go break the news to Komui."

Tapp gave him a look of bewilderment but nodded, promising he would do his best.

By then Reever was already gone.

He found Komui in the same place he'd left him earlier that day -- holed up in one of the labs humming to himself and filling all the blackboards that lined the walls with obscure equations, scattered notes in Chinese, and diagrammed sketches that looked like they were either very fat Exorcists, very fat Exorcist uniforms, or vaguely Exorcist-shaped robots. "Reever?" he inquired automatically as he heard the door opening, turning around brandishing a piece of chalk and wearing a quizzical expression; one look at Reever's face and his own closed off visibly, lips pressing together into a line as the Supervisor replaced the scientist.

"What's the news?" he asked quietly.

Reever's mouth opened as though to deliver said news but he hesitated and then closed it again, shaking his head. It would probably take Tapp a while to get a hold of Bookman, so Reever didn't feel the need to rush through this.

"Just... come here, will you, Komui?" he asked in a soft, tired sort of voice.

Komui's eyes narrowed slightly, and he pursed his lips and felt dread tease bile into his throat as a thousand horrific possibilities crowded into his mind all at once. Some perhaps more urgent than others.

He set down his chalk and wiped his hand on his white pants as he walked over toward Reever, almost hesitantly. A part of him really wished he didn't have to know.

"Reever... what's...?"

"Shh," Reever hushed, pressing his finger over Komui's lips, and then he replaced his hand with a kiss. He took Komui by the shoulders and backed him against the nearest wall. Komui's arms curled around him as he drew out the kiss, briefly broke it to start another, and another, and another. He ran one of his hands through Komui's hair, the other resting on his side. Because it felt like it was something he had to do. Right now, they were just overworked scientists, tired and stressed and doing their best to cope. Right now this was enough to get them through it. In a minute, all that was going to change. In a minute, Reever was going to have to tell Komui his sister was in a coma, that she had come face to face with a Noah and barely escaped with her life. That they had been standing here, possibly enjoying a quick lunch when this had happened. In a minute, this sort of thing wouldn't be able to offer Komui any measure of comfort. In a minute, Reever would be as helpless and useless to Komui as Komui was when it came to saving Linali. So right now, this was something that he had to do.

He continued the gentle, slightly scratchy kisses until he was flushed and breathless and ready to break down all on his own, until the minute had passed where he could do nothing and square it with himself. Then he gripped Komui's coat with both hands and pressed his forehead to the Supervisor's chest, trying to catch his breath.

"Tegan called," he whispered, closing his eyes. "The Innocence is fine. We have a new Exorcist on the way. Linali and Allen are alive and stable at the hospital, but..." He slowly let go of Komui and straightened, stepping back.

"Come on, Komui. Tapp's finding Bookman for us. I'm going to help you pack."

Reever rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He didn't want to be doing this. It was dangerous out there. It was dangerous and Exorcists attracted Akuma as much as raw Innocence did. It was dangerous out there and Linali couldn't help Komui in her state. People died every day, but Reever was a selfish man and he admitted it to himself. He'd offer up anyone else in the Order before Komui. But this time there was no one who could go in Komui's place.

"Everything's going to be okay," he murmured, as much to himself as to Komui.

"Reever."

Komui just stared at him, face expressionless, for a long moment, standing there with hands at his sides. His voice was quiet, equally blank.

"What happened to her?"

Reever pressed his hand against the side of his head at Komui's words, at the look he was being given. Being stupidly, hopelessly helpless was practically a job requirement for them, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. And the way Komui shut himself off, shut himself off and everyone else out, it was all just so...

"I don't know," Reever sighed. He wanted to look away because Komui's complete lack of reaction scared him more than any other kind of response could. The utter lack of a response -- what could anyone offer in the face of that? But he didn't, because that would make it all feel more grim. He never wanted to deliver news to Komui that was bad enough to render him unable to meet Komui's gaze.

"No one knows. She's--" he paused then, because he didn't quite know how to make the words come out right but then he realized there was no way to make the words sound right. He sighed and thoughtlessly toyed with one of the bracelets he wore around his wrists.

"She's in a coma." The words came calmer now, not quite emotionless but far more softly and matter-of-fact. Really, Reever should have finished studying to become a doctor. Or a mortician. That would have been fun. "It's reported that she and Allen fought a human rather than an Akuma. She's been unresponsive since admitted to the local hospital, but she's in stable condition. Allen's Anti-Akuma weapon was badly damaged, but that's hardly news around here anymore. Bookman is being called. I'll be writing a dispatch notice to send a team of three out to Allen and Linali as medical backup."

Komui's gaze drifted down toward the floor, and he hugged his arms over his chest and took a very deep breath.

"...o-- okay. Coma. That's… fixable. We can deal with that," he murmured, pursing his lips again. When next he looked up at Reever, his gaze was shrewd.

"They're sure the opponent was a human...?"

"Yeah, a girl," Reever confirmed with a short nod. "Tegan wasn't very specific, but he probably didn't know much. Allen and Linali should be able to explain more when they're back on their feet." He glanced briefly at the door, sighing.

"We should pack any research materials that involve or mention the Noah family, as well as medical records, history books, your medical equipment... snacks for the trip. Rabi."

Komui nodded absently as he started toward the door, eyes on the ground and mind working fast. "Guess it's just as well we were going to see Bookman anyway," he murmured, tapping his chin. "Didn't Rabi leave with him last time? If he were still in the castle it would be a lot easier to get in touch..."

He sighed and reached out for the handle.

"Guess we'd better get a move on. I'll go grab some clothes and things, can you head to my office...?"

"Yeah. I'll give Jerry a heads up on the way."

- - -

For the next few days Reever found himself with twice the workload as usual, three to four times the stress, and half of the sleep he usually operated on. He tried his best not to think about Komui too much or worry too much, but those things seemed to go hand in hand and every time he picked up some of Komui's work, he thought of Komui which cued the worry and... really, there was no avoiding any of it. If Reever hadn't apparently been lacking the testosterone to grow anything more than frizzy stubble, he probably would have had a beard long enough to stroke contemplatively by the time Komui actually came back.

And just when it seemed as though things couldn't possibly get any worse, they did. Reever should have seen it coming. This was the Order, after all.

But truth was, no one saw it coming. Not even the Head Generals. Not even Hevlaska. Not any of the Exorcists. Least of all Reever.

General Yeager was dead. Driven to the point of insanity, actually. Then died of his injuries. All the while singing the same little tune, a song that was burned into Reever's mind and hummed itself to him whenever it got too quiet.

The Millenium Earl is searching. For the precious Heart, he's searching. It was wrong to choose me… next who will it be?

It was unsettling. It was more than unsettling. Generals didn't die. They were rare and powerful and had mathematically impossible synchronization rates with their Innocence. They just didn't die.

But General Kevin Yeager was gone and they were down to four. General Froi Theodore. General Cloud Nine. General Winters Sokaro. General Cross Marian. The Head Generals wanted Exorcist teams pulled from all current missions and sent out to bring the Generals back. Reever found himself charged with making lists in Komui's absence, tracing who exactly had trained under who.

Apprentices of Froi Theodore were Deisha Barry, Noise Marie, and Yuu Kanda. The dispatch notice was written, dated, and sealed in an envelope. Reever didn't have the clearance to sign them; they would have to be mailed to Komui.

Apprentices of Cloud Nine were Gwen Frere, Sol Galen, and Tina Spark. Dispatch notice written, dated, sealed.

Apprentices of Winters Sokaro were Suman Dark, Chakar Rabon, and Kazana Reed. Written, dated, sealed.

Apprentices of Cross Marian--

There was only Allen.

Knowing Komui's slight (and rather strange and unexplained) obsession with that particular General, Reever figured he would let the Supervisor write up his own team for retrieving Cross. Sending Allen alone really wouldn't do considering the trouble the boy tended to cause/get himself into/spawn, and if they were going to send people at random with him they might as well give Komui the peace of mind of hand-picking who else to send.

Once all that was done, all that was left to do was... call Komui. Funny. Reever had been keeping himself up at night agonizing over how the man was doing, skipping meals, implementing the Dewey Decimal System into their library to keep himself busy... and yet when faced with actually calling Komui to find out how everything was, he had a hard time even picking up the phone. Was he afraid of getting bad news?

Probably. Nine times out of ten, picking up the phone meant bad news. In fact, Reever had some bad news to give himself. Probability suggested that Komui most likely had bad news as well. And so Reever paced in front of the phone, pretended to have lost the number, found the paper he'd written it on--

It was only when Johnny offered to call the Supervisor himself that Reever brushed him aside and picked up the phone, dialing the number with a slightly unsteady hand. He leaned his head against the nearest bookshelf, humming nervously to himself as the phone rang.

It was wrong to choose me…

...he really wanted to hear Komui's voice.

Five or six rings later, there was finally a click on the other line and a familiar sleepy timbre met his ears. "Komui," the Supervisor identified himself with a yawn, sounding tired but not too much the worse for wear. "Who's this? What's up?"

"Komui," Reever repeated, sounding a little bit giddy with relief. "You sound... well, you sound awful. But that's good. You sound just as awful as ever. How has everything been? How's everyone?" He didn't quite want to get into the bad news just yet. It had been too long since the last time he'd gotten to talk to Komui. He wanted to have that for just a little longer.

"Reever?" Komui's grin was audible. "Gee, thanks... Uh, we're holding down the fort over here. Allen's out of it and Linali -- hasn't woken up yet, but they should both be fine. Bookman had a look at them." His air of cheerfulness as he said the words was either genuine or very well-faked. "And, y'know, working. I've got a few thoughts about what might be going on, but it looks like we'll be out of here sooner rather than later, so I think they can wait until I get back... How are you?" he asked after a moment's pause, another smile warming his voice as it crossed the distance to reach Reever.

All of which did nothing but to make Reever feel even more guilty for having to be the bearer of bad news. He stalled for a minute or so longer, telling Komui all about the injustice of Jerry not letting him have a whole cake to himself at dinner, about the other day when Johnny's glasses fell down a heating vent and they'd spent the day coming up with various technologically advanced methods of retrieving them before Jerry had come by and put a magnet at the end of a string and solved that problem for them, and then he began to explain his theory on how God had a personal grudge against his ever shaving again.

"So this morning I was about to go brush my hair and shave," he sighed, sitting down against the bookshelf to tell this particular tale, "when the phone rings. No one else was around, so I had to answer it. Komui..." His voice dropped and he shook his head, sighing once more into the receiver. Then he tilted his head back a little too hard and banged it against the bookshelf. He winced, but didn't really pay much attention. The song was back.

"It's bad, Komui. It's really, really bad. Morale's hit rock bottom. The only good news is it can't get any worse. But don't quote me on that because someone might feel the need to prove me wrong."

On the other end of the line, Komui paused.

"...Am I going to need to take notes?" he wondered with a quiet sigh. There came the sound of rustling paper from his end of the line.

"There's not a lot to write," Reever sighed. He recounted everything he knew about the circumstances of General Yeager's death, which, really, wasn't a great deal. It took him perhaps all of five minutes. At the end, because he had no choice and because it was stuck in his head, he repeated the little song to Komui, trying not to think about the mad delight that had filled the General's voice when the Finder with him had held up the phone close enough for Reever to hear. Over and over again, the same three verses.

"We don't really know what it all means over here, but we know enough to know it's bad. The sooner we could have you back the better we'd all feel. We're all beginning to realize it'll be a while before we see our beds again so we're all getting ready for the coming storm. Jerry's actually working on brewing a coffee that will have us doing our research from the ceiling."

Komui was silent for a very long time. The only noise from his end of the line was the sound of a pen scratching against paper.

"...searching for the precious heart, huh..." came the murmur, at long last. Komui sucked in another breath.

"Have the General's remains been taken care of?" he asked, every inch the Supervisor.

"Yes, sir," Reever sighed, massaging his temple with one hand before he dragged his hand over his face, feeling all at once very filthy and tired and scruffy and worn around the edges. "Cremated, ashes taken to the Vault. No one who knew him outside the Order has any idea of his passing. By the book, Supervisor."

"Good." Komui paused again. The pen-scratching sounds intensified.

"I think," he murmured again after a while, "with the signs of the Noahs clearly out there... if the Earl's upping the ante on us, we need to change our game plan a little. Do we have orders?" he asked with a sigh.

"The Head Generals want all the Generals rounded up and brought back to the Order for protection," Reever reported as he dragged the pile of related papers off the desk and into his hands with his foot. "Generals Cloud Nine and Winters Sokaro shouldn't be problematic. Sokaro's fallen out of contact a little bit, but generally they call back now and again. Generals Theodore and Marian... Theodore forgets to call in and I think General Marian makes a point not to. I've drawn up dispatch notices for everyone but General Marian's team. I filled in Allen's name but I figured you'd want to draw up the rest of the team yourself. I'll have them mailed out for your signature as soon as I'm off the phone."

"Don't bother, it'll take too long," Komui replied immediately. "You're sending the Generals' apprentices out after them?"

"Well, yeah, but they need your signature. I don't have the authority to--"

"Approved. I'll sign them when I get back," Komui cut him off, pen still scribbling, "just get those teams out there as soon as possible. As for General Cross..."

He paused again, thoughtfully.

"We'll send Linali and Rabi along. Maybe Bookman if he'll cooperate."

Reever would have argued sending Linali out again if he felt he had any right to, but if Komui of all people was behind it, Reever could get behind it too. Komui wouldn't even humor the thought unless he thought it best or at least didn't have any other choice.

"Alright, I'll pen them in and at least start calling the other Exorcists back from their posts." Reever paused to clear his throat, the next words coming out as a bit of a mumble.

"...I look forward to seeing you back, Komui."

For a brief moment, there was quiet on the line.

"I miss you too," came Komui's soft reply.

"...So. I'll tell Linali you said hi even though you didn't," he continued humorously, "and you tell everyone in the Science Department not to despair, for their illustrious leader will soon return for everyone to bask in his healing presence. And." His words turned soft again, sweet and quiet as though pitched for their ears alone. "Don't stay up allnight, okay?" he requested, entirely hypocritically.

"Hey, I was getting to that," Reever frowned, half crossing his arm over his chest. "Just because the rest of us don't think of Linali first and foremost doesn't mean we don't think of her at all. And I'll pass your little message along, but I'm pretty sure we're all going to agree that we'll be honored to bask in your healing presence as long as it doesn't involve another giant robot hell-bent on making Linali a body builder.

"Besides," Reever smiled, his own voice dropping to a whisper, not quite soft and sweet but running more along the lines of slightly mischievous, "I can't promise you that. How am I supposed to spend all night thinking about you if I'm unconscious?"

"W-what kind of a question is that?" Komui was audibly flustered, and probably a little flushed as well. He gave an indignant sniff. "By -- dreaming about me, of course," he declared after a second, "yes. Feel free to dream about me all night. As long as there's sleeping involved. In a bed. My bed. If you want." His voice turned speculative. "I do have very comfy down pillows, as you might recall."

That--

That... actually sounded like a very good idea.

"All right, all right. You win," Reever laughed gently, closing his eyes to imagine the adorable little embarrassed expression he was sure was on Komui's face. The pout that would come with that indignant sniff. They really hadn't been an item all that long and yet... it was something Reever found himself falling into easily. As though things had been this way all along. That was just the nature of their relationship, he supposed.

"I'll try to get in at least six hours tonight, okay? And I'll try to spend at least four of those dreaming about various things involving you, clothing being completely optional. And I'll do this all on your very comfy down pillows and you'll have to excuse any drool that may or may not happen."

"Just remember, you'll be entirely responsible for washing my sheets if you get them dirty!" The reminder came in a singsong, and Komui laughed a little as he paused again. "So. I'll get back to Headquarters as soon as possible, I'll try to call ahead if I can and let you all know what's going on... See you soon."

"Take care of yourself," Reever answered as he toyed with the phone's cord a little, as apprehensive of hanging up as he had been to call to begin with. Funny how things worked like that.

"See you soon. I'll be waiting."

After the call ended, Reever had to force himself back onto his feet. There was more work to be done, more calls to be made, more lives to potentially end or ruin. All in a day's work.

He was really looking forward to curling up in Komui's bed.

- - -

In the end there was no second phone call, but true to his word, a couple days later, the Supervisor arrived back at Headquarters, lugging several wheeled trunks full of waytoo many papers and books behind him.

"Wateeeer..." he moaned as he collapsed inside the front doors, slumping against one of the hated cases. Heavy lifting was not his strong suit. "Coffeeeeee... Or actually, just somebody else to lug these damn things up the stairs would be great..."

The cameras had caught the Supervisor making his way to the front doors and so by the time he arrived, so had Reever.

"Was the elevator ride that strenuous?" Reever teased, coming over to offer Komui his special mug of coffee and a hand up. "And it's your lucky day. In exchange for some of Jerry's delectable cupcakes, Buzz here has agreed to take the books back to the library and your things back to your room."

"Oh Buzz, my hero!!" Komui somehow managed to do a 360-degree twirl without spilling a drop of his coffee, stopping to take a sip and beaming at the pair of men. "I'm so happy to be back home, where all my things never have to be packed and can stay on the floor where they belong," he declared dreamily.

"About that." Reever scratched the back of his neck. "While you were gone the library spawned the Dewey Decimal System. You're going to have to start shelving things like everyone else, Supervisor." Buzz gave them both a slightly skeptical but altogether fond look before he picked up Komui's things and excused himself from their presence, because Reever had asked him to. Perhaps under pain of death. Reever couldn't precisely recall, but he knew he wanted as much time to catch up with Komui as he could get, as soon as possible.

"What? But... I have my own Komui system. I like my system," the Supervisor pouted. "When did you all have time to do that anyway?"

Watching the Finder walk off with his trunks, he took another sip of coffee, and leaned over to press a quick kiss to the side of Reever's mouth. "You wouldn't make me mess up my system, would you? Throw off all my hard-earned organization?" he asked, further attempts at pouting not quite managing to hide the joyous upward twitch to his lips.

"Trouble is, Supervisor, the rest of us aren't quite up to your caliber of genius, so you'll just have to trouble yourself with coming down to our level and coping with our system," Reever sighed semi-theatrically. Whatever Komui had, it was catching. He smiled as well, glanced around, and pulled Komui into a seldom-used hall for more, not-quite-so-rushed kissing and general being-close-to-Komui-ness. Because there never really was enough of that, and Komui being away so long meant they were backlogged. And really, this was the only catching up that they needed to do right now. Komui was fighting a smile, which meant everyone was well and not in a coma and on their merry way to their next mission, so everything was as good as it could be in a world where the apocalypse was perpetually nigh.

Once they'd had their fill of each other at least for the moment, Komui sighed, sipping at the last of his coffee as he leaned on Reever, sprawled out against the wall of their obscure hallway, and supposed he ought to get back to business sometime soon.

"...So. Not that I'm terribly eager to ask this," he said with distaste. "How are things going back here? Any news I need to know? Word on the General search?"

"Nothing, really. Jerry keeps trying to plan our wedding. He actually started bawling his eyes out when he heard Linali was going on another mission and wouldn't be able to help him," Reever shrugged, smiling at the memory. Then his expression set back into something more somber, fiddling with his left bracelet.

"Last I heard, Kanda's getting closer to General Theodore. They heard he wanted to paint a beautiful city and they're on their way to the aforementioned city. Both Tina and Suman have no clue where their Generals are. Which is funny, because I thought we'd have the exact opposite problem as far as locating Generals go. Suman's somewhere in India, as far as I can tell." Reever paused to shake his head. He always saved the best (or worst, depending on who you asked) news for last.

"We got a call from Allen earlier. He has a hot tip that General Marian is holed up in a brothel he used to frequent in China. They're on their way there now."

"Oh?" A raised eyebrow from Komui, followed by a dark scowl. "Good. Maybe they'll be first back. Then I'll have plenty of time to give General Cross a proper talking-to about keeping in touch," the Supervisor muttered, grip tightening around his coffee mug.

After a second, he sighed again.

"Well, I guess it's going about as quickly as we could have expected. The Generals are all such independent types, no surprise it's like herding cats, I suppose..."

For not the first time, or second time, or third time, or even the fourth or fifth time, Reever found himself wondering what sort of history Komui had with Cross. The Supervisor seemed to have such a grudge against him, and Reever found that strange because it wasn't as though Cross was any harder to get ahold of than General Theodore. The two generals were flighty in their own ways, but the fact remained the same. Something had to have happened between Cross and Komui, but Reever couldn't begin to guess what.

"It's true," he agreed in lieu of actually mentioning anything that was going through his head, because if it had been hard to ask Komui things about his past at random before they started having their... thing, it was definitely worlds harder now. Probably because he was expected to, and did, care. A great deal. It was almost as though he didn't want to know.

"There's really nothing to be done but sit around and wait for them to come back," Reever sighed, slipping his hand into Komui's. "Whatever will we do with all this new found spare time?"

"Worry, probably." Komui sighed. And then pouted a little. "Also paperwork. I'm sure I'm going to have a very horrible awful terribly tragic week of catching up, which you, being an upstanding human being and my significant other, will be obliged to heroically comfort me from, won't you?" he declared dramatically, setting his mug down before swooning over into Reever's lap with the back of his arm pressed against his forehead.

"What's there to worry about? We have teams of our best Exorcists traveling together in groups, looking for their extremely powerful mentors. Two of them are practically on their way back and the other two are known to call from time to time. Everything's going to be just fine," Reever reassured, reaching down to pet Komui's hair. He smiled a fond, content little smile. "And fret not, as long as you do your duties as Supervisor, I'll do my duties as your boyfriend and bring you flowers and candy, mostly candy, and occasionally distract you from the work I usually force you to do for cuddling. And candy."

Komui, looking up at the gentle smile on Reever's face and feeling that comforting hand move softly through his hair, decided now wasn't the time for confiding that message left by the Akuma that almost killed him. Now wasn't the time for sharing his private suspicions about how everything was definitely very shortly going to go to shit.

No, right now, he decided, he was just going to take a break. While he still could.

"Forget the flowers, just bring me twicethe candy," he requested with a smirk, sitting up again to twine his arms around Reever's slim body, resting his face contentedly against one scruffy cheek. It really was good to be home.

- - -

Calls continued to stream in steadily from China as the week passed. They arrived in China. They found the brothel the General used to frequent. They found the General. They had convinced him to come back surprisingly easily. They had found a ship that would get them back. They were leaving the day after tomorrow. Every call brought what should have been entirely good news. Reever had mixed feelings about it all. The closer General Cross Marian came to returning home, the stranger Komui began to act and the more Reever worried and wondered and agonized over exactly what it was that Cross had over Komui. It was all suspicious, actually. If he remembered correctly, it was a letter of recommendation from Cross that had allowed Komui to transfer from the East Asia branch here to Order Headquarters to begin with. So they had to have gotten along then, right? What happened?

For the better part of a week, it was all Reever could think about. He mulled it over at breakfast and during work and after work and when with Komui and when not with Komui and right when he was falling asleep and right when he woke up. He wondered about it almost all the time. Something about it justbothered him, something he couldn't explain. Every day he wanted the thoughts to just leave him alone. They weren't important at all, after all. He didn't know why he couldn't just let it go. Every day he wished for the thoughts to leave him.

And then one day they did and Reever found that all he wanted anymore was to have those delightfully carefree thoughts back.

It was the day he woke up, walked into Komui's office, and found the desk covered in pale gray papers and manila folders.

Death notices, along with the corresponding agent's file.

There were more than Reever could count just by looking, more than he normally saw inmonths.

Swallowing with great difficulty, he managed to make it to the phone, managed to dial Komui's number.

"Supervisor," he whispered into the phone, voice trembling so much it was almost hard to understand him. "You should... come in now. To your office. Now. Please."

"Reever? What's going on? I--" Responding to the other man's tone, there was the faintest note of panic in Komui's voice, but he clamped down on it quickly. "...I'll be right there."

And then he stepped into the room a few minutes later and simply... stood in the doorway, and stared.

"...What is going on here...?" he mumbled, reaching for the wood of the doorframe to steady himself for a moment. He took a very deep breath and then all at once rushed over to start pawing through the newly-made pile on his desk, shoving files aside left and right, glancing over the causes of death, looking for some report or summary that would make sense of this -- this slaughter.

"It's..." He tried to make sure to keep breathing, fingers clutching too tightly against a random file folder. Whose was...?

Tina Spark.

An Exorcist. Exorcists. Finders. HisFinders,his people and they were gone, oh, fuck everything, I was too fucking slow.

"It's started."

The thousand-year prologue is over. Time for the show to begin.

"...I should go talk to Mission Ops and try to figure out what the hell is happening out there," he said, staring down at the death notices and keeping his voice tightly under control. "Have... have somebody catalog these, please."

"I'll do it," Reever volunteered himself with a heavy, shaky sigh as he sank down in Komui's chair and tried to make some sort of sense of it all. Some sort of order. But there was none. None of anything. There was no explaining how... how could so many of their ranks have died seemingly overnight? It didn't makesense, it--

Peter Sutton.

Reever closed his eyes and found a notepad and pen in the drawer. He set those to one side and began to gather up all the death notices to... alphabetize them. He almost wanted to laugh. Every single slate-gray paper he handled was someone's life, was someone's death. He had at least a hundred of them, over a hundred of them, and the first thing he could think to do was sort them in alphabetical order. It was bureaucracy at its finest, and it was so funny that Reever wanted to laugh until he cried.

Olivia Abbott. That would be somewhere in the beginning. It was a start, some sort of start.

Charles Alexander. Jack Andrews. Those names would be near the top as well. He kept going, kept leafing through until he found more names that began with 'A' or 'B'.

Deisha Barry--

Reever's eyes widened. An Exorcist. He shouldn't have been so surprised, with a pile this large there was bound to be some amount of casualties in the Exorcist department as well, but... Deisha was, or had been such a strong Exorcist. Killing Level Two Akuma had been child's play to him, and yet-- Reever's hands stopped a few more pages past Deisha's.

Chakar Rabon.

Another one. Another one he'd sent out to find a General. Reever's gaze snapped up to find Komui, looking both stricken and horrified.

"Komui. Two Exorcists. I've found two Exorcists already. Go. Right now. Ask Mission Ops what the fuck is going on. I have to... have to find their files. Read them. I can't sort through this mess until I know what happened and... fuck, I have to make some calls, ask when the bodies are being shipped in and who the hell is going to organize this funeral."

Komui swallowed.

"Right. I'll... I'm heading down. Get someone to help sort through those," he murmured in passing, walking past Reever and out of the room. Somebody had some explaining to do.

By the time Reever finished, by himself as he simply didn't have the time to pull himself away long enough to get help, he had a towering stack of dead Finders and a neat little pile of dead Exorcists. Six in all. Oh, and one MIA notice, but that didn't seem too important in the face of everything else.

Once he was done, Reever buried his face in his hands and wondered to God why he wasn't crying. All of General Cloud Nine's beloved students were dead. All but one of General Winter Sokaro's apprentices were dead and the one that wasn't accounted for, Suman Dark, was missing. Deisha Barry of General Froi Theodore's team wouldn't be coming back again. Reever had sent out every one of them, and he was beginning to understand how hard it was to be Komui. He was beginning to understand the desire to run from these four walls and never stop.

Not to mention the Finders. A hundred and forty-two of them. He didn't know if he had any friends in the Order outside Komui anymore, he'd counted so many names he knew. The figures just... didn't make any sense. The sheer magnitude of the slaughter. The horrifying ways in which some of the bodies were found.

Like Deisha. Crucified upside-down to a lamppost, somehow missing an internal organ. There was even a picture in his file now. The Charity Bell had been destroyed. Three of the other Exorcists shared a similar fate, all the deaths reminiscent of General Yeager's.

For once, Reever honestly didn't know what to do. He'd done everything he could. All the right phone calls had been made, all the right paperwork had been compiled and sent. There was nothing left that he could do, and nothing he had done felt like it mattered a goddamned bit.

It was exhausting.

All that he could really do was hold his list of a hundred and forty-eight names to his chest and wait for Komui to come back. Wait for Komui to come back and hope to God that Peter's seven year old would be okay somehow without him. Wait for Komui to come back and try to pretend that Peter was somehow the only name on the entire list who had left someone all alone in the world while at the same time being fully aware that it simply wasn't true.

What felt like an eternity later, the office door slammed open, and slammed shut, and locked. Komui's weight thumped against it as he sank down onto the floor right where he stood.

"Mission Ops has no fucking clue," he announced without preamble.

Taking off his jacket, he flung it to one side and shortly sent his beret to join it, running a faintly trembling hand through his hair.

"Half our people seem to have just been... ambushed. No warning at all. It's a miracle we were even able to get notices for most of these," he muttered, staring at some stray papers littering his floor.

"We'll be waiting a few more days, too," Reever mumbled into his arms, not quite ready to lift his head to look at Komui. "For all the MIA Finders to fail to report back long enough to declare them dead. Because sometimes... sometimes the Akuma don't leave enough for us to know." He curled his arms tighter around his now extremely crumpled paper, sniffing slightly.

"Cloud's going to be crushed. All of her students died looking for her."

"They--"

Komui's head shot up and he stared at Reever for a second, expression slowly fading from wide-eyed shock back into the same utter exhaustion he'd sported walking through the door.

Still staring straight downward, he clambered to his feet again, slipped off his shoes, and walked over his collection of papers to plop back down on the tile floor next to Reever's chair. He leaned against the side of one chair leg, took a very deep breath, and sighed.

Reever looked down a second at Komui before he slowly released his vice grip on his list and let it go, then joined Komui on the floor. He put his back against the side of the desk and then pulled Komui into his arms, taking a moment to count his blessings and be glad that he even had someone to hold.

"I, um..." he began, quietly, expression still somewhat stricken but less distraught than before. "I... spent a lot of the last couple weeks thinking. This probably isn't the place, and... well, this is also probably the worst time, but, ah... I really missed you while you were gone." He gave Komui a little squeeze. His last words came out a very quiet murmur, sounding guilty to be uttering them. In fact, he looked as though he felt guilty for even thinking the thought right then, but... The only thing left holding him together was the fact that he had Komui to carry through this. He leaned his cheek against the top of Komui's head.

"...I think I might've fallen for you while you were away."

Komui didn't even have the energy to feel embarrassed right now. Just... quiet and sad and tired and confused, and a little lonely, but a hell of a lot less lonely than he could have been, and... unbelievably grateful that a person like Reever Wenham found him someone worth caring about.

"They do have some saying about distance and fondness and stuff, which I will totally think of what it is later," he mumbled, burying his face against the other man's shirt and pulling his arms around Reever's waist, clinging tight. Because...

Because there was fuck all else that they could do. Right now he just wanted to leave the door locked and... pretend the rest of the world didn't exist for a little while.

"I thought about you every day," he mumbled. Whispered.

"Just the kids and us, in that teeny little hospital waiting around... It was too quiet."

"Here too," Reever whispered back, finding himself once again running his fingers through Komui's soft hair. "I've decided that I like your bed best with you in it, provided I'm in it too." He pressed a little kiss against Komui's hair and then closed his eyes, taking a moment to just feel. To feel the way Komui's hair slipped through his fingers, to feel Komui's hot breath against his shirt, to feel Komui's arms around him and Komui's heartbeat against his and just... everything. And then abruptly it was as though Reever had been sitting in a dark room and someone suddenly switched on the lights.

He was glad. Not happy, no. He was definitely miserable. But he was glad. Even after all that had happened, he was glad to be alive. Even with all of the suffering and death and all the hopelessness and ugliness and horror in the world outside and all around them, even after spending the last few hours finding out how many of his friends were dead, even after realizing that their enemy was upping their game when it had taken everything the Order had to keep up with them to begin with... he was glad. Because he could still sit here and enjoy the feeling of Komui lying against him and because they could be apart and have someone to miss and because they had only begun to know each other and had so much more to discover. Komui was what made his life worth living, and it had taken a death toll of a hundred and forty-eight to make him realize it.

"Don't look up right now, okay?" he quietly requested, a little bit of a laugh in his voice. Then he blinked and reached up to wipe away his tears with the back of his sleeve.

"Just give me a minute and don't look up, Komui."

Komui gave a little sniff.

"That just makes me wantto look, you know," he murmured, sliding upward and throwing an arm over the top of Reever's shoulder. But when his face turned upward, his eyes were closed. He found Reever's lips by touch, long fingers ghosting across his face and the side of his stubbled jaw, followed by Komui's own lips pressed against the other man's; his kiss gentle but firm, slow, offering as much comfort as he could find it in him to give. A thousand thoughts were crowding through his mind right now but he didn't want to listen to a single one -- he only wanted to hear Reever. His breath. His voice. Sighs. Laughter.

It would be better if they could drown out everything.

And they could.

Not indefinitely. Not even for very long. But, for right now, there was nothing they could do but hold each other. Hold each other, and make believe that there was nothing, nothing but the four walls around them. That everything was safely confined to this room. There was no past to regret, no future to fear for. Reever hooked his thumb against each of his bracelets and pulled them off, a silent prayer passing across his lips as he slipped both colored bands into his lab coat's pocket. He didn't want to see them right now.

Then he touched the side of Komui's face and returned the kiss with something deeper, more passionate and with just a hint of desperation. He pressed his opposite hand against the small of Komui's back as he shifted, climbing atop the other. He shrugged his lab coat off his shoulders as he trailed his kisses to the corner of Komui's mouth, then to his jaw, then down his neck. He found the front of Komui's coat with his hands and began to slip it off.

"Let me take you far away from here," he whispered breathlessly into Komui's ear.

The words wrested a strangled, needy little noise from Komui's throat, and he reached up blindly to slip his hand under Reever's shirt, cool fingertips making feather-trails along the warm skin underneath. He stayed there for just a moment longer, concentrating on nothing but Reever's touch, Reever's kisses. Then at last he opened his eyes again.

Looking up at Reever for a moment with a half-lidded gaze, he took off his glasses to toss them onto one of the nearby piles of paper. He pulled on the other man's body a little to steady himself as he sat up and leaned forward, reaching out with his tongue to erase the last few stubborn tears from Reever's cheeks and kiss him again, hard, dragging the other man down with him by the tie to sprawl back against the floor once more.

For a while after that, there was no more talking. Only breathless sighs; little gasps; quiet moans of pleasure. The sounds of two human bodies working in complete and utter unison. The whole of the world was narrowed into this and only this: a soft smile, skin on skin. Komui's hair falling into his face. Reever's disheveled tie. For the moment, they left everything else behind.

"Ah---"

Johnny blinked for a moment as he passed by in the hallway outside, and paused, and decided that he had best not open the door.

After it was all over, once both men (who were at that moment not scientists or in mourning or, really, anything but each other's) were sated and exhausted in all the right ways and completely at peace with the four walls around them, they curled up in each other's arms and made the world wait a little longer for them. They slept better than they had in weeks, on the floor of Komui's office with Reever's lab coat for a pillow and Komui's jacket draped over them. They dreamed the same dream, of nothing at all. Of blissful monotony uninterrupted by tragedy. And when Reever awoke he untangled himself from Komui wordlessly, saying nothing as he stood and dusted himself off. He lingered a moment, then another, simply watching the content, innocent expression on Komui's face that was never present in the Supervisor's waking hours. It had to be a sin to be responsible for taking that away from him.

And so Reever left, still not saying a word, leaving his lab coat where it was. He had funeral arrangements to help with.