I uh... wrote this like... well, a long time ago. As in I wrote this after I read all the manga chapters this part is based on. And that's before they even got into the arc (before there was even Crown Clown?). Thought I'd post it anyways, it does no good sitting around. Wrote this for a fic exchange on LJ and Lord was this rushed terribly as I'm terrible with deadlines (Epic phail), so I hope you enjoy it regardless.
Introspective Introvert
He lies on his back wearing nothing but pants --boots and socks kicked off, coat and shirt discarded long ago feeling far too much like buckled binds wrapped around his body. Muscles whine at the mattress that's hard and lumpy beneath him with the cotton of the sheet clinging to the cold sweat of his back. He needs to unwind and let go, let his mind blur into a haze, become a mere speck in the drift of something much greater.
Feelings free falling.
Emotions and thoughts bump and swirl in time with the gentle rock of the boat, Edo and any form of land seeming so far away in a timeless sea of standstill motion.
The room is dark and stuffy with a chilly draft that makes his skin stand on end. It's dusty and dreary, and dank, and the blankets are so thin it seems almost useless and pointless. It smells of a damp organic decaying musk, leaving a bitter aftertaste pasted to his tongue. It's like a prison, a cell, a cage.
It's a sanctuary.
To Lavi, his dark hole in the wall has a much more appealing atmosphere then the black veins of dark misery throbbing wickedly in the lit main areas of the ship.
At least in here he doesn't have to see the strained smile Miranda gives as she assures everyone she's fine as she struggles with fatigue and the guilt that many exorcists bear. Not good enough, the thought is stamped (pounded, stitched, branded) in the worried crease of her brow, and Lavi knows all too well it's a feeling that just gets heavier with time. She tires, and leans on Linalee for support.
Linalee…
Linalee, ever kind and sweet Linalee with her hair now cut short. She tries so hard to take care of everyone, to keep everyone around her safe. A heart so large and intimately gorgeous that Lavi can't help but hurt knowing that with how it all is, it'll slowly just get chipped away if everything continues. And he'll do his best to keep her safe, but Lavi learned the hard way that best isn't always good enough. Lavi cringes. He can almost taste the salt of her tears on his tongue when he thought about what is to happen when they landed. When death awaited so many.
Heartache.
It was a painful reminder when returning to his room to see Anita and Mahoja talking quietly to themselves, smiling something secret, meaningful and deep. It could be seen in the gentle gleam of their eyes, beautiful and cherished. He knows why they smile. Lavi knows what keeps them strong. And he wishes so badly that he didn't understand. Wishes he remained ignorant to why they could smile, especially since they knew so very well that death would be their to greet them when Miranda's innocence let go of the spell keeping their healthy bodies from destruction.
Closed eyes and the mourning grey shades of tombstones flickered on lids like black and white films projected, crackling and fuzzy.
After that last attack, so many were to die when time ran out with the last grain of sand.
And Lavi will tally the deaths, keep track of all the events, know what happened and why because that was his job, no, his duty as a bookman. A sharp glance from the corner of his eye while he spoke to Crowley was all the reminder he needed from his mentor to snap his mind back on track.
He sighed slow and raspy and let sleep take him.
He dreams of crowds of people. They walk by him in the streets of cobblestone ignoring and shoving by him roughly. He watches them laugh, watches them cry, watches a man get slapped by a flustering girl.
He hears a scream and registers it as Linalee.
A sharp turn and a snap of the neck and he watches Miranda fall from clock tower, eyes closed in accepted stubborn grief, arms spread wide as if to embrace the sky. For a moment, Lavi almost believes she can fly, her mass and spirit weightless.
Of course that isn't the case.
Gravity pulls her weight down, too heavy to stay adrift, and from her figure tumbles down a golden hour glass, time run out and spinning.
It drops passed Bookman, eyes low and impartial. Crowley spares a glance but continues to mourn his lost beloved, the metal skeleton of the akuma nestled snugly in his arms.
Movement in the crowd, and he can see Linalee running. He can see her as she dives towards the hourglass, face set and determined.
He moves to help. Or at least, tells himself to. But he's rooted to the spot, legs turned to useless pegs of lead, his one good eye staring in horrid fascination.
She crashed to the ground, hand missing the hourglass by an inch.
So close.
One inch too many, a miss is a miss, could be miles away and it still wouldn't matter.
It shatters like sharp piercing chimes in his head, and the crowds around him continue to move like nothing important has happened.
Evaporate.
The crowds thin as people fade away, Anita and Mahoja stand a ways away and smile crookedly with gentle eyes as they crumble to dust.
Lavi makes a strangled sound as he looks away. Eyes now on a broken Miranda and a fallen Linalee, her hands cut on the glass she crushes beneath her fists in inner agony, vibrant hues of red soaking into the sand becoming dark and deep.
Lavi feels the earth beneath his knees and realises that he's on the ground. Books of dated events lay scattered around and it tells him nothing he wants to know.
Hand on shoulder and the world goes still.
A breath catches in his throat and he can't help but look up.
And he can't help but feel a guilty calm as it's Allen's face he sees, features soft with kind sorrow, smile small and kind.
He kneels down with grace, face to face.
He lives and feels so alive. No flaws on that body. No blood and visible damage. No signs of a gaping hole in his heart from where he had to watch as Timcampi replayed that fight. Lavi could feel his heart beat again. Here, now and present there were no signs of the Noah that let Tease into that boys heart to destroy him inside out.
Lavi pulls Allen down, burying his face into a cloth covered shoulder and shaking with relief. Allen responds, touches delicate and so warm.
And then they were kissing, fiercely, all tongue, and teeth and… fuck, biting until it hurt but feeling oh so fucking good. The kiss was wet and sloppy with saliva and… hell, his own tears as he needs to get everything out in a torrent of emotions, Allen his only outlet with his hands fisting tightly in Lavi's red hair, twisting and pulling Lavi down.
Allenallenallenallen… All Allen, and only Allen. Allen who he's pushed to the back of his mind to hide his source of pain. The broken image of his body, doll-like, and bloody and bruised kept under the carpet as he thought only of the mission.
But he's neglected his thoughts of Allen. The boy that he so desires but can't truly have.
That thought struck a cord in his soul, and he whimpers as the white hair boy pulls back and away.
An apologetic smile, and he glances at the remaining crowd behind him.
Negatives view. World changes.
Allen's cursed eye activates and the world becomes a tunnel vision to hell. The remaining crowd stands still to watch, tortured souls shackled to every person.
Allen lets go, takes a step back.
Lavi knew after the first few days of knowing Allen that Allen couldn't let go of his attachment to the akuma. An attachment that sets up an invisible barrier.
The boy that loves the akuma more than humans. A twisted smile and his heart broke.
The world switches back and he kneels alone on the cobblestone street surrounded by fog.
A rapping sound of wood and he blinks into darkness.
"Lavi, Chomesuke needs to talk to you."
He blinks several more times, tucking away memories and putting on his social face. He stands with a grin, trying hard not to wish Allen was with him in any way at all.
~End~
Reviews appreciated, criticism considered and adored, flames ignored.