Don't own D. Gray-Man.

Don't own the Cover Art.

Aren't You Tired?

Allen took a deep breath, and winced as one of his fractured ribs was jostled. He was sitting in the cell the Black Order had thrown him into after they'd declared him a threat to the Order and ordered his execution. And of course, you couldn't escort a person to their cell without "roughing them up a bit" as it were.

No one would help him. Komui was regretful, but he'd argued as much as he could without being declared a traitor as well. Lenalee cried and screamed for her brother to do something, but never did anything herself. Lavi had reverted to his Bookman roots, and only watched on with cold and uncaring eyes. And Kanda couldn't care less about Allen.

The former exorcist rested his head on the wall, missing the feel of Timcanpy perching on his hair. The golem had wanted to follow Allen into the prison cell but he wouldn't let his friend do that, and told him to go to Cross instead. Timcanpy obeyed, if reluctantly.

"If it makes any difference," a voice echoed in Allen's head, then changed to ring throughout the room. "I'm sorry."

The white-haired teen looked up, and blinked. Crouched in front of him was his adoptive uncle, Neah Walker, in his Noah form and frowning sadly at him. His lab coat was flared out behind him and his gold eyes were clouded in sorrow as he looked at his injured nephew. Allen smiled at him and gripped the hand that was hovering over his face with his right hand. "I don't blame you for this, Neah," he said softly. "It's not your fault. I should've been more loyal, proved that we weren't the same person."

"Bullshit," his uncle whispered back, his fingers wrapping around Allen's wrist as if he were desperate to cling to the pulse he felt beating steadily beneath the former Exorcist's skin. "Anyone who questions your loyalty should be killed to rid this world of such stupidity and, last I checked, we didn't look that similar." The last part ended in a teasing whisper as Neah tugged lightly on Allen's hair with his free hand, his face kind and eyes alight with the faintest spark of humor.

Allen let out a breath in amusement. "I'll have you know," he defended, "I probably would have made for a very attractive redhead." He'd seen a picture of Neah, once, and he could admit that having red hair would've made for an interesting comparison.

"I'm sure you would have," the Noah placated, his left hand raised up in surrender even as he refused to let go of Allen with his right. "I'm also sure that all of the woman would have cooed at Cross about how adorable his son looked too." The horrified expression on Allen's face was enough to have Neah laughing as he placed his free hand on Allen's leg for balance.

The moment of levity was shattered as Allen tried to fight back a pained groan and failed. Neah's hand on his leg disappeared so quickly it was questionable it was ever there, and the hand around Allen's tightened. "What was that?" The Noah asked lowly, his gold eyes locked on his nephews awkwardly placed legs. No, his eyes narrowed; not awkwardly placed, crooked.

Allen looked away, hiding the embarrassment on his face. "They wanted to make sure I didn't run."

The look on the Musician's face was thunderous. "They broke your legs," he seethed, eyes molten in his rage. "I will kill them all, those utter bastards."

It was Allen's turn to grip the Noah's hand, keeping him in place. "No you won't," he denied. "At least, not yet." He ignored the growl Neah gave him in response, and laid his head back against the wall. "I'm not going to live to even my twentieth birthday, Neah, and we both know it. I've had one foot in the grave since the day I was born." He nudged his left arm with his head, and felt it shudder in response. "Everything that came after that simply pulled my other foot closer and closer to the first."

Neah closed his eyes in a subtle attempt at denial, but Allen pushed on. "My only question now is what will happen to you?" Allen gave him a soft smile. "You may not be the best at showing it, but I know you care, and you certainly did a better job of trying to raise me for the few months we've known each other than my shishou has in all of the years he trained me. I don't want to see you get hurt."

His eyes were trained up at the ceiling, but flicked back down as his uncle pulled him into a crushing hug. "You stupid, crazy, darling boy," the man muttered into his hair, arms around the slight teen. "This is why Krory and Miranda and even my little Timcanpy would follow you into the pits of hell without you even having to ask. This kind of loyalty will kill you – hell it is killing you! What did I do to get you as my host?"

Allen breathed out shudderingly in a shadow of a laugh. "I'd rather not answer that."

They sat like that, Neah hugging him and Allen resting his forehead on Neah's chest, for a while longer before the Noah inhaled sharply in revelation. "I think I know how I can help you, nephew."

Allen stirred a little at that and eyed him. "What about yourself? The execution –"

"The execution is the use of an Innocence that separates the soul from its body, which would kill a single person. But not a second soul that is, say, living inside a host body."

Allen paused, mulling over what Neah had revealed to him, and began to laugh breathily. "They think I'm the Noah, so they're killing me. All of this for nothing."

The Noah ignored his nephew's morbid amusement. "If I can take over fast enough, I can catch your soul, and then I can use the Ark." The smiled down at his little host. "I can send you to a world where you'll be needed, appreciated, loved. All I need is your permission." He didn't even need it then, they both knew, but he wanted Allen to have a choice on the matter.

"A place to be loved…" Allen gave a wistful smile. "That sounds rather nice."

Neah squeezed his hand tightly in reassurance, and they spent the rest of the time they had together in silence, taking strength in one another's company.

It felt like seconds and an eternity when a guard appeared outside his cell. "It's time," he said gruffly, glaring at the white-haired teenager. Neah had disappeared when they heard the approach of footsteps. Allen struggled to stand, his legs screaming in pain for him to sit back down. He ignored them in an attempt of defiance for his fate and approached the guard with his head up and proud. He didn't flinch as the guard took hold of his arm and dragged him to his death.

He was thrown into a room with the Council staring down at him in disdain, and his friends and fellow Exorcists watching on to the side. Krory and Miranda weren't there, and Allen felt a moment of disappointment that he wouldn't be able to tell them goodbye. Kanda and Lavi were watching with uncaring eyes, and Lenalee had a death grip on her brother with tears rolling down her face.

Looking back up into the stands, Allen found the Generals there, and found his master with little difficulty. Cross looked completely unbothered, but Allen knew him too well to believe that. The grip he had on his chair was near shattering, and Allen could see the anger he felt over what was taking place in his eyes. That comforted him somewhat.

"Allen Walker," the boy in question allowed his eyes to lazily drift up to lock onto Leverrier. The man smirked smugly down at him, but Allen remained unimpressed with the posturing. The man noticed and scowled before continuing. "You have been found guilty of becoming a Noah and so have been sentenced to death. Is there anything you would like to say before you die?"

Allen looked at the man a moment longer, before scanning the entire room once. "Exorcists," he finally said, his voice hoarse as a lump formed against his will. "I wish you the best of luck in the trials you will soon face." He looked at Lenalee and Komui then, his eyes growing soft. "Tell Krory and Miranda that they were the greatest friends I could have asked for." Lenalee's sobs grew in volume, but Komui gave Allen a firm nod, and that was enough for him. He faced the Inspector again. "I'm ready."

Without pausing Allen walked up to the chair that sat in the middle of the room, the chair capable of ripping out his soul and leaving his body and Innocence there for them to use. He sat in it like it was his own personal throne, and threw a smirk at Leverrier. 'I will not falter on my dying day; this I swore a long time ago.'

The man glared back at him and snapped his fingers. Immediately, glowing blue chains appeared, attaching to his body and soul to tear them apart. Allen didn't make a sound as the pain began to take over. He soon found himself staring blankly at the ceiling in an effort to hide the agony he was in. A light began to appear before his eyes, growing larger and brighter as the pain grew.

And then everything went white…

And Allen smiled.

The silence that had over taken the room as the audience watched a boy be torn apart on the inside was shattered as the chair turned an ominous red before promptly shattering into glowing white shards. Two beams of light shot away from the wreckage, and both coalesced into forms. Many people in the room gasped.

What appeared to be Allen with his Crown Clown activated stood to one side, the masked face scowling darkly and both hands in the form of the long-nailed activation. He glanced around the room, dismissing people as he caught sight of them, and stilling once he reached the wreckage of the chair. "Get your hands off of him, now." He snarled lowly, and the group turned to look at the other form.

Grey skin, black hair, the seven stigmata noticed once he looked up at them…the entire room cried out in shock as they reached for their Innocence, only to find them refusing to activate. The Noah looked at them with contempt before looking back down and tenderly closing the now armless Allen Walker's eyes. Catching their own confusion, the room turned to look at what they had thought to be Allen Walker in the first place.

"Now, now Crown Clown," the Noah chided, to the shock of the room at large. "Don't get snippy with me because of something the idiots did. I'm just giving him a more peaceful look."

"Good, wonderful," the Innocence said curtly, frowning even deeper at the man. "Now let my Master's soul out of your grubby fingers."

The Noah sighed. "You always were too clever for your own good." He lifted his closed left hand and opened it, revealing a shimmering white and pink orb. It floated just above the man's hand, a faint song emanating from it.

"Master," Crown Clown whispered softly, walking closer to the enemy of his kind in order to see his Master one last time. A clawed hand lifted towards it, and the orb brushed against his palm before playfully weaving between his nails. The Innocence let out a faint sound of amusement and tried to close his hand around the orb, only for to pass through him like he wasn't there. "Please don't leave, Master," he begged, but all he got in response was the song echoing from the orb to grow sadder. "Please," he asked again, his voice hoarse and not a little broken, but they both knew. He can't return to his body because of the chair.

Letting out what could have been a snarl or a sob, the Innocence swung around to glare up at the stunned Inspector. "How dare you do this!" he seethed, accusation hard in his voice. "My Master…my Master is dead! Because of you! Make no mistake human," it spat, voice hard and unforgiving, "I will kill you for this, one day."

"Innocence can't harm humans," the man, stupidly, tried to argue.

"Innocence can't harm that which they consider sinless," Crown Clown countered, eyes like molten silver. "And I can tell you now that you, in my eyes, have sinned more than any Noah short of the Earl himself has. I will enjoy ripping you limb from limb." That unnerved the man into silence, and the Innocence turned to the Noah once more.

Neah was just ignoring the glowering Innocence, cooing instead to his nephew's soul as it hovered above his hand. Or rather, cooing to the thing clinging to his nephew's soul. "Come on now, it's not fair to make him suffer like this just because you're afraid to let go. He deserves to be happy. Would you really deny him that?" The pink inside the orb flashed a little as the being wavered between what it wanted and what was right. Finally, it began to slowly separate from the white which sang encouragingly to it.

When it finished, a pink orb revolved around the white one, wanting to be in its presence as long as possible. "Don't leave," it whispered faintly, not leaving the white orb's vicinity. "Please don't leave." Allen's soul sang back a sad melody, mournful but firm, and the pink orb let out a crying sound before solidifying in Neah's hand. The Noah looked at the Heart of the Innocence that rested in his palm, and turned to Allen's soul.

"What now?" he asked it, and the singing paused.

A thin, musical voice came out, words instead of lyrics. "Give them to Hevlaska. They deserve a chance to live without me."

The sound Neah made to that was sad and mocking. "They won't be living, darling boy, they'll be suffering." The Heart of the Innocence made a keening sound in agreement.

Allen's voice wavered. "But I don't want them to die. That isn't fair, for me to live and them to die." By then he was begging. "Please, Uncle Neah, give them to Hevlaska. Give them more to live for."

"You're underestimating yourself far too much," Neah chided softly, but sighed. "Fine, I'll get them there, but only after I've seen you off to the world that needs you." He looked around and imperiously snapped his fingers. "Ark, open."

A humming filled the room, silencing whatever talking there had been, and a door appeared before Neah, who boarded it with the easy grace of familiarity. Crown Clown followed close behind, wanting to keep sight of both the Heart and his Master. The two eyed the piano and multiple doors available, before the Noah sighed and sat himself down on the piano bench. He began the simple start up song to get the Ark to fully activate after placing Allen's soul down where Timcanpy would have been.

"So where should we go?" He asked his nephew, jumping from song type to song type. Nocturnes and lullabies; concertos and etudes, all playing at different parts and times, the doors to various parts of the Ark opening and closing in response. Allen's soul floated serenely on the piano, as if in contemplation before a series of quick notes emanated from the orb, and Neah stopped to listen to them. He laughed at what he heard. "A galliard and an impromptu? You sure do want an exciting life the second time around."

Even as he teased his nephew he began copying the notes, doors abruptly appearing before slowly, one by one, disappearing again until only one was left. The door glowed with the force with which it mirrored the Noah's song, a symbol carved above it to set it in place on the ark. Neah eyed the stylized leaf skeptically, but carried his nephew's soul over there, the Heart beginning to cry once more.

Sympathetic but not going to stop his chance to give his nephew an actual chance at life, Neah began to lead Allen's soul through the doorway. Its calls picked up even more at that, "Don't leave! Please! I need you!" This did nothing to move the Noah but it no doubt broke his nephew's heart. He hissed sharply at it, and it softened to low, mournful cries once more.

Allen chimed back softly, and Neah smiled a little at what he gathered from the sound. "Don't worry; if we're meant to, we'll see each other again. And even if we aren't, I'll still find a way to do so." That was his hard-headed nephew for you; loyal until the end.

The door lit up even more as Allen's soul crossed through, and Neah gave him a small salute. "May your next life be a little less stressful, darling boy." Allen laughed one last time, and then he was gone.

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Ja ne!