I am dreaming, Allen thought. I am dreaming.

Or I am dead.

That was a sobering thought, and he crossed his arms where he stood, slowly rolling his neck around as he let his eyelids flutter closed. He was slightly disoriented – but not without reason, really. Allen was reasonably sure that a second ago he had not been standing at the top of a staircase. He hadn't even been inside – they'd – yes, he hadn't been alone, had he? Lenalee had been there. Lavi too… pieces are starting to slip back, flaky fragments, yet the whole still remains maddeningly out of reach. His neck finally cracked and he huffs forth a sigh, resuming his former posture as he narrowed his eyes at the scene above. Allen had been in churches a time or two, and seen everything from tiny little plaster walls and rickety pews to great stone structures, ornamental and solid with dust motes drifting down in the small shuttered beams of light. If this was a church, then it was bigger than he'd ever seen – he couldn't even see to the bottom of the staircase, although that could have been due to how it twisted and curved. All he could see of the floor was a shapeless dark abyss. And, last he checked, stained-glass was usually a feature of the walls, not the ceiling.

Musing, he tilts his head up, narrowing his eyes in the watery light staining his vision. Lavi, Lenalee… They had been… he doesn't remember where. He dimly remembers… Stamps. Lavi's hammer? And… that mechanical sound, the hum of his eye activating. Hesitantly, he brings up a gloved hand to touch the skin under his eye and… no, it wasn't activated – he hadn't thought so, but it seemed safe to check.

He lowers his hand and his line of sight in one, looking thoughtfully at the stairs. Maybe… he should go down them. Didn't seem like there was anywhere else to go, right? (A quick glance behind him told him that no, there was no door or window behind him, just a plain dark wall on this narrow little platform. And maybe if he moved, he'd remember. Or wake up, really – he wasn't going to believe the latter unless explicitly told otherwise (and this looked nothing like the afterlife he'd been told to expect, and he'd had weirder visions, so) and therefore it would make sense that he would just have to putter around for a little until he regained consciousness. That wouldn't be too bad, Allen thought, just a moment alone without someone peaking over his shoulder or the chorus of damned souls wailing in his ears. Just a moment, and then he could pop on back to the real world, and… finish doing whatever he popped off of for an impromptu break. He pads a few steps to the brink of the first stair, nodding to himself. And activity was good, right? Better then standing around waiting… another thought strikes him, and with some trepidation and embarrassment he really hopes that he hadn't gotten knocked out at the beginning of battle – it happened, yeah, but he didn't want his friends to be stuck rescuing him, and Lavi (to name one person) would never let him live it down.

Nonetheless. He had some stairs to climb, and he lifts his first foot in preparation when holy heck when did he get there?

Alright, that wasn't really fair, he couldn't tell what gender the figure sitting a few stairs down was, or even if they were a person. They were wearing a cloak, and Allen's powers of observation only went so far. (Yeah, he had a special eye, he couldn't see through clothing, and he really should start working on finding a way to mute that little voice in the back of his mind but right now it seemed speechless but that's okay cause he's speechless too –)

(Because that's Lavi.)

"Lavi!" He exclaims, descending a few steps until he's kneeling next to his friend. At his approach Lavi looked up, (something seemed off about his face) hands falling away from where they had just pushed back the hood, eyes widening momentarily in some emotion Allen couldn't quite place. Allen couldn't quite see much else of him save for the cloak, but is neck is bare and that nags at Allen for a second until he realizes Lavi's not wearing his scarf, nor his uniform.

He places his hands on Lavi's shoulders, finders curling in cool soft fabric. "Are you okay?" He asks when Lavi doesn't speak, hastily giving him an once-over in search of wounds or worse. "I don't remember what we were just doing – is this an illusion? If so, I don't want to hear you nag later because you obviously got caught in it too, but I don't know, I think I remember my eye activating. Are you hurt? I feel bad for Lenalee, she must be –"

"Allen."

His eyes flit back up to Lavi's face, and he's about to ask yes? but finds the words are trapped in his throat because he's just realized what was missing.

"Allen?"

He opens his mouth again, but he's oddly mesmerized – there'd been a running bet in the science division (he may or may not be one of the biggest contenders) about what was under Lavi's eyepatch, if he had no eye, purposefully handicapped himself, whatever, okay, but he never seriously considered whether or not anyone would ever find out. But here, Lavi… he wasn't wearing his eyepatch.

And his eyes were beautiful.

The one was its usual shade of vibrant, vibrant green, yes, but the other…

The thing was, Allen was no poet – and he had no words to describe the hues he saw. Violet, sea-foam, the grey of a rainy day, the shadowed crimson of life's blood spilled on the floor… Constantly changing, and each color unique. He's aware that he's probably staring, but he can't bring himself to move, frozen as he is (with shock? Wonder? A tiny commentary of how nobody was right, can he go back and change his bet or would that be petty? He can't name it) until a hand traces his jawbone.

He does move then, jumping slightly as he hand automatically shoots to Lavi's, but Lavi doesn't look perturbed at the action – he looks something milder than confused, bordering on contemplative, a cousin to considering and on the road to serious. Allen blinks back at him, both sheepish and concerned, but doesn't move. Lavi's hand is warm against the curve of his jaw.

Lavi studies him, eyes flicking to and fro for a minute, then nods as though he had decided something important. He withdraws his hand (part of Allen mourns the loss of warmth, yet his skin still feels the ghost of sensation) and transfers his attention to the appendage, tilting his head slightly. Then he drops it against his leg and looks across the abyss spanned only by the staircase and lit only be watery stains from the ceiling. "Where were you going?"

It's a relief to hear Lavi speak, to hear another human voice in the silence, and Allen says "I was doing down."

Lavi regards him silently, and Allen stares back, wondering what had been wrong with that statement – not like there was anywhere else to go, was there? Lavi shifts, rolling a shoulder as one hand cards through his hair, and Allen places a hand on the stair so he can sit properly, shoulder-to-shoulder, because, well, if Lavi's being quiet Allen can wait, now that he knows the other is here he's not going to just up and leave, the only ones he'd do that to are Kanda and his master. And the Noah, too.

"D'you know what's down there?" Allen pans his gaze sideways when Lavi finally asks this, but since the other looks serious – although he isn't looking at Allen, but out ahead - he raises his shoulder in a half-shrug the other can at least feel if he can't see.

"I have no idea, to be honest. I figure it at least would be better to move than just hang around, even if this is an illusion or dream… or something akin." He feels Lavi's eyes back on him and feels encouraged – motivated, even – to continue. "I mean… it this is an illusion, maybe I have to do something to break it. And if it is not that, but is indeed a dream, then I would rather be doing something than just sitting around waiting to wake up. Even if I have company now," he adds, a hasty amendment, since he sincerely hopes Lavi isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

He nibbles his lip for a moment when Lavi's gaze falls away, wondering how he can politely phrase the question I'd like to go now, would you care to join when Lavi comments, placid as though talking about the weather, "This isn't an illusion."

Well, that's one concern out of the way, Allen guesses. "So it's a dream, then," he pushes, watching Lavi's eyes flick to and away from his, and if Lavi's behavior seems a little off, well, this whole place is kind of the same, so.

So.

Lavi's arm is resting on the stair against Allen's back, and he is greatful for the company, even the comfort if he dares to think so because he can feel that press against his back, gentle, supportive. "You were right, you know." Allen doesn't look over but nods, hoping Lavi would take it as a sign to continue. He does. "You do have to go forward." The phrasing sticks in Allen's head for a moment, but he files it away for later concern, although he would like to know how Lavi knows this. Instead he leans back more into the other's hold.

"… Are you going to come with me?" he finally asks, not exactly how he meant to say it but that's what came out, and Lavi looks both amused and… morose, almost, as though Allen asked him something that he can't respond to – or, rather, won't respond to because he had been ordered not to. A flash of guilt inexplicably bubbles in his stomach for a moment, because such a look doesn't fit those features.

"Do you want me to?"

"What do you mean – Of course I do, you're my friend," Allen assures, wondering where this was leading – but when he looks at Lavi again, that strange sadness has been replaced entirely with a wistful kind of amusement.

"I can, if you want. As they say, it's your party. Cry if you want." The corner of his mouth lifts, lopsided out-of-place amusement, and Allen just shakes his head and gets up, turning his head from the long descent to his friend. He's about to say come on, then when Lavi says, in almost an afterthought, "You have to let me first, though."

Allen furrows his brow, and if he's honest, the first thought flitting though his mind is what the bloody hell until he follows his friend's gaze, and…

Oh.

"What – who did this?" He drops down again, fingers reaching out to ghost over the chains that he's just noticed trailing up and under Lavi's cloak. The other blinks at him and wordlessly shakes out his right arm, revealing a manacle sitting high up on his arm like a misplaced armband. Allen swallows and reaches out to touch it. It's tight against Lavi's skin, and he can see scabs in a few places as though Lavi had pulled against it, and he's afraid to try to claw or cut it off when it's that tight.

"Don't worry." There's a hand against his cheek, again, and it's probably a good thing he's somewhat used to the real-life counterpart touching him. Allen looks up, frustration lurking on the tip of his tongue, but he's somewhat derailed at the smile he's being given. "You have the key, right?"

There are two contrasting replies that spring to mind – one being what on earth are you talking about and the other being I do? – but Lavi points at Allen's neck and Allen raises his hand to find that he does, in fact, have a key. It's tiny – isn't that keyhole going to be way too big? he wonders – and Allen has no idea when it got there because he's pretty sure it wasn't a moment ago. He reaches around to find the latch so he can take the chain off his neck, but he's restrained by Lavi's hands. They look at each other for a moment, soundless, then Allen sighs and maneuvers himself around so he can get to the manacle without choking himself. That key doesn't seem like it should work – it's really only the size of the first join of his pinkie figure, elegant as though it is for the most delicate of clockwork – yet it works like a charm, and as the chains fall away Lavi makes a faint sound of relief and Allen leans out of the way and watches the redhead stand and stretch.

Allen gets up too, after a moment, attention retrained on the stairs leading onward. Now that that's sorted, they can go, and for whatever reason the longer he stays the more jittery he gets. He says something along those lines to Lavi, and the other just nods. "We'd better get moving then."

"Right." Allen's about to step forth when fingers curl around his, and he looks back with raised eyebrows to be met with a guileless grin, Cheshire-cat reminiscent when Allen narrows his eyes. Even so, that reminder is a comfort, and he tightens his own fingers as they both begin to walk.