Disclaimer: I do not own -Man.

Pairing: Kanda Yuu/ Lenalee Lee/ Lavi/ Allen Walker.

Rating: M

Words: 5375

Summary: (Prompt for DGM OT4 Week 2015; Sept. 15: Permission/Pain); The only people that had permission to see them at their very lowest, so pained and upset, were each other.

Warning: mentions of past torture, antagonistic and threatening character, nonsexual nudity, past injuries.

Chapter: 3) Permission and Pain

If Lavi were to summarize the worst transgression he suffered from, it would be apathy. Not just apathy by itself, but severe detachment mixed with a unique twist of bitterness and a hint of disgust. Perhaps... Not, not perhaps; he knew it was most certainly due to all his years watching and recording wars as a Bookman's apprentice. He had been a witness to multiple upon multiple instances of the torture of others (and being tortured himself as well), rape, pillaging, looting, wanton violence, and a myriad of other things. Having over a decade and a half as a detached historian had left him jaded to the depravity of human beings—like their last mission in Venezuela when the suffering of others did not even bother him. If he were a normal person, he knew that would be a sign of a severe mental imbalance; however, his lack of concern was simply because he was used to all of it.

When he thought about it, he was like Allen in that way. He was aware that the younger male had his own moments of detachment with humanity. Like Lavi, Allen was a witness to too much suffering, too much evil. What Lavi was thankful for was that those moments were few and far in between for Allen. But, while they both suffered from this apathetic detachment, Allen was a better person than Lavi. While Allen may have those moments, he pulled himself up to a better place, finding hope and looking for the good in people.

Lavi was not as good a person as Allen. He could state that as a fact, no hesitation. Allen was a cup-half-full person. Lavi, on the other hand, was a cup-(very)-half-empty person.

Walking down the cold, barren hallway on the way to his room, he gritted his teeth, trying to stave off a massive headache. The pain medication he had gotten from the infirmary earlier proved futile, the remainder resting in his pocket. The headache had come seemingly out of nowhere, but that was not quite true. He knew exactly what the cause was—rather, it was more like who.

You know you can't get rid of me that easily, came the response of an oily, but frigid voice in his head.

If he gritted his teeth any more, they would probably crack. I didn't ask for your opinion, Deak, he spat back mentally. Ever since the Venezuela mission, he had been hearing more and more from his former persona. This situation was disconcerting beyond measure because any former persona of his should have been locked away behind heavy, chained doors in the darkest recesses of his mind. Once he shed a persona, they were supposed to be gone. Permanently. Deak, however...Deak's ugly head had been rearing itself like a nasty disease, one he seemed not to be able to shake. The forty-eighth persona should not have sounded this loud.

It was in the moments where Lavi became detached from humanity (and moral values in general) when Deak whispered in his ear. His forty-eighth persona was perhaps the most unique, only next to his own current forty-ninth, Lavi. As Deak, Lavi had produced his most concise work, but as he now looked back at his work through the eyes of Lavi, he knew that it was at the cost of a good moral compass. With a slight shiver, the red-head remembered recording in detail the gruesome torture of a young adolescent, about fourteen years old, because the boy had been a prisoner of war who held valuable information. That had been another moment where he had been a witness to moral depravity. The torture session and been long and arduous, a lot of blood and a lot of screaming and crying for just a small amount of information. Deak had encouraged it, telling his allies (at the time) that the act was necessary. Again, the forty-eighth persona had no morals, too cold, too cruel.

But you know I was always a better Bookman than you, he could practically hear the smug grin on the other's face.

The twenty-three year-old stumbled a little, then chided himself for thinking too much about his last persona. Too much attention gave Deak too much leeway to barrage his mind with his own cold opinions. He scowled, climbing up the first flight of stairs that would lead him to his room. He nodded to the stray finder or two that were also making their own ways to their room to go to sleep. You had no sense of ethics, he shot right back. No moral compass, no empathy.

He could feel Deak's sneer. Fool, empathy is not what a Bookman needs. During my time, I was the best record-keeper as I did not worry about the petty codes of human society. You know I'm better at this job than you.

Side-stepping a loose tile on the floor, he began to climb the second staircase. 'Better' is subjective, he replied, trying to remain as collected as possible. You may have produced more, but your work focused too heavily on the negative. Panda disliked that, and I know for certain that he prefers me over you. He reached the top of the stairs and turned left down another hall.

A scoff. 'Panda', as you call him, is getting too old. He is becoming biased himself, just like you. The last word was punctuated like a threat, and a deadly one at that.May I remind you that a Bookman has no need for a heart, Lavi?

I have no heart.

Oh, but if only you believed that.

I do.

Stop lying to yourself, Forty-Nine.

I'm not. I have no heart; I'm just Lavi the Bookman's apprentice. He climbed the third and final staircase, even more eager to get to his room and just collapse in his bed. The headache began to grow, practically pressing behind the back of his eye.

If I cared, I would actually feel sorry for you because of how delusional you are. Out of all people, you can't lie to me, Lavi, because I am you. I may be a different version of you, but I am you.

NO, he almost shouted out loud. I am nothing like you. I care about things, I know right from wrong, and I have comrades. A Bookman may have no need for a heart, but he can have comrades.

He felt a chill race down his spine and flood his veins before Deak spoke. Speaking of comrades, how are those three that you always spend your time with, hm? The science experiment, the whiny harpy, and the half-breed freak of nature?

While he often prided himself in his impeccable control, his was lacking right now. "You will not insult them, Forty-Eight," the hiss slipped involuntarily through his lips aloud. He almost snarled. "They're better people than you could ever dream to be, you wretch."

See, even more proof that you're lying to yourself. Deak seemed nonplussed as he continued. You say you have no heart, and I suppose that is half true. You do not hold your own heart... He trailed off as if he were about to savor the moment. Lavi got a terrible, sick feeling in his stomach, dreading what he thought his other persona was going to say.

"No," he breathed, pulse racing faster under his skin. His pace began to match his heart rate.

Oh yes, Lavi. You don't hold your heart, but those three do.

Not realizing it, he had stopped in place in the hallway. "Don't touch them!" he shouted before he could stop himself.

I WILL GET RID OF YOUR HEART, LAVI!, Deak's shout was like a bomb that went off in his head, causing him to fall to his knees with a cry on his lips. Curling over, he hunched in a ball clutching his head. You're weak. Too attached, too many emotions. You are unfit to be a Bookman and you know it!

With every word that Deak spat, he gripped his head tighter and tighter, nails digging in to his scalp. Deak's transition into Lavi had been a rough one to say the least. When he had still been Deak, there had been part of him that did not want to transition to the more fun-loving, jovial Lavi. Deak's resentment to Lavi must have held over in the transition because the forty-eighth should not be so vindictive, so aware. "I will never be you. I will never be you, never be you," he kept repeating through his clenched teeth.

He did not know how long he had been there on the cold floor of the hallway, but, by God, did he hope that no one would stumble upon him. He kept the litany on his lips that he would never turn back into Deak. He just couldn't. He had comrades, a life, and as much as he shouldn't as a Bookman, friends, and most importantly, lovers. Three, in fact. Too weak.

I'm not weak!

A failure. A failure as a Bookman's apprentice and a failure for your lovers. The last word was spat out like a foul curse. Deak was like a viper, caustic vitriol gathering in his fangs to bite, poison, then kill the three that carried Lavi's heart. Deadly. Vicious.

"Don't talk about them!"

You can't protect them from me , Forty-Nine. You're going to stumble and fall if you keep up this facade as a Bookman with a heart. And, when you can no longer keep that liar's smile on your face, speaking those false words, I will come after your heart. I will CRUSH THEM!

He all but shrieked, "LEAVE THEM ALONE!" His voice cracked; he hadn't been this upset in years...He tried to pull himself together, but for all his effort he could not. Not when his lovers were being threatened. He care about Panda, everyone knew he did, but his lovers were on an entirely different level. When the debauchery of humanity became too much for him, Allen, Lenalee, and Kanda were the ones to pull him out of his apathetic darkness.

So engulfed in stress (and dare he say fear) was he that he gave a violent flinch when a hand landed on his shoulder. It was only the familiarity of the of the concerned tenor that stopped him from lashing out, "Lavi?" He would have liked to see Allen's face, but he did not have the confidence right now for the other to see his tears and clammy pallor.

"Usagi."

"Lavi?"

The oiled voice slicked through his mind again. Heed my warning, Lavi. Clean up your act or I will destroy your heart for you.

Before he could respond he felt another hand lay on his other shoulder and two presences kneel on either side of him. Without looking up, he could give a ninety-nine percent accurate guess that it was Lenalee on his right with her hands on his knee, Allen on his left with his hand on Lavi's left shoulder, and Kanda standing at his back. They said nothing, knowing that the red-head needed to collect himself before he was able to speak. And, Lord, were they right. If he attempted to speak now, he would probably sound quite ill.

He sucked in a breath and wiped his eye before lifting his head to face his lovers. Worried lavender eyes raked over his features while mercury eyes were full of understanding and empathy. Kanda, still behind him, kneeled to look at him at eye-level. Cobalt eyes conveyed the message that their owner would be quick to get rid of what was making Lavi this upset.

"How'd you guys find me?" he mumbled. "Thought you were 'sleep."

"Tch, you're losing your touch, Usagi," Kanda said, rubbing his thumb over the tense muscle at the back of Lavi's neck. "We were already looking for you. Can't sleep without you anymore."

Lenalee added, "Everyone else is asleep." She reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out a handkerchief which she used to dab the sweat on his forehead. "Lavi, what happened?"

It took him a few moments to reply. "I...I was on my way to my room because I wanted to catch some sleep. I already knew you guys were asleep; didn't want to bother you. B-But, I heard...he, ugh." God, why is it so hard to talk now? Come on, Lavi, you're better than this, he berated himself.

A gentle hand clasped his chin and guided his face to look at his white-haired lover. "Lavi," his accented voice was layered with both immense severity and concern, "he who? Is it...?" he trailed off.

A nod. "Yeah, him."

He heard Lenalee hiss and Kanda growl, and Allen moved to hug Lavi's head against his chest—right over his heart. "I know how hard this is for you. Believe me, I do, but as long as this heart beats, we are not going to allow him to take you. You have me, Neah, Lenalee, and Kanda. We'll be damned before we are going to let you disappear." If there was anyone who knew about fighting for their identity with their life it was Allen. Lavi could guess his struggle as of late with Deak was a little of what is had been like for Allen to fight his Noah memories and genes.

"Allen's right. We're not going to let you go."

"We fought for the Moyashi," it spoke volumes just how important the situation was that Allen did not give his semi-automatic denial of the nickname, "so it's sure as hell that we're gonna fight for you, Usagi."

The struggling Bookman's apprentice grasped at his lovers like a dying man would for life. Like Kanda, he had a great sense of pride (that bordered on hubris), and he would deny sobbing like a child in their arms. He could count the number of times he had completely broken down on one hand with two fingers to spare. Before these people who were holding him, he allowed no one to see him in such a distraught state. However, now, they were the only ones who had permission to see him at his worst (save Bookman when the both of them were being tortured via parasites by the Noah).

As they got him to his feet and guided them to Kanda's large room that had an equally large bed—benefits of being a General, Lavi whispered his thanks.

The kisses and "I love you's" he received were all he could ever want.

He did not hear Deak for the rest of the night.

If someone were to ask Lenalee what she thought when she heard the word "uselessness", she would immediately say "weakness". In turn, weakness could have also been equated to uselessness. They were one in the same in her mind. As a child, she had been useless—a little waif of a girl with long hair and bird-thin limbs—and therefore weak. Because she had been weak, her mind not strong enough to handle the tribulations of the Order, she had been useless. The Order had no need for such an exorcist, so they tied her up until she behaved and became of use again.

She was in no way ignorant of the fact that her...different childhood most likely had some sort of messed up effect on her adulthood. Far from it, in fact. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why she always pushed herself so hard—in order to keep from feeling useless, from feeling weak. Even though she often pushed herself, she did not reach the extent of Allen, or worse, Kanda. Those two could break themselves to the point of reaching hospital stay, which had happened on more than one occasion.

Speaking of hospital...Lenalee winced as her light robe slipped from her shoulders, leaving her in her brassiere and underwear. The fabric irritated her skin to the point of being painful. She was standing at the edge of the onsen-style bath that was in the Order. She had been overjoyed when she discovered the new Order building had one since the last one had not. This onsen was unisex, but almost everyone was on a mission right now. She wished her boys were here right now, but she knew they were on their way back from their England mission. She probably wouldn't see them until tomorrow. It's been years, she thought as she ghosted her fingers over one of many shiny burn scars on her body, and these still bother me. They stung as if they had been afflicted just yesterday. (1)

The scars had come from her battle with the Level Three Akuma, Eshii, during the Edo mission. She supposed she had been fortunate not to receive any life-threatening injuries, but she knew she had not been skilled enough at the time to not walk away without some kind of mark. The air friction of her attack had not only burned away her hair and clothes, but also several large areas of her skin. Her face was not terribly affected (as she had been smart to guard it), only a small area above her right brow to her hair line and an area under her chin. Her arms, the backs of her palms, and her legs had been the areas of worst affliction. The burns normally did not bother her—unlike in the beginning where she wanted to cry with every small movement—and she could take some serious roughhousing before they really started to bother her. But there was a catch. To sound like Kanda, the weather is a bitch. Severe changes in temperatures made her scars sting, so it was no wonder how the pesky climates of different countries affected her this week. The muggy, thick air of the Amazonian rainforest made her feel like she was breathing water on Monday; the whipping, biting cold of the snowy winds in the mountains of the Himalayas on Wednesday had chilled her bones; and now she was back to the blazing heat of France. (2)

The young woman was so glad she didn't have any missions today because God, my skin is stinging so badly! It wasn't often that her burn scars bothered her to the point of being troublesome like this, but when they did, they left her close to tears. If she would have been sent on a mission right now, she would have been virtually useless.

And that would have meant she was weak.

I am not weak.

She sucked in a steadying breath, readying to get off the rest of her clothes. She bit her lip, hard, and grimaced as she reached behind her back and unclasped her brassiere, letting it slip away to the floor. The thick material of the straps dragged over a particularly aching burn on her shoulder and she couldn't hold back a whimper. She paused for a moment, giving her body a second to relax before slipping out of her underwear. Her underwear took longer to remove than her brassiere because her legs were the one part of her body that was burned the worst. Once she was completely nude, she eased herself into the lukewarm water—not hot like she usually liked it since hot water would have surely been miserable—and let out a relieved sigh. Before removing her garments, she had added a large quantity of a healing aloe solution that her brother had concocted for her into the water. A soft smile spread over her face as she through about Komui: always so caring and thoughtful.

Tipping her head back, she rested it on the edge of the bath as she breathed deeply. The burns are awful, but this bath is so very nice. It was not often that her job gave her enough free time to take pleasure in something like this. She was almost always moving, hopping around country to country as she did the duty only an exorcist can do.

With every passing minute, the young woman could feel herself getting more and more relaxed, almost to the point of getting drowsy. But, as luck would serve, it was in this state that she realized that she left all her salves and oils in her caddy. Away from the bath. Several feet from her.

She sighed. That was just her luck.

A long, drawn-out groan of frustration left her lips as she frowned. She contemplated at least twenty ways she could get the caddy, but all of them involved her removing herself from her oh-do-comfortable spot. Perhaps she could just skip using her salves just this once...? No, no, she couldn't do that. Those salves and oils were the only thing (combined with the aloe bath solution) that would give her any ease tonight. Luck seemed to pity her enough to give her a good moment, because just as she was about to wrench herself out of the body of water, she heard a very familiar voice call out.

"Heyo, Lenalady!"

She turned her head and a brilliant smile bloomed on her face as she saw her boys walking towards her, towels wrapped around their waists and bundles of spare clothes tucked under their arms. "Guys, what are you doing here?!" She turned her shoulders so she could she could face them better but held back a wince when a burn on her neck pulled in a bad way. "I thought you weren't due back from England until tomorrow." She wasn't complaining in the slightest as she watched the three of the, set their clothes on a little table near the bath and make their way towards her. As they took of their towels, she noticed they looked free of the expected dust and dirt that came with travelling, and assumed the must have cleaned up before coming here.

Allen picked up her caddy and set it next to her before kissing her sweetly on the lips and dipping into the water to sit beside her. "Thought you may need that, love," he said, smiling. "We have this third sense for you—lets us know when we should be home." She giggled because Allen was such a silly sweetheart, but she loved that quality about him nonetheless. The only person that could out-do Allen like that would be the one and only Lavi. And speaking of the one-eyed goofball...

"Nah, he's only half right, Lenalady," Lavi grinned as he walked around to the other side of the pool from her. "We hurried back because I knew you would miss this!" The flexing of his arms was something she expected but it was the flexing of his butt cheeks, one by one then both at the same time, that ripped a snort from her and sent her into a fit of giggles. "Oh my God, Lavi, sto-ha-ha-ha-p!" She had to wipe a few tears from her eyes as she tried unsuccessfully to stop laughing. It also made her so happy to see Lavi in better spirits since his mental run-in with Deak the other night.

"Jesus Christ, Lavi! Put that thing away," Allen playfully shielded his eyes with mismatched arms, but she could see him playfully peeking through them. "I'd rather like to keep my one good eye from being scarred, thank you very much!" The four of them had long since stopped being shy and embarrassed around each other when nude.

Lavi was so distracted with putting on a show for them that he did not see Kanda approaching him. "Don't deny it, guys! I got the greatest ass that—" he got cut off when Kanda kicked his hip, sending him careening into the pool of water with a great splash.

"Your crowing is making my ears bleed, baka Usagi," he said as he stepped into the lukewarm water and got on Lenalee's now empty side. He swiped a gentle and delicate thumb over the burn under her chin before stretching his arm around her and Allen. His long raven hair floated around him and tickled her side, prompting her to twirl a lock around her finger and give a light tug. You're not getting away that easily, Mr. Stoic Samurai, she thought as she gave another tug. Kanda raised an eyebrow at the tugging but then immediately rolled his dark cobalt eyes when he realized what she wanted. Her smile was smug when he dipped his head to kiss her. "Happy now?"

"Mm-hm!" she chirped. Allen snickered next to her as he reached into the caddy to pull out a jar with a green colored paste in it. Kanda noticed the jar and looked at her. Her grump of a lover wasn't one for many words, unless it was sarcasm—he could shoot off sarcastic barbs all day, like Allen—but his eyes told her all she needed to know: You can't hide that your burns are bothering you again. I hate that you're in pain and I fucking wish I could just take it away from you since I can heal. Instead all he said was, "Hand me the salve when you're done, Moyashi."

Allen was swift to give the jar to Kanda, but not before taking a large glob of the green salve into his hands and lightly rubbing it into the skin of her left arm. She shivered when he touched her, both from the feeling of the cool salve against her burn and the texture of his left hand. Whenever Allen touched any off them with his black Innocence hand, he always held himself back, always worried that his hand would cause them some sort of discomfort. Quite the opposite, she thought as he worked a thumb over a particularly troublesome splotch on her forearm. Allen's arm may have looked rough and menacing, but in fact it felt smooth like metallic flesh—metal that could bend and give and offer warmth almost exactly like human flesh could. The only difference was that the joints in that arm and hand were segmented and raised, his nails could be likened to short claws, and of course the jewel-like cross embedded in the back of his palm. Allen cared so much for her, for them yet not nearly enough for himself. She shifted ever so slightly so that she could brush her lips against the long, harsh scar that ran down his chest (and his back)—the same scar that she knew pained him from time to time just as much, if not more, as her burns were now. The tender, unexpected gesture made him shudder and rest his chin on her head. "Not about me, love. This is your time," he whispered, lifting her hand with both of his to kiss each of her marred knuckles. She didn't feel like arguing with her stubborn white-haired lover, but Kanda was right when he called Allen a baka who couldn't take care of himself properly.

Lenalee had to hold back another wince when Kanda's long fingers rubbed salve from the side of her breast, to under her arm and to her shoulder blade. Raising her arms to protect her face had left certain parts of her body more vulnerable than others and it showed. He mumbled an apology but continued to work on her burns. This man was the type of being who was rough and gruff to everyone he did not care about, cold to the point of rudeness, and callous enough to curdle milk. His hands were those of a warrior, a soldier, someone who rarely hesitated in his attack. Here was a man who had slain hundreds upon hundreds of monsters and who would not hesitate to lash at humans if provoked. But, it was these same hands that held and cared for her as gently as a soft stream, as sweetly as melted chocolate. Strong, though tender. Gruff, yet sweet.

Ripples near her legs announced Lavi finally surfacing from the water. I'd wondered when he'd show up. Thought he was taking a nap down there or something. A mane of red hair and a glittering emerald eye breached the surface, a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips as she felt another pair of hands cradle one of her feet. She let out an involuntary squeak when he began to slowly lift her foot as he brought his torso out of the water. The movement caused her balance to shift, her back leaning against the side of the bath with her leg outstretched and her now cold foot resting in Lavi's hands. "What are you doing, Lavi?" she questioned. She'd rather dip her foot back in the lukewarm water, thank you.

His smirk stretched into a grin as he leaned forward and kissed the stigmata on the front of her ankle, making her breathe out an airy laugh; it tickled. "Al's got a point," he said "This time's for you, so we gotta treat you like the queen you are, Queenalee."

She huffed in amusement, wriggling her toes against his cheek. "Queenalee? Is that a new nickname for me?"

"Yet another one to add to the list of fantastic names for a fantastic woman."

Allen was less concerned with the name but rather with, "How did you hear me under the water?" His bewildered tone was adorable.

"I have excellent hearing, my dear man."

"The only thing excellent about you is your idiocy, Usagi." If a sneer could be called loving, that would be what Lenalee would use to describe Kanda's face.

Instead of latching on to Kanda's bait, he focused on Lenalee instead, rubbing small circles against the sore parts of her foot and calf. She barely held back a moan because he seemed to know all the muscles that were bothering her. Just as with Allen and Kanda, Lenalee always felt safe in Lavi's hands. They were broad and calloused, even though he spent years handling Ozuchi Kozuchi with thick gloves. This man had the ferocity of a lion in his soul and a razor-sharp, savage intellect resting in his mind. Her lion might not be strong in terms of raw power like their other two lovers, but he could lay waste to an entire battlefield as well, both human and Akuma. A few words to take down a man here, and a few well-placed elemental Stamps to decimate the Akuma there. These broad hands that held her could wield the elements through his Stamps, bending them to his will…But, she was never afraid of him. No, never afraid. Like the four of them did for one another, he protected them with all he could and more.

No one else had permission to touch her like this, and not one soul could have ever made her feel this safe, not in this way. The combined warmth of the bath water and the gentleness of their touches were incredibly soothing to her tired body, to her tired mind. She had the comfort, however, in knowing that they wouldn't let her drown in the bath and would more than likely help her get dressed and to bed.

She was safe, she was loved.

As long as she had Allen, Kanda, and Lavi by her sides, she would be okay.

Published: 5/1/19

(1) I saw a really good headcanon by peadles on Tumblr about Lenalee having burn marks from her fight in Edo. Very interesting!

(2) I wasn't sure about the current location of the Order, and a lot of people are uncertain as well. So, I'm just gonna say France for now.

A/N: Hooo boy, it's been a long time. I started this waaaay back in 2016, so I know a lot of things have progressed in the manga. Equally so, my writing style has changed a lot, too. Despite that, I really wanted to finish this fic (even though I wasn't able to finish the entire OT4 week challenge) since I had already started this chapter years ago. As much as I would have liked to do the entire 7 prompt week thing, I felt like you guys deserved a conclusion to what I've already wrote. Thank you for all your support!