Allen and Kanda's past part 3 (hopefully there will be enough of these to get people caught up on what happened in the past)

Allen didn't fight, didn't let the pain show on his face as the two Crow who had been guarding him roughly tied him to the stake, paying no attention to his bruises, abrasions, and shattered bones that they themselves had given him.

Allen didn't fight, didn't grimace, didn't blink. All he did was stare at the people that filled the stadium who had all come to witness his public execution. People he had trusted, people he had fought to save, people he had even tentatively called friend and opened up to even after the abuse his heart had suffered over the years. He made sure to keep the accusations and blame out of his eyes because, truthfully, he knew that would hurt them more.

None of them would save him, none of them would try, and it hurt more than anything imaginable that they truly did not care, and in a dark corner of his broken heart he hated them for it.

It had been a stupid mistake, such a stupid little thing, but it had resulted in him getting caught, and now he would be burnt at the stake like a witch, like the heathen he supposedly was.

The procedure had worked, for more than a month now he and Neah had been stable, had been talking, had been plotting how to save the humans that one of them hated and other loved. Allen would do anything to try and save everything, and Neah would do anything for Allen. Everyone else within the house had agreed to help, for one reason or another, including the group formally of the Black Order.

It wasn't really that surprising, considering the information that the so-called third side was willing to give, information the Black Order was unlikely to hand over anytime soon.

And for three weeks, everything seemed to be working, things like winning the war and saving humanity had seemed possible, and looking back Allen thought that should have been his first clue that something was going to go wrong. After all, nothing in any of his lives worked, why would this be any different, just because he had Neah with him now.

Such a stupid little mistake, brought on by over confidence because his life was in order for once, or just a random throw of the dice of fate because there seemed to be some cosmic rule that he couldn't be happy, he didn't know, and it didn't really matter now either.

He had save a little girl from some Akuma, something he had done a thousand times before, and yet this time it had alerted the Order to his presence. He had been out shopping, so many mouths to feed, but he hadn't been out alone for safety reasons, reasons that came around to bite them in the arse when the Exorcists and Finders had started crawling all around, and within, the D. Campbell Mansion. Breaking and Entering on private property was apparently fine when it was the Dark Order involved, so many Laws they could bend when the world governments were owned by either the church or the Noah.

The other exorcists had come down on them like a tonne of bricks, cornering them like rats before sending in the exterminators. The exorcists of their group might all be critical point breakers, the power level of Generals in their own right even if not all of them held the title, but they were only three and the Order still had a few Generals of their own. They simply hadn't been able to cope under the full might of the Order they had once belonged to.

But more than physical power, there was one advantage that the Black Order had that they had no qualms about capitalising on. Once upon a time Allen had considered them friends, let down his shields even if only for a moment, and despite what everyone seemed to think he wasn't someone who could just throw that all away.

And Kanda and Tiedoll really weren't all that different when it came down to it. So, when the Exorcists had attacked with full strength, the others had not been able to bring themselves to do so. Things had gone quickly after that.

As Allen had been dragged away he had heard some of the guards bragging, the girl he had saved had been a lure. Lavi Bookman had survived, re-joined the Order, and given all the information he had on their residence from previous recordings and books he had read, before accepting his place back among what remained of his friends. The Order had known where they were heading, and had just been waiting on proof that they were there, given to them when Allen had rescued the child.

Over the last week of interrogation via "harsher methods", because torture was too nasty a word to be associated with a church and organisation of God, Allen had managed to infer what was happening just by the questions they asked and the bones they like to throw. Jonny had made it out, something Allen had already known as he had been the one to ensure it, but everyone else had been caught. However, despite having everyone in custody, only Allen would be tried as a Heretic, and no one was going to save him or argue their own involvement.

The Order had searched the Mansion from top to bottom, and as such had found Allen's lab and some of the more questionable substances and formulas he had there. He was being accused of using illegal chemicals to alter the minds of his friends and brainwashing them into helping him betray the Order. Those that had followed him would be allowed to go free, so long as they testified against him at a trial Allen wasn't allowed to attend. Those remaining that he had allowed a piece of his already broken heart wanted nothing to with him on account of they had no idea just how long he had apparently been working against them using such methods, and had agree to testify under similar conditions of not being held responsible for anything.

One Crow had taken particular pleasure in telling him how Lenalee was finding solace with Lavi, he seemed to be under the impression that one of the things Allen had done with his so-called brain washing substances was force Lenalee to harbour rather specific feelings for him.

Well, that rumour would effectively kill any support he might have had from more than half of those he would have thought were on his side.

Even Link had managed to escape prosecution, Levellier would be lost without his dog after all, and so the man had come up with his explanation of just why the rouge Crow had had to fake his death. Weaving a story of highly confidential missions and secret orders and just how they had both known all along that Allen Walker could never be trusted.

The fragile friendship Allen had spent nearly a month trying to repair now tasted like ash in his mouth.

And now, here he was, tied to a wooden pole and surrounded by wood he knew to be soaked in oil, even as his cloths were drenched with water to ensure the took as long as possible to die, listening as central executives read out crimes he had been found guilty of at a trial he hadn't been allowed to attend.

A dark little voice, not Neah or any other Noah, just the darker parts of himself he had spent so long trying to fix, whispered that at least now the pain would end, because the pain in his chest was so much worse than all the things the Crow had managed to do to him over the last week.

'Allen?' a voice said, so much clearer than anything else and so familiar after the last month. He didn't react externally; the voice was in his head after all. 'Allen, please, just let me take over. I can't get us out of here, I know that, but if I'm in control you won't be able to tell what's going on, and this is not something you should ever have to experience. Just … if you just let me, I can take away the pain, it doesn't have to hurt, it can be just like …'

Like falling asleep. And didn't sleep sound good, he was just so damned tired of all the fight and struggle and moving forward when there was no ground beneath his feet or the path he tread was made of broken glass and shattered skulls. It was so tempting … but …

'But, Neah, then where would you go?' Allen thought, and listened to the others protests of how he would be able to deal with the pain just that little bit better for only a fraction of second before cutting him off. 'Besides, I want them to know exactly what it is they are doing. If they want to burn me, I want them to burn me, with no lies or excuses about how I was a Noah to hide behind. They need to see what it is they are going to do, and whether they know it consciously or not, I want them to face the consequences of their decisions right now.'

And the voice in his head was silent, even if that silence range with pain and the knowledge that this was unavoidable, and they were both going to die in an agonising blaze.

Allen went back to what he had been doing since the Crow had dragged him out by his shattered arms, trailing his broken legs behind as they were unable to support him, and chained him up to the post that was only thing keeping him upright, staring calmly at his friends that had sentenced him to death.

Lenalee and Lavi, like that Guard had suggested they would be, were huddled close and clinging to each other for comfort, looks of pain and anger in their eyes as they gazed at him, the accusations clear even as they remained unspoken. Komui was oblivious, sitting amongst the other higher-ranking personnel from Central and looking at him with confusion, mixed with the desire to take up where the Crow left off for his audacity in deceiving his darling little sister.

Miranda was notably absent, as was Crowley, and the same dark part of Allen didn't know whether he should be glad that they, at least, were not here to gawk and celebrate at his demise, or if he should worry that there might have actually been someone who was not willing to speak out against Central for him, and they were paying the price. Because as much as Allen wished that at least one of these people had actually cared, he didn't want them to be punished because of it, and the two conflicting wishes that he hadn't even realised he had were starting to wear away at his mask. Noise Marie was also absent, but then he would probably have an excuse as Allen's screams would be sure to hurt his ears.

With one exception, everyone looked at him with varying levels of hatred and self-satisfaction, even several finders Allen knew he had saved at one point or another.

And of course, Kanda was the odd one out. Allen couldn't explain, exactly, what it was about Kanda's expression that made him think that he, at least, wasn't just there for entertainment. It might have the pure fury in his eyes, or it might just have been that, even in just a few short weeks, he though he understood the other better than probably anyone else.

At long last Levellier had finished his, rather impressively long, list of crimes and his pyre was lit.

It was suffocating, both the heat and the smoke, before the flames had even had a chance to reach him. There wasn't, of course, enough smoke to kill him quickly and end his suffering, just enough to make it hard to breath as the heated air scoured his lungs. The water on his cloths was heating, steaming, boiling him alive as the flames got closer.

Despite his best efforts, Allen was unable to hold back his screams as the fire finally started to eat away at his toes, bare and broken and now blistered and black, the pain so much worst than anything else he had experienced over the last week simply because he knew it would not end no matter how much he pleaded and screamed for it to do so.

And then, despite all expectations and common sense, a strong pair of arms was wrapping around him, bringing him even only a second of relief, before true panic set in as dry, chapped lips rested near his ear and whispered in a harsh voice.

'You won't die alone, Allen, I can offer you nothing else but this.'

Kanda had sat through the proceedings for the farce of a trial silently, and surprising no one had asked for his testimony, and now he was going to do the same at the execution, at least for the beginning.

This … wasn't right, and he knew it, though no one else seemed to have realised that yet. He hated these people that would turn against and kill the person that had saved all their fucking arses more times than he could count, a person they had forced to open up and love them despite knowing better.

As the two uncaring Crow brought out the broken, white haired, child, and chained him to a stake amongst the oil-soaked wood, Kanda was forced to admit certain things he had been denying for far too long, if only to himself.

He cared for the bean sprout better known as Allen Walker. It had been a slow thing, and as someone who wasn't that quick witted it had taken him way too long to realise, but budding respect had grown into something stronger, and he had lost himself in that feeling during the months after Alma's death, realised the depth of it during that month in the mansion when he found out he might not have to kill the brat after all, something that, looking back, had always been more about revenge on the person that would kill him than anything else.

And as these idiots read out charges that had been made up and justified using crooked evidence, all he could do was look down at the pain in Allen's eyes, and think that he deserved better than this, and he would do anything to make it so.

He gripped Mugden's hilt in order to keep from lashing out as they lit the fire, especially as he saw the triumph in their so called friend's eyes.

Kanda waited until the flames had reached him, waited until they were hot enough that no one could get close without killing themselves in the process, waited right up until the screams broke what little remained off his patience.

He stood suddenly, those around him reached for him, their eyes questioning through their growing horror as it finally started to sink in what there had done. But it was too late to back out now, and he didn't let them touch him, didn't want their filth on him, didn't want them to try and stop him. When he started leaping down the stands towards the center, down to that barren earth where they had built their pile of wood, only then did they start to cry out in shock and protest, the horror of the noise that was starting to block out the ability to think, which these people didn't seem to have had in the first place, tinging their tone of voice as said voices started to rise in an effort to be heard.

Those that would block his way moved to grab him, stop him, but they were too slow and soon he was standing in that same field, the heat of the fire reaching out to welcome him as he continued to walk forward, beating those that would try to save him back. The crackling of flames and screams were now mixed with please for mercy that broke his heart.

And at long last, he too was bound at the prior though no chains were needed to do it. His long hair had long ago caught alight, his coat too, and he had to force himself to move though the pain in order to wrap his arms around one of only two people he had ever loved, clinging to the stake because he refused to survive the death of the second person he was to lose. He gritted his teeth as his curse seal tried to fix the damage, but it was already used up and the fires just continued to burn through the remainder of its healing power.

He couldn't save the Moyashi, with Central that was a lost cause and he would have been chained up like the other two that had tried to do so, but …

'You won't die alone, Allen, I can offer you nothing else but this,' because Allen didn't deserve to die alone, screaming and writhing in front of uncaring people as their stared at their sick form of entertainment.

Allen deserved to die in the arms of someone who loved him, next to a person who would fight beside him for what they both believed in, as a warier.

And if Kanda had to burn next to him in order to bring even half of that to pass, then burn next to him he would.

Ghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghg

It just took me nearly 3 thousand words to write a death scene, I think that's a record for me. Wonder how I'm going to get them out of this one, because that was seriously part of this story, not an extra. And I am really sorry for leaving it there, I have plans for what comes next, but as I stated before I am unable to write it up at the moment. Hopefully it wont be too long.

(Note: killing me before I write it might get rid of some of your frustrations, but it will severally decrease your chances of ever getting anymore. I say this as I build a virtual fortress to hide behind)