Weighting the Feet of Progress

Sometimes, the Black Order's infirmary seemed too small. As if another victim pulled from the rubble would force the medical staff to convert sections of the dining hall into triage stations just to handle that one additional person. The dining hall didn't need to be so large right now, anyway. Some of the Order members, particularly the Finders, were lucky; minor injuries, treat and release and let them recover in their quarters. Only a handful of fatalities.

The Science Department had not fared nearly as well. Komui had passed Reever's bedside as he entered and couldn't look at him for more than a heartbeat before moving on; he attributed this to wanting -- needing -- to see Lenalee, not to the waxy pallor and ragged breathing of a body swathed in bandages. He'd passed Johnny, Bak, and others he recognized but could not name just then, so caught up in the staggering lack of familiar faces. He knew they would not be found down in the research stations, either. Nor in the dining hall. Not anywhere.

Statistically, the group that had fared the best was the Exorcists. In fact, they had even benefitted from the battle with the Level Four, though Komui promised he'd personally fire anyone who tried to make that case. Not that he could, though. He couldn't spare the manpower. Sitting beside his sister's bed, he scratched notes onto a pad just for something to do. Later, he knew he'd come back to the scribbles and be the last person on earth who would understand them. But it was something. They all had to occupy themselves, even when there was nothing to do. The nurses had tried in vain to convince Lenalee to move to her room; she could take a golem with her and they'd call her in for more tests. They could call her when one of the boys woke up. She had sweetly and politely as possible told them they'd move her over her dead body, and Komui had not tried to dissuade her. Clearly, not even he could convince her otherwise when she'd set her mind on something.

He brushed some hair off her forehead while she slept and every so often glanced past her to the beds beyond. Three beds, filled by the three biggest fools he'd ever met. He expected suicidal nobility from Allen, though the memory of the Innocence manipulating his body of its own accord sent a chill through him. The boy and his Innocence were of one mind and neither seemed to care what happened to the smiling shell named Allen Walker, as long as everyone else lived. Komui had seen the most extreme case of that this time, but he could not be particularly surprised. He had not been prepared to see Kanda and Lavi reject their limitations and stand at Allen's side. He'd thought Kanda more prudent, honestly. And Lavi... well, Komui hoped the Bookman was prepared to live forever, since his successor seemed to have other plans.

A soft creak called Komui's attention toward the door; he blinked a handful of times as the light streaming in from the hallway cast a shadow on the floor. The shadow vanished as the door slammed shut, the noise garnering groans and protests from the patients awake enough to hear it. No one near Komui stirred as the noise faded and was replaced by sharp, heavy-sounding footsteps coming closer. Komui ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his glasses while suppressing a sigh. Aside from General Cross -- who at least had a modicum of propriety and kept his presense limited to his testing rooms -- only one other person still strutted around Headquarters acting as if he couldn't be more thrilled with the present circumstances. Rouvelier paused at the foot of Lenalee's bed, glancing down at her, then at Komui.

"Supervisor," he intoned, narrow eyes unreadable.

Komui gritted his teeth. "Inspector."

The man looked back to Lenalee. "She's still here?"

He had no interest in dealing with the inspector even with coffee in his hand. He hadn't seen a cup of it in days. "I believe the Generals are currently preocupied with the Level Four." Not to mention none of them were completely healed from that attack.

Rouvelier pursed his thin lips and smoothed down his moustache. "Mm. Should send her to the Asia Branch, then," he postulated. "Get that guardian to train her, like she did Walker."

Komui decided he was glad Bak couldn't hear this. "Given the situation, we cannot be sure the Asia Branch hasn't been similarly compromised." Not to mention the fact that there was no way on God's green earth he was going to let Lenalee out of his sight.

The inspector snorted and shook his head, still playing with his moustache. "Pity," he muttered, glancing toward the other beds. "Fools're standing in the way of progress."

Following the man's gaze, Komui knew, understood, and hated the extent to which Rouvelier was willing to go for "progress". He had seen the man during other visits; had watched the way he sometimes stopped in front of Kanda and Lavi's beds, looking back at Lenalee and then over to Allen. Two parasitic-type Exorcists capable of fighting Level Four akuma were all well and good, but certainly four would be better. Four might win them the war before the end of the year.

The sake of "progress" naturally suggested a third or fourth experiment. And, really, what good were two equipment-type Exorcists with no equipment?

"Do you still intend to try Allen-kun for heresy?" Komui asked quietly, dragging Rouvelier's attention away from the sickbeds. "We would not have survived, if not for him."

One of the inspector's eyes developed a tic. "Heresy is heresy, Supervisor," he retorted. "He can't be God's Chosen if he is in bed with the Devil."

Komui met the beady eyes steadily. "With all due respect, Inspector, that is something we all should keep in mind."

The tic became more pronounced, followed by a vein pulsing in the man's forehead. "Everything we do is to destroy the Millennium Earl and his abominations, or have you forgotten?!"

"Would you have the Vatican fill the void the Earl will leave?"

Silence fell like a boulder between them, Rouvelier staring at Komui while the younger man held his breath. They were not exactly in the best location to have this conversation.

Rouvelier's eyes were narrowed further. "I would be very, very careful, if I were you, Supervisor." He turned on his heel, back toward the door. "You cannot protect anyone if you're on trial, yourself."

Komui sat statue-still until the door slammed shut again, answered only with silence this time. He quietly put aside his pad and pencil, and used his now-empty hands to cradle one of Lenalee's. He would protect his sister and her idiot comrades, he'd promised them as much, and it was all he could offer.

But that night he prayed for a way to do it.