Back to Life

Summary: Bookman Junior cannot understand. [Bookman Junior vs. LavixAllen]

Disclaimer: D. Gray-Man (c) Katsura Hoshino

Rate: PG

Genre(s): Some angst. Ficlet.

Warnings: Bookman Junior's POV. Plato. Some AllenxLavi.

Author's comments: I added Plato to the warnings in case some of you get brain damage thinking about philosophy like I do n.n; I wish I knew how to make myself shut up or stop narrating to make an actual drabble T-T; it got way too long though...gah, and I'm the one who greatly supports simple things ToTUu

The title is inspired from Bon Jovi's song, "Love Me Back to Life". It's not their best song but I still let it play when it comes on Shuffle ^^ I love Bon Jovi!!!!!!

This is BJr. from the fic, "Not So Perfect" so you can say that this is a sort-of LavixAllen follow-up on that inner conflict. You may read it or not, it doesn't really matter but it'll probably be easier to understand if you do; just to let you know ;) Enjoy~

I just realized that my paragraphs have become significantly longer than before o_o what happened...?

It's a little strange, feeling the sensations that a made-up character possesses; stranger still to be able to feel their love for another pulsing from within you. Even though it doesn't run as deep as it seems from my point of view, I'm rather alarmed to find that I can actually feel this fictional feeling. Lavi is completely invented by myself, he is not a real person. His personality does not reflect mine but his beliefs do mirror my own (with the exception of his purposely-created altruism). I am neutral. I do not make relations with people and risk emotions that unbalance my mental stability. It's as Plato believed, that the soul is made up of Spirit, Appetite, and most important of all, Rationality. Rationality is what reasons with Appetite if the soul desires something that can be a potential devastating error in the future; it is the basis of logic when the soul contemplates when making decisions.

"If held up by emotions, that balance is broken; leading a soul or its aims to be in danger because of the soul's Appetite taking over the decisions. And when Appetite rules the soul, chaos is created."

I shouldn't be allowing this to happen. Emotions ruin. Emotions pull people behind. Someone like myself should not be subject to feelings. I must be neutral, unbiased, objective, without a heart. My feelings for others cannot be apparent in my words when I write history; it's too risky accidentally letting slip an embedment of favouritism in recorded history.

But Lavi had helplessly fallen in love with the most ironic person imaginable and there is no helping the pull that he feels every time that person is mentioned or nearby; it even draws my own attention whenever that happens. I find myself thinking exactly like Lavi then, and it sprouts these conflicting thoughts. Suppose that it was I, myself, who had my character fall in love? Suppose that I have 'merged' with my made-up persona? That can only mean that the Bookman Junior had fallen in love as well. Or it was he himself who was the one in love and not the fake personality that is Lavi.

And it's with Allen Walker, theDestroyer of Time, no less.

But why? How? What made this even possible?? I am unbiased, neutral, heartless so to speak. Yet even when I leave Lavi for a while whilst I am in deep thought or when I converse with Bookman, my thoughts would occasionally wander and focus entirely on Allen before being found out and scolded by myself. It's on those times when I catch myself thinking too much of him that I realize with unease that I'm wavering from my position. This cannot happen. This shouldn't happen. It shouldn't be happening! What had gone wrong? Why did this happen? What made me fall so deeply for him that it's touched a part of me that I thought I've thrown away??

I've thrown away my identity. A place to call home. Things that people possessing individual names protect with their lives. I am starting to desire such things with such yearning that it almost terrifies me. And the only reason I am wishing for a place in this world is only to be able to say, "I am an Exorcist. I am Lavi and a part of the family within the Black Order. My home is within those walls. I am the nicknamed older brother of Lenalee Lee and a companion of Yu Kanda. I am the closest friend of Allen Walker. I am his..."

Oh, just his name or the mentioning of the word 'time' and my mind completely wraps around thoughts of that white-haired boy; heart skipping uncomfortably, face growing hot, my mind tending to those thoughts so caringly I can feel, as though a mother holding her beloved infant, the warmth of love spreading all over my body. It's so strange and so misplaced but so good I can see how it can be a lethal sin. It's consuming, posessive, addicting, obsessive, stunningly beyond capacity of doing anything but to think of the other. It's dangerous, a threat to your own life, and I know this so well yet...yet...!

It's outrageous, unheard of, and all this coming from the heir of the Bookman Clan. Something has gone awfully wrong and no matter what I think I can't dare myself to place the blame on that poor boy. Oh, never never never; it's unbearable to add another weight of responsibility upon those burdened shoulders of his. To have his too-scarred skin jarred once again by the carving of another sin would be unforgivable from my part. And I'm determined to not let anyone try to add more to taint his angelic soul because it's far too much for someone who deserves so much less. If 'God' can't even protect the angel that he is from any single evil deed ever existed on His creation then I will play God and be his protector. I will protect him, and I will make sure I'll be by him the day he'll die happy and with me beside him...

No. No no no, those time-consuming wasting onslaught of words...!! Why...Why?! Why is this happening? Why is it eating away inside of me and causing all this aching, this "internal pain"?! I am La...I am the next Bookman! I cannot...I cannot...yet...

...Can there be that possibility that it is all true? That I had truly fallen in love with him? That I have become Lavi? No, no, this isn't right. I am speaking with my own words and not his; this is still my Bookman self dictating these thoughts! But if that is the case, then how can it be?? Have I...Have I fallen in love with the boy himself, of his conflicting past and the intriguing prophecy that brought the Bookman and I here in the first place? After all, we learned of the prophecy the same time as Allen turned his adopted father into an Akuma; not a mere coincidence at all. Had I come to be appreciative of that horrible past because it had brought me to the Order? Appreciative to the point that I've become curious, wondering, and interested until I had completely submerged in the desire of learning of that past and so, Allen Walker himself? My whole life has been about finding the truth and uncovering mysteries of the past. And Allen…God, Allen, with that living facial mask depicting fake smiles and the thorn-covered paths he's tread and continues to tread awes me to no end. Did my Bookman self fall in love with the Destroyer of Time? Destroyer of Time, destroyer of History, destroyer of...myself?

Because it's impossible to erase the mental images of that soft loving smile touching my own smile expressing truly and brilliantly. I dream of it so that I find myself wanting and craving and there seems to be no end to the pain I feel afterward. I dream, and I'm lost to these wishes of his soft gentle voice telling me that he loves me, he does he does and he can't wait any longer, Lavi, please love me back because I know you do, Lavi, I know you do so show me, don't be afraid, don't be afraid...

I'm going mad. I can hear him repeating my own fake name. It's as though I believe that if he pronounces that name enough times and with enough love easing through the letters he can make it come true. Make me come true. Make my love come true. Make everything I've lived for up until now a temporary stage act and I can step off and live freely without costumes and lies. I can see it, the way we'll fold perfectly against one another if we used our worn hands to warm the other. After all, if he can renew a heart no longer in existence, he must be able to breathe life to nonexistent characters.

What is it that I am truly desiring? Am I seeking acknowledgement of my loving existence or do I want to become real through his compassion? I can hardly tell who I am anymore...All I know is that I am a figure caught between what is real and what is not, and terribly in love with Allen Walker.

Allen, Allen...what must I do? I never felt this way before and it scares me so. Save me, save me, bring me back to life. I don't know who I am anymore...