Title: Seven Days of Christmas
Fandom: D. Gray-man
Pairing: Allen/Lavi
Genre: Friendship/Humour
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In the seven days leading up to Christmas, Allen receives a present for each and every day.
Notes:This was written for tsumetaitsubasa at LJ, for the LJ community dgray_exchange's Secret Santa activity. Contains very light almost non-existent Allen/Lavi and which can certainly be read as friendship :D With appearances by various members of the Order. I hope you guys enjoy it as well!

Seasoned with butchered traditions, topped with a dash of mangled literature, with no offense meant and served with goodwill.

December 19, 1893

In December Allen would always remember Mana and death.

It wasn't so much that he was a morbid person. It was pretty much the fact that Mana had adopted him on Christmas day, given him a birthday on Christmas day, and died on the eve of his birthday, that was all. Again, he wasn't morbid, he just preferred to keep holidays in perspective.

He thought it should have been comprehensible to Lavi, a Bookman's Apprentice. After all, holidays shouldn't matter to one who was supposed to have no heart, should it? Yet when he had told Lavi his perfectly acceptable reasons in a bid to explain why he didn't celebrate Christmas (or any other winter holiday for that matter), Lavi had only blinked.

He was then tackled into the snow, and the matter was dropped for the whole of the following week.

Which was why Allen was surprised when, on the seventh day leading up to Christmas, he found a note rolled up and sitting innocently on his bedside table. Link looked ruffled – well, more than he usually was, in any case.

"Good morning…"

"Walker. A note for you, delivered by Miss Lee," Link said in his usual brisk manner while tying off his braid. Allen picked it up, curious despite himself. He had never received notes in this fashion before. "You know that I will have to look over that after you have," Link added helpfully.

"Would it kill you not to do your job for once?" Allen muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Walker?"

He summoned up a bright smile. "Oh, nothing." Before Link could have a chance to follow up on that, he slid a nail under the wax seal and broke it easily, uncurling the note, eager to find out what was inside.

His eyes, lit up with expectation at the beginning, slowly became confused. He frowned.

"What is that?" Link asked after a while during which Allen said nothing. Wordlessly, Allen passed the note to him. "'December 19, 1843'? Does this hold any significance for you?"

The furrow in Allen's brow deepened. "Not that I know of…"

Link continued examining the note. "Well, do you recognize this handwriting? It doesn't look like Miss Lee's."

Allen took the note back and looked at it as well. The loopy handwriting was almost familiar, but try as he might Allen couldn't figure it out. "No…"

Link then grabbed his sheaf of documents. "Then I don't see why we need concern ourselves too much over it. Please ready yourself for the day, Walker."

Allen sighed and heaved himself out of bed, heading to the toilet attached to their room, but not without one last glance at the note sitting on his pillow in a shaft of weak sunlight.

.

"1843?" Komui blinked.

"Yes. Do you happen to know if anything happened in 1843, on this date?"

Something seemed to pass over Komui's face then, parts mischievous and parts knowing. He smiled innocently. "Why, now that you mentioned it, someone did ask me to pass this to you…"

He leaned under his table – there soon followed a muffled squawk and what sounded like whole towers of paper sliding onto the ground. Allen exchanged a quick look with Link, wondering if that meant Komui was finally swallowed up by his paperwork. Eventually though, he emerged with a dusty tome in his hands and his spectacles seeming to glint even more than usual. "Here! A present for you!"

Allen fumbled a bit as the book was tossed unceremoniously into his hands. Golden lettering on dark red leather – "A Christmas Carol…by Charles Dickens?" He smiled, uncertain. "Who asked you to pass this to me?"

"Ah ah, can't tell you that!" Komui wagged a finger. "That person is very insistent on this, you know, and h – "

"Chief!" Reever shouted, barging into the office, his face flustered. "Stop dallying around already! Johnny's gonna explode something if you don't come out right this instant!" His gaze darted nervously from Komui to Allen and back again. He glared harder. "Right now!"

Komui looked at Reever, confused, then he laughed sheepishly. "Ah hah, heh, right! Run along now, Allen, I'll see you later!" And without so much as a by-your-leave, Allen and Link were pushed out of the lab, the door slamming close behind them.

Allen blinked slowly. "What was that about?"

Link sighed. "I have no idea, Walker."

Timcanpy only fluttered happily in front of them.

.

It was at night, in the protective covers of his blankets and with the soft candlelight barely providing enough to see by, that Allen was curled up with Timcanpy by his side, onion thin pages crackling under his fingers, reading the last words with tired eyes.

"…and God bless us, everyone!"

When he closed the book, it was to feel a tight discomfort in his gut, squirming to get out. The only thing worse were the tears that pricked at his eyes as he remembered how Mana had told him that story every Christmas at the little clown's request.

"And what happened with Christmas Present, Mana?" He had asked, even though he knew the story by heart.

"Christmas Present has 1842 brothers, do you know why that is so?" Mana's gentle voice had said softly, lulling the little boy in the bed to sleep…

But why, Allen thought, rubbing at his eyes furiously, determined not to let the tears drop in front of Link. Why would someone – who would that someone – why this book…

Sighing, and knowing that he'd be unable to figure out an answer just by staring at where Link was writing out his report at the other side of the room, he placed the book on his table and snuffed out the candle.

"Goodnight, Link."

He fell asleep to the scratching of pen on parchment and clowns smiling at him, promises of warmth and safety written in their eyes.

.

December 20, 1893

He was surprised, but really shouldn't have been, by a note that appeared on his table the next morning. According to a puzzled Link, it was delivered by a timid Miranda Lotto. However, he was a little less confused by the note's contents by this time. "'December 20, 19th Century'. Well, that's precise."

Link sighed, but by the flickering of his gaze to the note Allen knew he was at least slightly interested too. "I suppose you can go ask Supervisor Lee about this later."

However, it turned out there was no chance to as Lenalee kidnapped him soon after breakfast.

"We're going carolling," she said simply, a flush on her cheeks and a glint in her eyes that was far too similar to her brother's. Allen tried to smile at what was supposed to be the less manic of the Lee siblings.

"Um…I can't sing, Lena – "

"Oh, don't worry about that," Lenalee waved her hand, dismissing his hesitation. It was only then that Allen noticed Miranda, Krory, Marie and even General Nine standing behind her, all with varying degrees of intrigue on their faces. "Let's just go have fun! It's Carolling Day! Okay, Link?" Link looked scandalized – Allen would have laughed if he weren't certain that Link would somehow exact revenge on him. "Come with us too!"

"Miss Lee, this is certainly not within my job scope – "

"Aww, two spots, lighten up!" The suddenness of Lavi's voice made Allen jump. He hadn't seen the redhead for the past few days, so it was nothing less than a surprise hearing him here, too. "We're not going out anyway, it's just around the Order!"

"It will be fun," even Emilia was there, smiling. "This way Timothy will get to learn his English as well."

Timothy huffed. "Only coz' it's better than studying!"

"Sure, Timothy, sure," Lenalee smiled. "Come along now!"

Faced with the possible wrath of Lenalee and the unyielding headlock Lavi would have pulled him into, Link had no choice but to follow and suffer the cacophony of ten or so people belting out Christmas Carols in their cheeriest voices to the various departments in the Order.

.

December 21, 1893

Apparently, England had an unprecedented amount of snowfall on this day in some long forgotten year. It thus only made sense that Lavi would pull them out to stage the snowball fight to end all snowball fights on this day, 1893.

When Kanda was pelted in the face with three consecutive snowballs, Allen could only run behind Marie for his life.

.

December 22, 1893

Emilia's idea of celebrating the Winter Solstice was for them to huddle in blankets on the widest balcony the Black Order had, singing and dancing until the sun rose. Suffice to say, several Scientists took the chance to forget their work, get raging drunk and nearly dance themselves off the balcony. Lavi fell asleep three hours before the sun rose, head happily pillowed in a numb Allen's lap and feet resting on the back of a passed-out Komui.

Link was not happy, but Komui had taken care to spike his drink before he could even reach for his book and pen.

.

December 23, 1893

Allen came to the belated conclusion that the note-giver was a literary person as he sat listening to General Tiedoll softly telling the story of St. Nicholas, the day being the 70th Anniversary of the story. It was almost a surprise for him, the event this time, given that the past few days had been filled with craziness and activity. It was even nice, in a way, to sit in a dimmed room just listening and breathing.

"Of course," General Tiedoll said, "St. Nicholas had already been around before this, but the poem made it a reality for children, eh?" He chuckled as he showed Allen some of his drawings that were inspired by the story. They were quirky, with the stick-like dimensions familiar to caricatures, and they made Allen smile without knowing it and that, in turn, made General Tiedoll smile gently at him, too. They were so adorable Allen was sure General Tiedoll would have been a hit with these on the streets if he weren't carrying out his Exorcist duty. He was sure he would have bought them too, for the jolly laughing St. Nicholas and the presents forever piled under the Christmas tree.

Allen wasn't as familiar with this story. He knew of it, of course, and Mana had patiently repeated some of the lines for him to mouth the words over and learn his English. His Christmases weren't as fantastic as what the poem had, but the joy of learning a simple, ungrammatical word such as "twas" had sent a little thrill in him like hot chocolate on a cold slushy day. It was –

His lips twisted slightly.

"Now, where was I…ah, there we go. 'Twas the night before Christmas…"

Allen watched Tiedoll's eyes light up as he told the story, focusing on the words and struggling to not let himself fall back into the childish hope he had in his years with Mana.

.

December 24, 1893

"Of course," Lavi muttered under his breath as they bowed their heads, "we absolutely must sing this song every year, eh?"

Allen tried not to snicker as the holy tunes of 'Silent Night' rang throughout the large cathedral. It was supposed to be a solemn event, and in some senses it was as Komui led, at the beginning, the memorial for the fallen. The rest, however, was composed of a stuffy priest bellowing about the goodness of God, the holy job of the Exorcists, the goodness of the Vatican church, the Exorcists, the greatness of God, ad nauseum. Beside Allen, Lenalee's eyes had already glazed over. He suspected that Kanda was actually meditating beside her. General Sokaro was pretty much nowhere to be found.

As the last strains of the song soared over the cathedral and left a silence in its wake, Allen could nearly feel the unanimous sigh of relief overcome the gathering. The priest was eagerly (too eagerly, maybe) ushered out to an Ark gate back to wherever it was the higher ups of the Black Order went.

"Is it over?" Lavi asked, hopeful in the hush of waiting.

When Komui came back in and winked at them, a cheer broke out and there was a scrambling for the doors in a bid to get to the food before Allen did. Allen, laughing, allowed Lavi to pull him to the mess hall where Jeryy patiently waited for the party to begin.

.

December 25, 1893

Allen awoke to find Link, miraculously, still asleep. Then again, the poor man had probably drunk something spiked by Komui again. Looking around, Allen was bemused to find the hall in a state of mess and snoring people – he himself was wondering how he came to be pressed between Miranda and Johnny.

His neck was hurting something awful. Wincing, he pulled himself out of the tangle of limbs and stumbled to the door, trying to head to the relative space of the gardens.

The splash of red among gray, melting snow was the first thing that gave away the fact that he was not alone. Lavi grinned at him as he came into the garden.

"Morning, Al-len."

"Mmrf…god, how did you wake up?"

"Simple. I can hold my alcohol, unlike sprouts."

"Am not a sprout," Allen mumbled, shaking his head. "And I didn't drink any alcohol."

Lavi laughed. However, instead of continuing that train of thought, he held up the last note in the sunlight, smiled, and tossed it to Allen. Allen raised his arm and caught it, the parchment warm in his ungloved hand.

He looked at it and huffed, smiling just a little bit. "So it was you, after all." Lavi was still looking at him, evidently waiting for him to open it. Allen just stayed still, note held firmly in his hand. "Can I finally ask why?"

At that, Lavi scratched the back of his head and looked a little uncomfortable. He fidgeted, boots pressing down on what was rapidly turning into gray slush.

"Mm…gah, I'm not good at saying things like this, Allen," he sighed and looked up at the clear sky.

Allen scoffed. "Nonsense. What about all that stuff you said when we first met? Burden of an Exorcist and all that."

"Heat of battle, Allen, heat of battle! Geez," Lavi smirked at him, "can't believe you still remember that stuff."

"Don't lie, you never forget anything, remember?"

Lavi laughed. "True that, true that. Well, if you must have an explanation…open that, first."

Allen looked at the note. "This?"

"What else?" Lavi rolled his eye. "Come on, it's the last one."

Allen sighed. Putting a nail under the seal and breaking it, he uncurled the note for the last time, reading the line out slowly, in a flat tone.

"'December 25, 1893'. Well, Happy Christmas, then."

Lavi studied him for a while, making Allen increasingly uncomfortable as the stare went on. "Well? What is it, Lavi?"

"Hmm…" He turned away and smiled up at the sky, the morning light still too weak to blind them. "You're right, you know, when you said I shouldn't care for holidays. But you should."

"But I already told you…" Allen trailed off, his voice becoming smaller.

Lavi laughed. "You see? You had fun this week, didn't you?" Allen fidgeted with the note, looking at the ground. "One thing about becoming an Apprentice is that…you just come to realise how much more important the present is. That's it, really. I will always have to record the past and that is my fate, you know, but…that doesn't mean you – "

He broke off as Allen chuckled, his eyes filled with a dull light. "It still, I don't – " He wrapped his arms around himself, stumbling on his own words.

"I know it's still the anniversary of Mana's death" – Allen jerked and hunched in a little more on himself – "and I'm not saying to forget him but…damn, Allen, it's stupid to be doing that when you could be singing carols with Lenalee, or something, you know? I shouldn't – I can't do that, but you can. That's why I, these – "

Allen was silent as Lavi finished, just like that. The redhead was still looking at the sky, his jaw tensed. It was impossible what Lavi was asking – just have fun, on Christmas and his birthday? Just the thought of Christmas made Allen want to hurl a little as memories of the blood-filled night and the jolly, sinister St. Nicholas offering him a present in front of an unadorned grave came back to him.

"It's not 1887, Allen."

"…1842 brothers, do you know why that is so?"

Allen breathed out shakily. Closing his eyes, he could still see a smiling Mana at the side of a small cot, and a pained skeleton reaching for him, crawling on the ground. The images chased after each other, rolling, becoming one, until Allen couldn't even figure himself out anymore.

But after a few moments of silence he slowly lifted his head, gray, clear eyes meeting Lavi's gaze squarely. Lavi looked at him, his face unreadable for a while, before Allen's lips twitched. It was only then that Lavi allowed a grin to stretch his lips and a twinkle to reach his eye.

"Happy Christmas, Allen."

Allen chuckled, a clear sound that hung in the space between them. His eyes were still damp, and his mind still tossing memories of the past week into the echoes of Mana's voice, mixing everything up, confusing him beyond belief, but...

"Happy Christmas, Lavi."

In the now, Lavi smiled at him and he smiled back, smile small but certain.

Additional Notes: For those who are interested in the references…

Dates Used

December 19, 1843: Charles Dickens first published A Christmas Carol

December 20, 19th Century: The tradition of "Carolling Day" was revived

December 21, 1836: 5-15 feet of snow in many places in the UK. Artistic license used to change the date

December 22, 11th Century: Winter Solstice (or Yule) began to be observed in England

December 23, 1823: Clement Clarke Moore first published "A Visit from St. Nicholas"

December 24, 1818: "Silent Night" first performed in the Church of St. Nicholas, Oberndorf, Austria

December 25, 1893: The present of D. Gray-man. Artistic license used to determine year