Degausser – D. Gray Man Fanfic

Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Friendship

Rating: T

Note: Yay~! New chapter! I apologize that this is relatively short compared to other chapters but this is sort of a necessary filler.

Disclaimer: I own no characters or settings portrayed in this piece. Lyrics belong to Brand New.

DEGAUSSER CHAPTER 5: Fire and Brimstone

"When I arrive will God be waiting and pacing around his throne?
Will he feel a little Old Testament?
And will he celebrate with fire and brimstone?"

Lavi's head was pounding. This time it wasn't the sound of the multiple voices in there beating each other to a bloody pulp. No, this time it was because it had collided with a bookshelf rather painfully three times in the space of five minutes.

The first had been a punishment for his 'impertinent' behaviour which, truthfully, he could understand although he did think it was bordering on extreme abuse for such a tiny mistake. The second time was unexpected. Lavi had picked himself up and straightened out his jacket, mumbling apologies for forgetting to knock before coming into the room through gritted teeth. He had stepped forward and his world slipped upside down as a particularly glossy volume of an encyclopaedia slid from under his foot. He had crashed into the bookcase and sent an avalanche of books, scrolls and documents crashing down onto him.

He had sat dazed in the messy pile of books for a second before he heard the screech from his master.

"IDIOT! Look at what you did to my things!" Lavi could have known in his sleep what was going to come next. He had sat up to apologize but collided in the air with an angry foot of an old panda and had hit the bookcase for the third time. The case had shuddered and toppled on top of him.

Lavi felt ready to give up on life, succumb to the call of the books and just let them consume his battered body, but no; his body refused to die so trivially. He groaned and pushed the shelving from his body and rolled out of the mountain of information and glanced up at Bookman.

The old man stared down at him blankly, "Clean up your mess, idiot." Lavi watched him stalk back to his armchair then dutifully stood up. His muscles groaned and his arms and legs complained by pressing red bruises into his skin. Regardless, he pulled the bookcase up and placed it back against the wall. He straightened out the shelves and started piling the books and scrolls onto it carefully.

His head began to throb with a pounding headache that he really wanted to banish from his head for all time. It was the kind of headache he got when forced to watch a village flee from fire or raiders, or when he was told to leave an injured child behind and run away; that and the added incentive of Bookman's constant attacks. He was sure that he would end up with some kind of brain damage but part of him always wondered whether all Bookmen-in-training received the same kind of treatment – perhaps it increased their thinking capacity. That theory certainly explained Lavi's active mind that day.

He finished stacking the books and scrolls and turned to Bookman who was staring at him blankly.

"Good. Now, what is it you came barging into here for?" he asked bitterly.

Lavi took a less comfortable seat and perched on top of a tall pile of books just in front of Bookman. "I have to ask you something important, regarding Allen." The old man's eyes widened ever so slightly and his back stiffened as he fixed his wrinkled gaze on the red-head, but he said nothing, encouraging Lavi to continue.

"Just now he was possessed by the fourteenth." Bookman's alarm grew, Lavi could tell by the gleam in his black eyes, "The fourteenth wanted something, he wanted information on the Order and he asked me for it. I told him that I couldn't, but he kept trying to get around it, like he knew me. He's clever, so I wanted to know what your opinions were before I did anything that you'd want to kill me for."

Bookman's gaze dropped into a thoughtful frown as he considered the ideas presented and the ingrained law of a Bookman in his head. He sighed after a few minutes, resettling his eyes on Lavi.

"This is indeed a phenomenon that will be worthy to our notes."

"I'm not talking about the notes, Old Man, I'm asking-"

"I know what you are asking, do not interrupt, you fool!" He slapped Lavi across the head once again. Wonderful for his headache. "Listen to me. You are correct; you cannot give him information without consulting the Records Keeper and by the time you may have gotten an answer the fourteenth will have lost interest and would have found out information without our help. He is smart, you say? He can find out what he needs for himself."

"So should I try to stop it? It's already threatened to kill Allen, it won't bluff again."

Bookman hummed lowly, bringing his fingertips together in thought, "Is that true.." Lavi nodded softly and whether Bookman registered the gesture or not was unknown to Lavi. "Well then, we watch."

Lavi's heart betrayed him and thumped loudly in his throat, "W-We just watch?"

"We watch, Lavi." the old man repeated, watching him intently. Lavi recognised the challenge in the man's expression and knew he had to remain calm. He knew that he had to be a Bookman right now. There was nothing he could do to help Allen; all he could do was watch and record as was per Bookman Law. It hurt a stray piece of his heart that had evaded his rigorous training and was the main cause of his problems during the times he and Bookman went out to record wars or historical events. It had infected many more pieces of his heart since joining the Black Order like a cancerous tumour and he was sure that Bookman could see right through his chest and was monitoring that spot on his heart, ready with a scalpel to saw it off when it got dangerously big.

He nodded and met Bookman's gaze, "I understand." he said monotonously. "But.. what should I tell anyone that asks me about Allen's condition?"

"You can give them a condensed version of your observations. Tell them you have noticed that he is acting strange but as far as we know the Fourteenth has only revealed himself to you. Remaining unbiased as I hope you understand means that you will refrain from telling anybody about the Noah and will not take any action towards it unless it has revealed itself to a member of Order itself and has specifically asked you, as an exorcist, to assist in eradicating the Noah. Am I clear?" Lavi nodded.

"Perfectly." Bookman nodded in reply and waved a hand, dismissing Lavi. The red-head nodded and stood once again. He stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly.

He leaned back onto it, his eyes downcast and full of forbidden regret and uncertainty. He pitied Allen in that small section of his heart that wasn't cold; that wasn't the heart of a Bookman; that was human. He knew how upset the smaller exorcist would be if he came to face Lavi again and asked for help just to be turned down. Allen considered Lavi a good friend and protected him consistently as he did with every other dark Priest.

It made Lavi wince at the ironic nature of that love Allen held for him. Lavi was not a good friend. Not at all.

He sighed and pushed himself from the door and began to walk back to his room where he intended to bury himself in paper and information as deeply as he could until someone found out about the Noah. Neah.

At that moment he could do nothing but hope that Link would find out quickly. He hoped this because Link would undoubtedly tell Leverrier or the rest of the Order depending on what mood the Crow was in. Either way it would require the help of the Order – then Lavi could help too.

Yet at the same time, part of him hoped that it wouldn't be Link that found out first. Much of him hoped that someone like Lenalee would find out about the Noah and she would raise the alarm but in a subtle way that wouldn't get Allen into unnecessary trouble. She wouldn't be influenced by the Noah, he knew it. She loved Allen and despised the Noah too much to take pity on the Fourteenth.

"It's all on you, Lena..." he murmured, pushing open his bedroom door. All he could do was hide and wait for someone to call for him. He didn't want to run into Allen again.

He wasn't sure of what ashamed him the most; betraying Bookman by thinking such thoughts... or betraying Allen. But if Allen knew what his task as a Bookman was... it wasn't so much of a betrayal.

Was it?

Word Count: 1,450
Running Total Word Count: 13,560

Next Chapter: Does everybody really need to know?

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