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Mea Culpa	By : saxonjesus Category: +. to F > D. Gray Man Views: 1739 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Part III: Ready to Run

Bookmen were not stupid, nor did they make simple mistakes, and Yuu knew for a
fact that this room was the one Lenalee had supplied for him. And yet, Bookman
was on the bed, stony-faced and looking for all the world as if he was a
statue. It wasn't worth it to confront the idiot, not anymore, so the
dark-haired man simply slipped into the room without another glance at his bed.
He pulled off his clothes and replaced them with a baggy shirt and equally baggy
pants. Reaching into his hair, he untied the ribbon and drew it out in one
swift motion. His dark hair fell like a shimmering blanket around his back,
arms, and chest in the moonlight. He thought he heard a gasp from his bed, but
Yuu ignored it, intent on preparing for sleep.

When he had finally finished his nightly routine, he turned back toward the
bed. Seeing Bookman still there, an almost expectant look on his moonlight-pale
face, Yuu turned--effectively snubbing the younger man--and stalked from the room.
He walked out into the corridor and, ignoring the squeaks of the wooden
floorboards, knocked lightly upon Lenalee's door. He was lucky that she
answered it, but he knew she would. Moyashi, after all, was no host, and
he would not cater to the needs of two people he currently despised, especially
at this time of night.

"What is it, Yuu-kun?" Lenalee's voice was concerned.

"There's a parasite in my room," the Japanese man replied, trying his
best to look upset. His previous meditation made it difficult, though.
Lenalee's face scrunched up in confusion. "A rabbit-like parasite,"
Yuu elaborated.

Lenalee's eyes went round, and she giggled. "Maybe he... just wants to
talk?" She suggested. Yuu was immediately suspicious. Something had
happened during his time near the Thames. Perhaps his hostess had talked with
Bookman, or maybe she understood the redhead far better than he ever had. That
thought hurt. In his mind, he was desperately yelling that no one knew Bookman
better than him, but then he remembered what had happened. Bookman had lied to
him from the start. There was no way for him to know what had actually been
true.

"Che." He walked back to the room, closed the door behind him,
and stared long and hard at his former lover. He tried to ignore the pang in
his heart as he noted how... sensuous the man was looking.

"What do you want?" Yuu asked. Bookman jumped, as if he hadn't
expected to be acknowledged.

"I was going to ask you to come with me," Bookman blurted, his face
full of conflicting emotions that Yuu was sure were echoed on his own visage.

That wasn't what he had been expecting the redhead to say. Blinking, he
couldn't do more than stand there with wide eyes and a slack jaw.
"Eh?" He managed to choke out.

"The thing I had to do--the thing that was more important than history,
the thing that was more important than the record--I was gonna ask y'to come
with me." It was Lavi who spoke, not Bookman. And that sparked the anger
that coarsed with the force of a typhoon through the Japanese man's veins. He
suddenly wished he had Mugen in his hand so that he could slash the redhead
into ribbons.

"You think I would have come!?" Yuu shouted angrily, fisting his
hands and charging forward to strangle the miserable excuse for an existence on
his bed. He barely registered Lavi's face falling into a hurt expression before
his fist connected with the man's shoulder and they both fell down onto the
mattress, Yuu pinning the redhead and raising his fist for another strike. Lavi
quailed under him but let the next punch hit his jaw.

"I hoped," the man admitted quietly. Lavi raised a hand and put it to
Yuu's left shoulder. The dark-haired man shrugged it off and pinned the redhead
harder.

"Why did you think you even had a chance in Hell of getting
me to come along?" Yuu hissed, baring his teeth.

"I--"

Yuu didn't want to hear it, so he punched the man again. Lavi's nose began to
bleed, though it wasn't broken. "You could have at least told me it
was over, rather than pretending as if I didn't exist! Or would such an action
have confirmed for you that you may have had an attachment?" The Japanese
man snarled, bringing his face dangerously close to that of the man beneath
him.

"Yes!" Lavi shouted, pushing the older man off him in a surprising
feat of strength. "I'm a Bookman, Yuu, I'm not supposed to love
someone!"

"You never loved me!"

Lavi looked as if he had been slapped by Allen's Innocence. "What made you
think that?" He whispered.

"You never told me," Yuu began quietly. Lavi opened his mouth to
protest, but Yuu glared at him, and the redhead relaxed. "You always hid
from everyone, you were hardly ever genuine, even with me, you asked questions
that pried, you always made it perfectly clear it was just an indulgence!"
By the end of the list, he was screaming, his chest heaving with deep, gulping
breaths and his heart beating at a rate Yuu only achieved when training with
Mugen.

"And what was I supposed to do!?" Lavi yelled, matching the Japanese
man's volume and then some. "It's my job! I don't know anything else but
this life! My first memory is of me at the age of six, renouncing my
name and pledging myself to the path of a Bookman! Our relationship went
against every single one of the vows I took that day, and with the Old Panda
gone, there was no one else to record. I had to, Yuu-chan, I've never
known anything else."

Yuu scoffed. "You could have told me! You never told me!
Even now, I have to concede the fact that Lenalee knows more about you
than I ever will! It was an indulgence, Lavi, nothing more!"

"Then why do you call for me in your sleep?" Lavi shouted.

"You would, too, if you saw what I see! I replay your death every night,
is that enough for you!?" Yuu snapped, not caring that his response
admitted that he loved the other man far more than he ever should have.

"I never died," Lavi said, sounding surprised. His tone was quiet
again, and his face was holding an expression the Japanese man had never seen
in it from before.

"There were a million times it could have happened," Yuu replied just
as softly.

"It didn't, though," the redhead countered, "And if it was just
an indulgence, then why do you care that I died in your dreams? Why does it
upset you so much?"

"It wasn't like that for me," Yuu admitted, looking away. "It
started as meaningless, it meant nothing because it was a way for me to hide
the truth, but somehow, at some point, it stopped meaning nothing. You kept
saying it meant nothing, so I pretended I felt the same. Maybe I should have
told you the truth so we could have ended it, then maybe I wouldn't still be
feeling like this!" He was shouting again, gripping the redhead's shirt
collar in his fists.

"I don't understand," Lavi whispered, "You still feel like this?
Even after all these years? Is that why you were so mean to me?"

Yuu spluttered, gaping at the man in front of him. Mean? He had been
fucking pissed at the idiot rabbit. "What do you think, Baka? Of
course!"

Lavi reached up, fisting his hands in the Japanese man's long, dark hair, and
yanked the man down, pushing him over until the redhead was sitting on Yuu's
stomach. The older man went down without a fight, too shocked at the sudden
movement, his hands still locked on Lavi's collar. Their lips melded together,
sending a fiery spark all through Yuu's body. It was hard and purposeful,
different in some way from previous embraces, but it still managed to feel right.
He tried to push the other man away, but Lavi held fast, and suddenly, Yuu
didn't want to stop anymore. He had spent so many years wanting--craving--this
contact that all he could do was just let it happen.

Swift, nimble hands painted tantalyzing patterns at his waistline, edging under
his loose-fitting shirt with all the grace of a painter. They spread hot,
tingling patterns up his stomach as they traveled to his chest, intent on
making his breath hitch as they touched the sensitive spot beneath his tattoo.
Yuu broke the kiss to gasp wildly as Lavi's hands traced the inky pattern on
their upward trail to his nipple. It wasn't right, though. He couldn't just sit
there and do nothing. So he disentangled his hands from the fabric at Lavi's
neck and tugged the entire garment upward. The second after the shirt was off,
the redhead leaned forward and put his head to Yuu's chest, lightly sucking
where his fingers had just been. Yuu gasped again, hands scratching
unintentionally at the other man's back, because the sensations were so
familiar and so wonderful that all his rational thoughts had flown right out of
his head.

As Lavi moved back to Yuu's face, kissing cheeks and nose and forehead and ears
and everywhere except where was most important, the Japanese man removed his
hands from the redhead's back and fumbled like a virgin with the fastenings of
the other man's pants. Lavi groaned and moved down to Yuu's neck, sucking softly
at his pulse point, where he would no doubt leave a flaming red mark. Red, Lavi
had once said, because it matched his hair. Yuu had hit him for that. Dancing
fingers fluttered at his waistline, and then he was struggling out of his own
pants and the shirt was coming off his head.

Their lips connected again in a fierce kiss that made Yuu feel as if breathing
was unnecessary, a trivial indulgence that he could ignore for the time being.
He tugged at the redhead's earring and got a needy whimper in response. He
smirked against the mouth that was still moving with his own, and when the
other man nibbled a bit too hard on his lower lip, he hissed and opened his
mouth. The dark-haired man had forgotten how wet tongues were. He'd
forgotten a lot of things though, like the feel of Lavi's hands running through
his hair, tangling and catching on tangles, the distinct smell of fire and ink
and just a little bit of hickory, and he had forgotten the wonderful heat of
flesh against flesh. Why was remembering these feelings so painful? Why was
something he had missed and wanted so painful to have back? The ache returned
to his chest, the one he had tried so hard to rid himself of. Maybe it was the
knowledge that this could end the same way it had so many years ago. He wasn't
going to let it end the same way, though, this was going to either end things
forever or it was going to pick up where it had left off.

A tear forged a path down his cheek, but he held it in check, ensuring that no
others followed. Lavi pressed down on him, touching aching flesh to aching
flesh, and Yuu rolled his hips, satisfied at the rabbit's loud moan, somewhat
distracted from the present turmoil his emotions were in. They were confusing
in the fact that he wanted this more than anything, but he hated the way he
still felt betrayed, the loneliness still ate at him like acid and deep down he
knew once this was over it would return tenfold. So he pushed it all from his
mind and focused on the present, ignoring all but the most pressing emotions.

Running his hands up and down Lavi's chest, he felt the shift in body position
as the redhead rubbed against him, crying out in a high-pitched moan at the
sensation overload. Sweat slicked their skin as Lavi bowed his head for another
long, searing kiss, one Yuu returned with vigor. He ran his hands through
Lavi's hair, loving the moans as he forced his fingers through tangles that
shouldn't have been there. Lavi rocked down on him again, and Yuu rolled
forward, aching for more friction. He didn't mind when the redhead pulled back,
face filled with frustration, and took hold of his arousal, touching it in ways
that Yuu could just barely remember. He groaned and hissed as the calluses
created the friction he saught, and he gritted his teeth when Lavi replaced his
hands with his mouth.

The Japanese man didn't mean to push his hips forward, gagging his former
lover, but the stupid rabbit pulled back anyway, coughing and spluttering. Yuu
took his distraction to move so that he was on top--like hell he would be dominated,
especially after so long--and so that Lavi was the one writhing beneath him,
making pretty little whimpers of complete submission while still groping and
kissing and being completely unfair with that lusty look on his face. His good
eye was half-hooded, and though the other one, covered in an eye patch for so
long, seemed unable to move, the expression was in no way marred by its
stationary position. Lavi's mouth was open as he gasped wildly for air, and the
groan that overtook him when Yuu flicked his finger over the head of his
erection, brought a pang to the older man's heart. The ache was back, stronger
than before, and it wouldn't be banished as easily. He covered it by engaging
Lavi in a hot, wet kiss that was both shallow and very, very brief. Then he was
concentrating on rubbing that one spot that always made Lavi moan--yes, there
it was, ripped from the idiot's throat--as he ran his other hand up and down
the man's chest. He tweaked a nipple and then moved down, outlining the
bellybutton before moving to the back, cupping the man's ass.

Lavi squeaked. Yuu did nothing more than remove his hand, concentrating on
grabbing the oil he had left on his nightstand to clean his boots. The
viscous liquid went everywhere, but it covered his hand, and there was still
much to spare, and that was all that mattered. He moved his hand back to the
curve of Lavi's backside. The redhead's eye widened as he realized what was
happening, and he shuddered as the dark-haired man spread his legs and moved
his hand between them. It had been a long time since Yuu had done this, but
Lavi writhed a little bit, urging him to continue, and the older man figured he
hadn't lost his touch. The ache intensified to the point that he could barely
ignore it. Another tear fell down his face as he inched a second finger into
the man below him.

He would not admit to the pain, not even when Lavi's eye opened, resulting in a
confused and alarmed look, not even when the redhead sat up, caressing his
cheek and wiping away the wayward tear. That action just made his chest clench
tighter. It hurt, it hurt. So he pushed his fingers deeper, and Lavi yelped as
he hit the other man's prostate. He added a third finger, and the rabbit's face
clenched up in discomfort. Yuu didn't like that, it made the ache even more
pronounced, so he abandoned Lavi's erection with his left hand, moving it up so
that he could smooth the man's hair, pull his hand down the man's face and neck
and lay it flat on Lavi's chest. It was an intimite gesture, one that Lavi
returned by sweeping his caressing hand back into Yuu's hair, clenching it
there as if securing himself.

Yuu couldn't do this. It hurt so much. Bitterness and loneliness, betrayal and
duplicity, combined with the musk that was distinctly Lavi and the hint
of hickory and the fucking ink and paper and fire all surrounded him in a
cocoon of loss and maybe love. It swirled and whorled, dizzying him as he
reazlied just whose ass he had his hand up and that this would not solve a
thing. Lavi was still lost, was still Bookman, and nothing Yuu did would change
that. He had lost him six years ago, and no act, physical or otherwise, was
going to bring him back. He backed away, Lavi groaning with the lack of
stimulation in a way that almost made him return, grunt an apology, say that he
wasn't going anywhere and that he just wanted the rabbit to get a taste of what
he had done to him, but no. He couldn't. He had to get out, had to get away,
because tears were falling down his face again. He needed to leave. Loss and
pain and betrayal. He couldn't hold on to embers of a fire that had long since
died, a fire that had never been real. Ache and pain and hopelessness. Lavi had
left him. There was no clearer fact. It was bared naked for the world to see,
much like he was as he made to get off the bed. He couldn't do this.
Because if he did, he wouldn't come out of it. Lenalee had told Lavi that the
redhead had torn him apart. No, Lavi hadn't done such a thing. But he was about
to.

A hand shot, lightning-fast, around his wrist, delaying his retreat. Yuu tried
to shake it off, but Lavi wouldn't budge--he just pulled, and all of a sudden,
Yuu was on top of him, and then the man rolled, and then the world restricted
as Lavi sat on him. His face was pained, as if he hadn't been quite
prepared, but Yuu had never before seen such a glorious sight. Sweat plastered
dark, wet hair to the man's scalp, creating a halo of the deepest red over
scarred or squinting eyes. A droplet of that same sweat fell in slow motion
from the tip of Lavi's nose to the middle of Yuu's chest. His head tilted back
as he pushed up and then back down, and Yuu's world narrowed.

"Tight," he hissed, though he knew not which language nor how
loud. Lavi whimpered in response. Yuu bucked his hips. Everything was hot and
sweaty and ethereal. Lavi did that thing where he threw his head back in
euphoria, a moan tearing its way from the man's kiss-swollen lips.

"Fuck," Lavi groaned, "Schei�e."

Vaguely, Yuu recognized the German, having been in close quarters with Marie--who
was Austrian--and his German strumpet, Miranda. But he didn't care, because he
moved his hands to Lavi's shoulders, then ran them down the man's strong,
muscled arms, finally stopping them with a firm grip on Lavi's hips. He thrust
upward, and Lavi thrust downward, and they tangled in an erotic dance that
pushed them both to the limits. Moans, whimpers, hisses, and curses littered
the air with no regard for the neighbors or the hosts. Everything was hot and
wonderful and good, even though the ache persisted and grew with each passing
second. Tears poured down Yuu's face. He wouldn't break, not anymore, but he
would hurt. But if he was going to hurt, then goddammit, so was Lavi. He leaned
up a bit, changed the angle of his thrusts, and Lavi cried out, tangling his
hands in Yuu's hair and pulling. The Japanese man hit that spot again, again,
and once more until the redhead shuddered around him. And then it was too much,
and he was screaming, and Lavi was screaming, too, and everything was hot and
sweaty and oh, so good, and then there was release and everything went quiet.

They both panted and held each other, their breaths mingling as Lavi put his
head next to Yuu's. The redhead's mouth descended on his in a sweet kiss that
defied everything Yuu had known about their relationship. Indulgence, he told
himself, but he wasn't quite sure he believed it. Lavi shifted upward and
kissed every tear away, nuzzled his way down the messy, dirty tracks they'd
made, and ended up snuggling into his throat. His head rested in the junction
of the Japanese man's neck and shoulder, and the man's breathing evened out.
Yuu found it relaxing, and despite the fact that it was stupid and they were
dirty, he fell asleep to the metronomic sound of Lavi's breaths.

---

It was the sun that woke him, just as it always did. The warm body in his arms
shifted as Yuu realized that it hadn't been a dream. Sighing and ignoring the
growing throb in his chest, Yuu threw off the covers and readied himself for
the day. He didn't want to confront what would most likely be the most awkward
scene since the first night he and Lavi had been intimate with each other, so
he grabbed his sword, closed the door behind him, and sat almost primly at the
breakfast table. Lenalee shot him strange, knowing looks, and Moyashi
gave him glares that promised revenge for lost sleep. Yuu pretended not to see
them, and the Chinese woman's questions eventually died the longer he stayed
silent.

The relationship had never meant anything, and even though Lavi was saying it
had, Yuu knew the truth. Indulgence. He just had to keep telling himself that,
because it made the ache lessen. It made him feel like he was able to shoot a
tiny, feeble smile at Lenalee as he thanked her for breakfast. Walking out the
door, Yuu knew he would never look back, not again. Lavi was Bookman, and
Bookmen didn't do anything, relationship-wise, but relieve tension. That was
what last night had been. Even if it had felt like so much more. Yuu also knew
that Bookman was leaving within a day or two, so chances were no awkward talks
would come about before the man was gone from his life forever.

He didn't understand why that thought made the hurt return to his chest,
stronger and more powerful than he'd ever felt it.

Taking the Underground had merits, Yuu supposed, when all he wanted was to sit
and drown in the pain that was engulfing his heart. On the other hand,
rank-smelling hobos and loud, chattering businessmen made it hard to
concentrate on more than the merest edge of his misery. It grated on his
nerves, much like Lavi's useless chatter once had. The pain spiked for a
moment, then dulled.

Before he could become completely consumed by his thoughts, the train arrived
at its destination. After walking down the crowded streets of Camden for a few
hours, Yuu decided to take a detour through Regent's Park. The calm trees and
the light breeze helped relieve Yuu of the discomfort plaguing his chest, he
allowed himself to relax slightly, taking in the peaceful surroundings.

Suddenly, everything disappeared into darkness. The feel of hands over his eyes
sent an all too familiar shot of adrenaline though his veins as Mugen was
pulled from its scabbard.

There was an eeping noise as Yuu pressed the blade to his attacker's
throat. At the end of Yuu's blade was a tall, stocky brunette. He had his hands
up in a gesture of surrender, and he was stuttering out half-formed sentences
of what sounded like apology.

"I-I th-th-ought you were m-my w-wife! You look just like my Karou that
I--I'm sorry about that! Please, don't... hurt me." Lowering Mugen, Yuu
stared at the quivering man in a suit.

"Did you say Karou?" Yuu barely dared to hope that he had not
misheard the man.

Seeming to regain his composure with the lack of imminent danger, the brunette
nodded quickly.

"Yes, the resemblance between you two is striking. Wait... you wouldn't
happen to be Yuu, would you?" Nodding, Yuu continued to wait for the man
to explain.

The blue-eyed stranger smiled at Yuu's affirmative gesture and was suddenly
grasping at the Japanese-man's arm, pulling him roughly down the park's path.
As they exited the park from a different entrance than Yuu had come from, he
barely had time to see which streets they were passing, not until they turned
onto one a few blocks away. Balcombe Street. If this truly was Kaoru's husband,
then he had best remember the street name. He was pulled rather roughly into a
small apartment.

"Horace, what are you doing back so soon? You said you had work." A
high, familiar voice rang out from the kitchen at their entrance.

"Dear, would you come out here for a moment? I've found something that may
intest you greatly." Horace, as Yuu was sure to remember, replied sweetly.

An irritated sigh lofted out from the small adjacent room. It was soon followed
by a woman a few years older than Yuu, her long, black hair swept up in a neat
bun. She was tall and slender, and when their eyes met, they were of the same
charcoal gray as Yuu's own. Upon taking in the sight at her door, the woman,
his sister, froze in disbelief.

"Yuu-chan?" She asked, rushing forward and grabbing him by his
shoulders. Yuu could do little more than stare, and then he let the corners of
his mouth twitch upward into the small smile he had reserved for her. She gave
him a bright smile that outshone his own before pulling him in for a tight hug.
He slipped his hands around her waist, still shocked that he had found her at
all.

A small slap on his shoulder broke the moment, and when he pulled back, Yuu saw
his sister's scowl aimed at him.

"Why did you never reply to my letters?" She demanded angrily,
placing her thin, feminine hands on her hips.

"Letters?" Yuu asked blankly, blinking as he tried to recall ever
getting mail. His expression darkened. "Komui is going to die," he
hissed, resisting the urge to brandish his weapon once more. He didn't think
his sister would like that.

"I sent them every two weeks since you were... brought to the Order."
Her voice was tart, and Yuu understood at once her opinion of the institution
that had stolen him from his home because he barely accomodated a piece of
Innocence and had then spent the next three years running tests on him until he
could synch at a very high rate. Second Exorcist, they'd called him, though he
was the only one to live through it all. Because of his sister.

"I never received any," Yuu replied, a steely edge to his tone. He
was just as angry as her. True, most Exorcists did not receive mail, but that
was because most of them didn't have family, having been taken at a young age.
Yuu had, though, and even during his days in the Asian Branch, he had never
received more than a few packages containing his uniforms.

His long Exorcist jacket--he had not abandoned it, as it held great protection
against the elements and was therefore suitable for travelers such as
himself--shifted, almost as if it was being tugged. Yuu looked down and saw a
tiny girl with her hand clenching the fabric around his left knee. She was
looking up at him with wide, innocent dark gray eyes. She looked like a lost
puppy as she tugged once more at his coat.

"Marie," Kaoru said, her voice softening in a way Yuu had never heard
before. It reminded him a little of the way she used to talk to him, but it was
different... more protective, almost. "Meet your uncle, Yuu. He's been out
of town for a very long time, so this is the first time he's been able to
visit. Say hello, won't you?"

"Hello," the little girl said, her voice a high, timid soprano. It
quivered slightly, as if she was nervous, even though she was still holding
tightly onto his jacket. Bending down, Yuu picked her up, though he was quite
at a loss at what to do next. He stared beseechingly at his sister. She
laughed, the sound of sweet, chiming bells, and stepped closer, taking the
child into her own arms.

"Yuu-chan, meet my daughter, Marie."

Yuu tensed at the endearment, and the ache that he had suppressed returned. It
was dull, nothing like it had been the previous night, but the conflicting
emotions--the betrayal, the hurt, the distrust--must have shown on his face,
because Kaoru's expression changed.

"What's wrong?" She asked, sounding a little bit like Lenalee when
she was worried.

"Don't call me that," the long-haired man mumbled, looking away so
that his sister wouldn't see the pain in his face. The woman saw it anyway and
shifted so that she was in his line of vision again. The little girl in her
arms reached out, pulling at the two locks of hair that usually framed his
face. It reminded him so much of what Bookman had done the previous night to
initiate things that he gasped and stepped back, pain on his face as tears of
bitterness forced their way to his eyes. He refused to shed them, but they
shone anyway, emphasized by the light. He wanted to look away, but Marie was
still holding his hair in tight, insisting fists.

Kaoru gently extricated the toddler from his hair and set her on the ground,
nudging her back and telling her to go play with her father, who had gone into
another room to give them privacy. The girl tottered out, her pigtails swishing
as she made her retreat. The second she was gone, Kaoru was next to him,
putting a slim arm around his shoulder and pulling him close to her.

"Would you prefer Yuu-kun, or would you like to be addressed without an
honorific?" She asked softly, pulling her fingers through what little hair
he had left down in order to soothe the tangles the toddler had caused.

"The honorific is fine. I just don't... like the other one." His
sister nodded in understanding and motioned for him to sit on the small couch
in the living room.

Once they were seated Kaoru suddenly leaned forward and placed both her hands
on the sides of his face, simply looking at him.

"You look terrible, Brother. I can understand that war does horrible
things to a person, but you look like you haven't slept properly in
months."

"Years," Yuu corrected, earning him a concerned look.

"Just what happened to you?"

Had it been with any other person, Yuu would have scoffed and left the subject
well alone. But his sister was the only one he had ever been able to talk to.
She was his only family. So he began from the beginning, telling her about his
time at the Order, about Akuma, Innocence, and the experiments they had
performed on him. He told her about the battle with the Earl, about the Noah,
and about the other Exorcists. She liked hearing about his comrades. She noted
the fondness in his voice when he spoke about Lenalee, the annoyance when he
described Allen, and to his displeasure, the faltering as he spoke about Lavi.
He told her about how he had spent the last six years searching for any sign of
her and how his search had finally lead him to London.

When he concluded his tale, he met his sister's gaze and was shocked to see
tears flowing from her eyes.

"Yuu-kun, you had such a horrible life! You suffered so much, and it
appears that what I did to help you has hindered you as well."

"I don't understand. You saved my life by doing what you did. The Lotus is
the only reason I survived all the experiments. Everyone else died." He
didn't understand what she meant, but the tears were flowing even faster than
before.

"Yuu, the Lotus was supposed to heal your wounds, keep you alive, and it
did, but it wasn't meant to heal emotional and mental wounds. It kept you from
expressing your feelings because that is what would have kept you alive at the
time. I can see that now, you have so much pain, and something close to
betrayal behind your eyes. I think its time to release that, don't you? You
don't need the Lotus to keep you alive anymore."

Yuu wasn't sure that was what he wanted, but his sister was still crying, so he
nodded reluctantly. She smiled at him and patted his arm. At that moment, Marie
came bowling into the room, running as much as she was hobbling. She gave a
little tiny screaming giggle as her father--Horace, if Yuu recalled
correctly--followed her, his arms outstretched and his hands forming claws. The
girl jumped into Kaoru's lap, screeching and laughing as her father caught up
and began to tickle her mercilessly. Yuu resisted the urge to cover his ears.
It was his sister's child, after all.

"Will you stay with her for a bit, hon?" Kaoru asked as the girl's
screams calmed and she ran off yet again. Horace nodded and leaned in to kiss
his wife.

"How long will you be out?"

Kaoru hit his arm lightly. "Were you listening in?" She demanded in a
faux-stern voice, a fake scowl on her face. She gave up the expression a moment
later, laughing lightly. It reminded Yuu of the time he'd been with Lavi. That
thought hurt, so he stood up and left the room, headed for the front door. His
sister followed a moment later, donning a light coat.

They took the Underground back to the station near Lenalee's house, and they
walked slowly toward their destination, talking quietly about what Kaoru had
been doing in the years during their separation. It calmed Yuu to hear how well
and happy his sister was, so much so that he had almost forgotten about the
Bookman's presence until he ran into the man on their way in. Kaoru caught his
arm, steadying him, though Bookman had the misfortune of falling completely to
the ground. Yuu scoffed and stepped over the man, ignoring the pang in his
heart.

"Yuu-chan? What--?"

The Japanese man heard Bookman's footsteps following them in. He missed the
look of understanding his sister shot him, too eager to escape his former lover
than to pay attention to his surroundings.

He wasn't surprised to see both Lenalee and Allen at the table, both nursing
cups of tea, deep in conversation with Komui. The three at the table turned,
and their eyes widened at the same time as they took in the scene. Lenalee was
the first to make a move, standing and offering them seats.

"Yuu-kun, is this...?" The Chinese woman asked, and Yuu nodded.

"This is my sister Kaoru, Lenalee. Kaoru this is Lenalee, Allen, Komui,
and the man behind you is La--Bookman." He introduced the room's
occupants to his sister, pointing out each in turn, and cursed himself at his
slip.

His sister smiled politely at all of them and took a seat at the table,
thankfully between Yuu and Bookman.

There was an awkward silence as the group looked at each other. Lenalee kept
looking at him and then to Bookman and then back to Yuu. Allen was scowling at
him and then looking at Kaoru curiously. Komui was sipping his tea
contemplatively.

Lenalee stood up a few moments later, taking a loaf of bread out of the oven,
then bringing a plate of cookies over to the table.

"Would anyone like a cookie? Miss Kaoru, Allen, Lavi?" Yuu choked a
bit on his tea, but he managed to supress an outburst. Did Lenalee not realize
her mistake? How come no one else was looking at her, telling her that the
redhead wasn't Lavi anymore?

"Thanks Lenalee. You are one of the best cooks around," The redhead
said, as he winked at the blushing woman.

There was an outraged cough from Moyashi, "Oi, Lavi, that's my wife
you're flirting with."

Yuu saw the man in question lift his hands in a gesture of surrender,
"Sorry 'bout that, Bean Sprout, some habits never die."

The Japanese man was at a loss for words. Just what the fuck was going
on here? This went against everything Yuu had been trying to tell himself for
the past six years. It hurt his chest, too much. He couldn't deal with this,
not now, not when he was happy for the first time in years. Standing up, Yuu
walked quietly from the table, up the stairs, and into his room. A few moments
later, he was joined by his sister. He sat in his armchair as Kaoru walked over
to the hourglass on the desk.

"You've lost a lot of petals." The observation seemed to pain her,
and her hands trembled slightly as she reached into the glass container and
removed the tri-petaled flower. Her firm grasp echoed on his own skin in a
light, whispering breeze of a touch. The hairs on his arms stood on end as
goosebumps formed. Shivering involuntarily, he watched as his sister stared
almost forlornly at the weak-looking sham of what had once been a healthy,
pink-tinged lotus. Though the petals still looked healthy, the stem did not, as
if it was carrying a burden it couldn't hold on to much longer. Kaoru poked at
the tiny thing until a petal dislodged itself and fell to the floor. Making an
interested hum, the Japanese woman bent down and picked it up. Then she upset
the hourglass so that she could hold the other ten petals. She walked into the
kitchen. Yuu followed her, much like a dog would follow its owner, and watched
as she asked Lenalee if she had a fire going. Moyashi nodded and lead
her over to the hearth in the corner of the living room, which was separated
from the kitchen only by a change in flooring.

The second the flower hit the flames, pain rippled in his chest, originating on
his left breast and spreading out in iron-hot tendrils through the rest of his
body. Yuu screamed and fell to the floor as all the walls he'd built around his
emotions fell, spilling a torrent of raw pain and hate into his body, where it
mixed with the molten metal scouring his veins. Somewhere in the far reaches of
his brain, Yuu realized he was on Lenalee's living room floor, curled up in a
protective ball, screaming and sobbing with all the hurt and blame. He cracked
an eye open and saw red hair, and he tried to hit it, because it deserved to
hurt, it deserved to feel what he felt, it deserved to die, dammit! It
was his fault, it was Lavi's fault. Love and pain and tears all mixed together
as he screamed and screamed and screamed, and warm arms came around him. They
weren't his sister's, they were too sturdy, nor were they Moyashi's.
They weren't Lenalee's either, and he'd be damned if he ever let Komui touch
him, not that the man ever would.

Hands pulled themselves gently through his hair, taking out the ponytail and
releasing the inky black tresses down Yuu's back. A soft, sweet voice shushed
him, but he couldn't stop because every nerve ending was on fire. He said as
much, and a hand carded through his hair once more, rubbed his scalp in a
soothing pattern only Lavi knew. Yuu whimpered. He didn't want Lavi touching
him, not ever again. It had put him through too much. But he found himself
clinging anyway as reason died under the stress of the pain.

When his yells had died, replaced only with a small whine here or there,
tremors wracked his body in their stead. The tidal wave of agony had washed
through his body, and the small wavelets that followed it could do nothing to
compare to its intensity. Yuu's voice was gone, and by the time he became aware
of his surroundings, so was everyone else, save for the man who held him to his
chest with gentle but strong arms.

Yuu pushed himself back, wanting to escape Bookman's grip. He'd been down this
path before, and he knew he didn't trust the other man--not anymore. He sat on
the floor, unable to move farther away from the redhead. He looked at Bookman
and Bookman looked at him, niether looked away for a long moment.

Finally, Bookman sighed, averting his gaze from the furious Japanese man across
from him. "I'm sorry. I know that means nothing to you, seeing as you
won't believe me, but I'm sorry, and I'll explain why I did things the way I
did if you'll listen."

He couldn't scoff, nor could he reply with any indifferent words or gestures.
It was as if the wall guarding his emotions had been completely decimated, and
all he could say was what he felt. "I hate you." His voice was soft
and filled with a steely edge.

Bookman looked at him, his one-eyed gaze piercing. When he spoke, he sounded
defeated. "You have every right to." Yuu hadn't been expecting that.
His mouth was slightly slack, and he assumed his face said as much. "But
please, please, listen to me."

Yuu nodded, keeping his eyes away from the green stare that so often pulled him
in.

"I love you. I knew that since the time you were wounded on that one
mission and limped into the library to find me, even though you should
have--and for all intents and purposes would have--gone to Matron or to
your room. But instead, you sought me out, and we went up to the roof, and...
you remember the rest," Bookman finished awkwardly, shrugging. Yuu did
remember. That had been the first time he'd let Lavi take him. On the roof, in
the sunset, with just the faintest drizzle hitting his chest as Lavi had
brought him to the edges of ecstasy and back.

"For the longest time, I kept fighting with myself. I wasn't supposed to
be attached, but you all knew I was. You, Lenalee, Allen, the three of you made
it goddamn hard to stay objective. Especially you. It became hard to focus on
the battlefield, and I could never concentrate on the record when I was around
you. My logs became sloppy. Sometimes, they were similar to the ones I did when
I was eight or nine. They just reported the most obvious of facts, I missed key
details that I never should have skipped over. I tried to compensate for that,
and I got better. But then Bookman came to me and told me he was ill. He was so
old that I knew it was unlikely he would survive. I had to choose--but you know
that, obviously."

Yuu nodded, hating himself for understanding the asshole in front of him.

"I had to record the final bit of this war, you know that," Bookman
continued, his gaze very, very far away, "but when I looked into your eyes
right after Bookman passed... I couldn't do it. I wanted to throw everything
away and just grab you and hug you and tell you the Old Man was finally dead,
let's be together properly. I couldn't, though. It's my duty to record these
things, and it went doubly so for that war, seeing as it is the most important
historical event in the past three thousand years. But I couldn't keep my
relationship with you. I'd miss things, I'd be tempted to throw my career away,
just for you. So I walked away from you, and I sealed off my emotions."
Bookman laughed bitterly, then added, "I'm good at that."

"This doesn't change anything," Yuu said bitterly. He couldn't get
off the floor, though. It was as if he was glued there, rooted in place like a
very old tree. He was stuck. So was Bookman, it seemed.

"No," the redhead whispered. "But I'm not done yet. Please let
me finish.

"It became evident in the final year that I couldn't stop loving you. By
the end of it, I just wanted to see your smile again. Do you know how painful
it was, seeing you regress into a ghost of your former self? Do you know how
painful it was, watching you lose your smile?"

"Do you know how painful it was for me when you walked away?" Yuu
countered, unable to keep the note of bitterness out of his voice. Bookman
smiled wryly.

"I know I hurt you, and you have every right to be resentful, but I want
you to know I was going to ask you to come with me. I looked for you after the
battle, but you were gone. We'd all expected you to leave quickly, but we all
thought you'd be injured. When I couldn't find you, I thought you were dead."
Bookman's voice caught on the last word, almost as if he was overcome by
emotion or choking back tears. Yuu couldn't help but smile, even if it was a
cynical one.

"You deserve it," he muttered sourly.

"I do," Bookman admitted. There was a short pause as they both
reflected over what had just been said, and then the redhead continued. "I
traveled the world and recorded for five years, thinking you were dead, but
when I saw you at the caf�, I was so surprised, I slipped. I had to follow you,
to see how you were doing. You brought me to Lenalee. I can't do this anymore,
Yuu. I can't be objective anymore, not for you. You said last night that you
loved me and that you still felt the same way. I do too."

"I don't care," Yuu said, trying and failing to ignore the clenching
in his heart. "It was an indulgence, and it will never be anything
more."

"It was never an indulgence," Bookman exclaimed, leaning
forward so that their heads were only an inch or two apart. "That was what
I told myself--and consequently, you--so that I could justify what we were
doing. Bookmen don't care, Yuu, but I did. I cared from the very
beginning, and I know you did too."

"I find that hard to believe," Yuu said angrily. Bookman scowled at
him.

"I love you!" He yelled. "Why is that so hard to believe? Is it
'cause I never said it? I wasn't allowed to say it, and you never did either,
so don't try to pin this all on me. I love you, Yuu-chan, and I'm not allowing
you to run off again, not unless you well and truly hate me."

He wanted to believe it, he really did. But how could he ever trust him again?
How could he be sure that Bookman wouldn't leave again for the sake of keeping
his job? How could Yuu allow himself to feel again? He needed to respond, but
all the words were caught in his throat, they were fighting each other.
Conflicting feelings that never should have been there. I hate you, I love
you, you betrayed me, love, hate, pain, anger, sadness. All of them fought
inside his head, searching for escape. He did love Lavi still, despite
everything the idiot had done to him, he loved him, it felt good to think it,
but that thought was covered by the inescapable layer of pain that had grown
thicker with each passing year. Yet, somehow, hearing Lavi's reasons
face-to-face seemed to melt away some of it. As if knowing the reasons behind
the actions made it hurt less, made it so that maybe, on some small level, he
could forgive...

"I love you... but I can't trust you."

Bookman nodded and leaned forward. "Is it possible for me to earn it
again?" He asked. He sounded insecure, as if he wasn't sure how Yuu would
respond or how the rest of the night would play out. That fact in itself
evaporated the meltwater from the aching pain in his chest.

"I don't know," Yuu said, looking away. "I just found my sister,
and I don't want to leave just yet, but I know that it would be over the second
you set foot out of this house for your next assignment. I... don't want it to
be over."

Bookman reached out a hand and placed it lightly on the Japanese man's chin,
guiding it back so that they were face-to-face. "That implies that I can
get it back. I don't care how long it takes. I don't have another assignment,
and I won't for weeks--months, maybe. I won't leave you again. It hurts too
much."

Yuu didn't know what to say. There was nothing to say. He let Bookman
edge closer and guide his head so that their noses wouldn't bump. The kiss was
sweet and short and filled with something that Yuu identified as hope. The
contact wasn't urgent, as if they were constructing something new over the
ruins of their previous relationship. A new beginning, that was what this was,
and they both knew it. Yuu found himself leaning into the other man, and
Bookman responded by bringing his hands to the Japanese man's biceps. They let
their foreheads touch.

"What do I call you?" Yuu asked.

"Lavi," Bookman said, and Yuu nodded. It was indeed a new beginning.

----

A/N: And that's it! ^_^ Te Amo, which was in the first part, means my love in Latin. As for any other notes, I don't think we really
have anything to say, except that this was fun to write, and we really didn't
mean for it to come out this angsty, but it kinda... did. :/
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Mea Culpa