A/N: This is, yes, getting to be a bad habit. So. Yet another story in which everyone dies. And a much longer one this time.

Title: Loose Ends

Author: liketolaugh

Rating: T

Pairings: Miranda/Marie

Genre: Tragedy

Warnings: Character death

Summary: After the end of the Holy War, CROW decides it no longer needs the exorcists. And CROW is nothing if not efficient. When a weapon is no longer needed - it gets put away.

Disclaimer: I only wish I owned D. Gray-man.

January 12, 1875 - London, England

Lenalee and Komui lived in London. Every day, Komui would ask her where she wanted to spend the day, and she would choose a street. Komui would drop her off with some money, and then go to work.

Today, she had chosen a street with a flower shop, and she smiled as she knelt down to smile at the witch hazel.

"Are you alright there, Miss Lee?"

Lenalee looked up and smiled at the shop owner - Denise Rosenquist - reassuringly. "I'm fine," she promised. Denise still looked worried; she was quite fond of Lenalee, who visited often, sometimes for hours at a time. "Can I buy some of these? I think they'd be nice to have at the house."

Denise smiled at her. "Of course you can." She reached down to help Lenalee stand. Lenalee's legs wobbled dangerously, and she couldn't quite hide her wince as pain shot up and down them. Denise didn't fail to notice this and sighed. "It's a shame, really, that you hurt your legs so badly. You're so beautiful."

Lenalee offered her a wan smile. "Life happens, Denise," she said fondly, a strange touch of wisdom in her eyes. With Denise's help, she made her way over to a stool, and sat down while Denise went back to gather a small bouquet of witch hazel for Lenalee while the girl looked through her purse for the appropriate amount.

It had taken some getting used to, not being able to do these things for herself. But in the eight months since she'd hurt her legs (fighting Sheryl, the bastard) and the two months since the war had ended, she'd settled into a routine.

The wheelchair, now sitting outside the door it couldn't fit through – Komui had designed it himself, to be as forgiving as possible, but… After spending so long flying faster than sound, it had taken some getting used to.

She was nineteen now, and by civilian standards, her life would be tough from here on out, made virtually unable to marry by the injuries to her legs. As far as Lenalee was concerned, though, she was just getting started.

"Here you go, Miss Lee."

Lenalee looked up and smiled at Denise. "Lenalee," she reminded the woman, and exchanged the bouquet for some pounds. "And thank you, Denise, these are lovely."

"It's nothing, Lenalee," Denise replied, tucking the money away. "Are you moving on now?"

Lenalee nodded thoughtfully, and, with the bouquet in one hand, she used the other to carefully lever herself up. Denise hurried to help her, and Lenalee replied with a grateful smile. "Yes, I think so. I was going to go get lunch."

Denise smiled at her. "Would you like some help getting there?" she offered.

Lenalee smiled brightly, violet eyes sparkling. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," Denise assured her, holding Lenalee's elbow as the girl clutched onto her shoulder. "Where do you want to go?"

Lenalee considered for a moment, shivering slightly in the cold winter air despite her thick coat, and Denise paused to close and lock the door behind her, marking it as closed for now. "How about Mr. Vereen's shop?" she asked, dropping into the chair and nodding to a small restaurant a few shops down.

"Then let's go," Denise smiled, and started to push the chair along, while Lenalee held the flowers in her lap. Behind them, a matched set of footprints and wheel treads left their mark in the snow.

Contented, Lenalee glanced around – and then she noticed something different. Three men, not far away, sitting at a table, two with black hair and one with blond. They weren't looking at her - there was, in fact, nothing at all to distinguish them, save the two dots on each of their foreheads.

CROW.

Her head tilted slightly. "Huh," she said softly.

Denise glanced down at her. "Lenalee?" she questioned concernedly.

Lenalee shook her head and looked away, her gaze falling to the flowers on her lap. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." What could CROW possibly be doing here?

Denise's concerned gaze lingered on her for a few more moments, but then she let it go and looked back to the front. "Almost there," she noted.

Lenalee glanced back up at the CROW again, unable to help herself; the CROW still made her tense, after all this time. She watched them as they stood, and turned toward her, and felt her heart skip a beat.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was nothing.

She turned her gaze away again.

"Denise," Lenalee said carefully, her heartbeat roaring in her ears. "I think I can make it from here."

Denise turned and gave her a startled look. "Huh?"

"I think I can make it from here," Lenalee repeated. She turned and gave Denise a serious look, the most serious look she could muster. "Go back to your shop, open it back up. If anyone asks, today was the first time I'd been there, and you helped me here because you're a nice person, but headed back because I said I could make it. Okay?"

"Lenalee? What's wrong?" Denise was squeezing her arm subconsciously, visibly anxious, eyes round and innocent teddy-bear brown.

"Go," Lenalee said firmly. Her eyes darted to the CROWs, and one stared back; his expression made her shiver more than the cold did. She could see spell strips just peeking out of their sleeves, and the almost imperceptible signs of the switchblades on their wrists.

Denise followed her gaze and paled. "Lenalee? Are you in trouble?" she asked urgently.

"Go," Lenalee hissed, reaching back to push her urgently. "Trust me, you can't help. Just follow my instructions, okay?" She paused to give Denise a reassuring, if weak, smile. "You'll be fine."

Denise stared at her for few seconds, worried, but then, finally, nodded once, let go of the handles, and stepped back. Lenalee took hold of the rims, and Denise turned around and hurried back to her shop, shooting a few anxious looks back to Lenalee.

Lenalee took a deep breath, steeled herself, and pushed forward, considering the sting at her ankles and the gazes burning into the side of her head. Would it be worth it? Should she…?

Then one of them approached her, and the other two disappeared. The man in front of her, with black hair and green eyes, met her gaze as she tipped her head back to look up at him, and it was clear that there would be no playing around.

Sure enough, two steps later, she was pulled out of her wheelchair and into the alley, and she gasped out, despite half-expecting it. The witch hazel fell from her lap and scattered across the mouth of the alley, bright against the cold white snow, while she stumbled against the wall, legs trembling.

With a thought, she tried to activate her boots, but it was too late - two long ribbons of Binding Wing spell strips wound around her legs, and she fell to her knees with a cry. A second later, her hands were bound behind her back.

"Lenalee Lee," the CROW who'd stopped her said, arms crossed and eyes vicious. "Combat exorcist, thirteen years of experience, 97% synchro. High risk."

Lenalee lifted her head to glare at them, violet eyes flashing. "What do you want?" she demanded, voice bitter and one step short of loud. "We're done! We won! It's over!"

"The apostles are too dangerous to have among normal humans," the second, with black hair and brown eyes, explained, not looking at her.

The third flicked his switchblade open, and her eyes widened. "Don't scream," he warned, blond hair with brown eyes. "Anyone who comes running will have to die, too."

Lenalee swallowed, and struggled to stand up. But it was hard enough without the weight of the binding seal, and she failed, knees planted in the inches-deep snow, and glared up at them, but daren't say a word too loud - Denise would come running for sure.

"You're despicable," she hissed instead, long-held hatred bubbling up and spilling from her lips. "Who have you killed already? How many of my friends, you bastards?"

"None yet," the third replied. He reached forward and pulled her red scarf down, casting it aside while she flinched away. He batted aside her reaching hand, and in a flash, his knife plunged forward, and Lenalee felt it slice across her throat.

She gasped and choked, eyes widening, blood pouring down into her lungs. She coughed, couldn't breathe, couldn't get any air at all. A low buzz rang in her ears, and her vision was darkening already, black eating the edges away. Her hand twitched as if to try and cover the wound, but a tug at her wrist stopped her short.

"We'll have to get her brother too," the third said to the first, while he sheathed his dirtied blade. "I am certain he'll have means of contacting the rest of the apostles, and they cannot know we are coming."

"I'll get him," said the first with a curt nod, turning to leave.

Lenalee gasped, eyes struggling to close, and tried to stand again. She failed, of course, and then she was on the ground, struggling to breathe, drowning in her own blood, cheek pressed against the icy-cold snow, hands still bound behind her back.

"Brother," she tried to say, but couldn't get the breath. Her vision had gone grayscale, and it was darkening by the moment. She could see the end of her scarf less than a foot away, and the stain creeping toward it.

The second knelt in front of her, looked at her with unreadable dark eyes.

"Don't bother," he said quietly. "You're already dead, apostle."

Her brother. Her friends. She had to warn them.

"You will be rewarded in Heaven."

She couldn't move.

"But you can't stay here."

She couldn't sit up.

"It is God's will."

She couldn't feel anything, or see, and even her hearing was drifting away, sounds becoming more and more distant.

Allen, Lavi, Kanda... Miranda, Marie… Krory… Everyone… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…

She felt so cold.

Brother…

An hour later, a worried Denise came looking for Lenalee. She found her in the alley, throat slit in snow dyed red, and screamed.

And so the first one dies. By the way, this stands as a prequel for Cosmic Composite, a reincarnation crossover with Marvel, but for obvious reasons it also stands alone. Thanks for reading, and please review!

Edited 9/26/19 - I don't remember what my problem with giving Lenalee a wheelchair was before, but I've gotten over it. Not that it did her much good. Also, largely spurred on by rukaiki's fanart of a theoretical scene, which was great. Also added some details for mood and setting; I'll probably work on the rest of this story too.