A/N: Hello all! ^_^ Well, this is my first fanfic posting in a looong time after taking down the few that I had written about a year ago. This story is about a favorite character of mine from the game Xenosaga (which I unfortunately do not own), who I also understand is disliked by many fans of the same game. I couldn't help but commiserate with the down-on-his-luck Allen Ridgeley, and be slightly angered that the game designers had gone so far in making him an object of ridicule (I'm thinking of a certain bathing suit so horrifying…I shudder to think of it.).

            However, they also made it a point to show his loyalty in the face of adversity, bravery (fighting off the Gnosis on the Woglinde, entering the Encephalon, following Shion into "the very depths of hell"), as well as an unrequited love that manages to remain pure and intact despite the lack of reciprocation he receives.

            Aside from his whining and on-the-surface lack of help, I still find Allen to be admirable and a perfect empathetic source for all of us who, at one time or another, have looked love in the face only to find a cherished friend…and one who is unlikely to return the feeling at that.

Ok, Chibi Allen, get out here to do my disclaimer! Methinks the audience has had enough of my rambling while still not getting to the story. . .

            *Chibi Allen pops up*

Allen: Chief? Did you call me? Ack! Who are you?

Me: You're number 1 fan! Now make my disclaimer so I can get on with my story!!

Allen: *sweatdrops* Um, whatever…Uh, midnightoasis doesn't own Xenosaga, its plot, or its characters, and any usage thereof is simply in tribute blah blah. And she doesn't own me. Hey wait a sec! That means I don't have to do this disclaimer! Damn, you're making me miss Mystery Science Theater 10,000 you jerk!

            *chucks odd food substance at author and leaves*

Me: *dodges the lobbed curry* He'll be back. In the end, they always come back! ^_^

Anyways, on with the show! Er, fic!

The Glass is Half Empty: The Life of Allen Ridgeley

                                    Chapter 1: Waiting on an angel

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            Waiting on an angel.

            One to carry me home.

            Hope you come to see me soon,

            cause I don't want to go alone,

            I don't want to go alone.

            ~Ben Harper, Waiting on an Angel

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            "Hey! Hurry it up with that coffee, boy! We're getting' thirsty in here!" A loud, rough voice boomed over the intercom as a lanky young man splashed coffee into several waiting thermoses.

            "Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses," he mumbled to himself and raked a hand tiredly through his short brown hair. He sighed and resumed his task.

            As he tried to stifle a yawn, he spilled some of the hot coffee on his hand and let out a yelp. "Dammit!" Rushing to the sink, he poured cold water on his burns, hissing air between his teeth in a sharp inhalation as the water made contact with his reddened flesh. He could already see the hand starting to swell.

            Grimacing, he capped the last thermos, gathered all four up, and rushed out the door of the kitchen to head towards the bridge.

            As he made his way into the room where the captain and his crew were not-so-patiently waiting, Allen winced at the yelled complaints of Matthews and bit back any comments of his own.

            "Geez, kid! What took ya so long?!" Captain Matthews hopped down from where he had been perched on his seat to flip off his red cap, run a hand across his sweaty brow, and sling the hat back on.

            "I'm sorry I'm late, it's just that I burned…Whoa!!" The young man tripped on a cord that had been lying across the floor, falling flat on his face and sending the contents of the thermoses he was carrying splattering everywhere.

            Another young man with glasses and rather spiky hair let out a giggle. "Heh, sorry bout that," he said, gesturing to the cord, while the blond pilot began to groan about the lost coffee.

            The unfortunate young brunette pushed himself to his feet, looking at the enormous brown stain that now graced the front of his uniform's jacket, and he bit back the frustrated tears that threatened to escape from the corners of his eyes. Matthews walked up to him and got in his face.

            "What in the hell was THAT?! All ya had to do was carry the friggin' coffee…even a Suzie like you should be able to pull that off! But no! You make this big mess, waste MY coffee, and now I'm gonna be crankier than a neutered dog when the bitches are in heat!"

            "I-I…" The young man stared at the floor, his large blue eyes growing wide and glassy.

            A boy with a shock of unruly silver hair calmly placed one gloved hand on the seething captain's arm in a soothing restraint.

            "Come on, captain. It was just an accident. Here, I'll go get your coffee myself," he said, picking up an errant thermos that had rolled into his foot. "No harm done." The captain's face softened somewhat.

            "Aw, alright, chaos. But you," he pointed at the pair of brimming blue eyes, "had better get this cleaned up pronto!" He scowled as he heard snickering in the background. "And since Hammer here is so amused by the situation, he'll help ya!" He walked back to his seat, cursing as he slid in a puddle of rapidly cooling coffee.

            The snickering stopped abruptly. Hammer, the man with the glasses and spiked hair, jumped up and held out his hands plaintively. "C'mon, captain! Why should I help clean up 'cause he's such a klutz?"

            "Because I said so. Besides, who do you think the moron is that left that nav cable he tripped on lyin' in the middle of the damn floor?" This time the laughter came from the pilot. Hammer made a face at him.

            "Shut up, Tony."

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            As the unlucky young man made his way to the showers (after spending half an hour cleaning while Hammer harped on about how clumsy and useless he was), he heard someone behind him cry out, "Hey, you! Wait up!" It was Tony.

            "Hey, uh, since your uniform's kinda…out of commission for the moment, you can borrow some of my clothes. They're in the closet by my bunk."

            The other blinked his eyes confusedly. "Uh, thanks…I guess."

            Tony shrugged. "Forget about it. You look like it's been rough for you lately, so I figure a little friendly gesture won't hurt. Plus," he whispered conspiratorially at the confused young man, "It might even help me score some points with that Shion chick if you know what I mean."

            He resisted the urge to strangle and utterly maim the cocky pilot as he mutely nodded his head and turned away.

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            Allen Ridgeley lay back on his mattress, hair still damp and dripping on the dark blue shirt he had borrowed from Tony's rather extensive wardrobe. Who'd have thought that a guy would have so many clothes?

            The scalding water of the shower had managed to diffuse most of his anger, the renewed pain of his burned hand allowing him to focus through the embarrassment and humiliation that seemed to be constants in the typical Allen Ridgeley day.

            He closed his eyes and let out a sigh before smiling bitterly. Once again, they hadn't called him by his name. He wasn't sure anymore whether this was just some cruel joke on their part or if he was truly such an unremarkable, forgettable person.

            Today it was coffee. The day before, he'd fought with Hammer, who'd claimed that he never pulled his weight on board the Elsa. Complaining about my complaining…How ironic, Allen thought with a wry smile.

            How could Hammer say that he did nothing? Who did almost all of the cleaning on the ship? Who cooked for everyone when Shion was too exhausted from the team's excursions? Who was constantly running back and forth with little errands? And who always restocked their basic supplies at every stop without any recognition or thanks? He did. Allen Lawrence Ridgeley, that's who.

            He put a hand over his eyes and groaned at the simultaneous waves of nausea and nostalgia that rolled through him. Are you there now? He thought. Are you there like you promised…watching over me like a guardian angel? I could use a little guidance, and I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of getting used and pushed around…

            It was just like before…

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Well, now. There's chapter one. *phew* Hardest part is getting up the nerve to post the beginning…Oh, by the way, a lot of the beginning does not mention Allen's name to start with. . .I just though it'd add to him feeling like just another nameless face walking around.

I expect there will be some flames, but I would prefer if they refrained from mere Allen-bashing and helped me refine my writing instead. =P pretty please!

^_^ Oy, Allen! Get out here and say hello to the nice people.

*Chibi Allen pops out of thin air in a poof of smoke*

Allen: *looks at author* Oh, no…not again!

Me: *sigh* ~_~ just thank the readers for their time.

Allen: Where am I? What happened to the Elsa?! I was gonna make muffins!! *_*

Me: o_O More than I needed to know. I still luv ya though! Anyway, thanks to everyone who's read this! I appreciate it, along with any feedback in your reviews!

As for requests in the story, I just wanna let ya know it's gonna focus mainly on my man Allen here. *points at Allen*

Allen: Hey, are you stalking me?

Um…that's a whole different story. Ahem, well the immediate events are about his background mostly, but any suggestions will go into my plot box for future developments! Thanks for your time!