Hello, people! This is my first DGM fanfic and I hope you'll enjoy it. Just a warning, the characters will be OOC but that's necessary in order to fit them into the plot. There aren't any definite pairings but there will be lots of mentions of different ones, because I ship Allen with just about everyone. Anyways, enough with my babbling. Let's get on with the story.
Dead Aren't Us
Allen stuffed another piece of candy into his mouth.
Normally, Allen's house would always be devoid of any and all candy because his overprotective uncle, Neah, was convinced that eating candy would give him cavities, but these had been snuck into his house by Road, who had a way of getting away with just about everything. The reason for Road getting him candies was that she wanted to offer her condolences to him for the death of his godfather, Cross Marian.
Allen's godfather, Cross Marian, had supposedly died in an explosion somewhere in Japan. For the longest time, Allen had been convinced that Cross was immortal but that incident had proved him wrong. Well, Allen still had his suspicions about that bastard's death but he never questioned it too much. After all, why question good fortune? You should never look a gift horse in the mouth.
Although Allen had not really been that upset by the situation, he had all too eagerly accepted the candies brought by Road. The reason for this was obvious to anyone who knew him, Allen was a sucker for food.
Currently, Allen was eating candy and moping(which, by the way, was another way to spell 'rejoicing' in his dictionary) over the death of his guardian while watching the news of a murder on the TV.
Usually, Allen did not like to watch the news, but this one was an exception. After all, the murder of that man had been committed by Allen himself. The reason why he was bothering to watch his funeral on the television was because Allen had this really sadistic sense of humor. For some reason, he really liked to watch the reactions of his victim's family members. It was not that he particularly enjoyed killing but he felt inclined to watch the reactions of the family.
Just as things were getting interesting with the family members creating fuss in the funeral parlor(or it may have just been the taste of that particular candy), Allen's doorbell rang three times.
Allen's first thought was, The devil's here to get me.
And then it was quickly replaced by, But Cross is supposed to be dead!
And finally, Might as well open the door.
Cautiously, Allen got up and made his way to the door. When he was halfway through, he suddenly stopped, plopped another candy into his mouth, and then resumed. When Allen had finally got to the door, he was wishing that he had brought some more candies with him, because if it really was who he thought it was, then he would need a lot of them to deal with it.
[ Allen really wished he had taken up Jasdevi's offer on the drug candies. It would have made his life so much easier. ]
Allen contemplated for a while whether to rush back and get the candies, but then decided against it. Whoever was outside was probably already getting sick of waiting. He probably would not appreciate being kept waiting for much longer.
Taking a deep breath, Allen slowly, slowly turned the handle and peered outside.
As soon as he saw who was outside, he shut the door back again.
Zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada. No, he was not going to believe it. Sure, he might have seen it with his own eyes, but the eyes played tricks on you all the time, didn't they?
"Oi, brat! Open the fucking door!" a voice came from outside.
Slowly, Allen opened the door, hoping that it had all been his imagination. Apparently not. Reality sucked.
"Nope, this is not true. This is just my imagination. You are not here. You are dead." And with that, Allen once again shut the door on the hoping-to-be-imaginary-but-probably-not Cross Marian.
"Idiot apprentice, if you don't open the fucking door in five seconds-"
Before Cross could finish, Allen opened the door. He fixed Cross with a stare.
"You. Are. Dead." He said, pronouncing each word slowly, as if he was speaking to a child.
"Do I look fucking dead to you?" Cross thundered, fixing him with an all-too-familiar glare, "Has your brain filled with even more shit while I was gone? The heck Neah spoils a brat like you so much, I'll never know."
Allen took a deep breath.
Well, that was it. Cross was alive, kicking and cursing just as much as before. He should have known that it was too good to be true. He should have known that God would never let him live a happy life. He would always be stuck with Cross fuckin' Marian, the devil of all devils.
Allen sighed. Oh well, I suspected it anyway, so might as well accept it. Besides, even if it was my imagination, I don't think I would ever have imagined him being back. Fuck my life.
"Oi, filthy brat, are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna welcome me in? No hugs? No 'oh hey, welcome back from the dead' ?"
Allen gave him an incredulous look. He curled his fist and, before Cross even knew what was happening, Allen's fist had landed on his face.
Allen wanted to say a lot of things to Cross, such as 'why the fuck can't you just leave me alone?' and 'can't you just let me die in peace?' but in the end, he just settled for this:
"Oh hey, welcome back from the dead."
Cross muttered a string of curses and for a moment, looked like he was very much tempted to kick Allen where it hurt. Allen immediately braced himself for impact but it never came. What came instead was,
"You got any wine in there, idiot apprentice?"
Oh well, thought Allen, Even if the explosion didn't kill him, the amount of alcohol he takes certainly should.
Comforting himself with that thought, Allen led Cross into the house and straight to the kitchen cabinet, where he kept his emergency supply of alcohol. After all, you never knew when Cross decided to show up or when the twins wanted to throw a party.
Cross grabbed a bottle of wine and started chugging it down in full swoops. Allen took this moment to start questioning.
"Alright, explain. How the hell are you alive?" demanded Allen.
"Because I never died, idiot apprentice," said Cross, taking another swing, "You should know by now that we people are really hard to kill."
Of course Allen did. He had had enough near-death experiences for a lifetime and had lived through it all to tell the tale. It was almost miraculous, the escapades of Allen, Cross and basically everyone in the Noah mafia. Most people considered them to be immortal or something.
But still, it would have been nice if that theory had been proven wrong and Cross had actually stayed dead.
"Okay, you didn't die. I can obviously see that. But how?"
"It was faked, idiot," said Cross, "We arranged it."
For a moment, Allen was dumbfounded. Then it finally clicked in.
"You faked your death?" Allen deadpanned, "And I'm guessing Neah was in on this, too. Oh well, I should have expected this. But the question is, why did you do it?"
"To get those Black Order fuckers off my back," said Cross, "They can't do anything to me if they think I'm dead. If you ask me, your death is the one that should have been faked, cause you're their No.1 suspect, but of course, Neah would never let that happen to his dear, beloved nephew."
Right. The Black Order. They were a pretending-to-be-the-good-guys-but-are-actually-a-crime-agency as well as a major pain on the Noah family's asses. They were hellbent on tracking down each and every Noah, especially Allen.
"We'll talk later. Let's go to Neah's," said Cross, abruptly putting down the wine bottle(which Allen noticed was empty already) and standing up.
"What, right now?"
"Yeah. My car's just outside."
Allen considered resisting but then decided, oh what the heck. Neah's house was always filled with food. Who was he to resist going there? It was, after all, Allen's personal heaven, and he sort of missed Neah too.
"Sure, let's go," clipped Allen. He took the keys of the house and headed outside with Cross. Waiting for them in the lawn was Cross's extravagant red car, which made Allen roll his eyes. Seriously, what part of being inconspicuous did Cross not understand? That car was just begging for attention.
[ But then again, Allen had no place to call Cross dramatic, what with having a pseudonym like 'The Jester' for himself. ]
He and Cross got into the car and started towards the Campbell Mansion. Sitting on the driver's seat (there was no way he was letting Cross drive after drinking) and feeling the swishing air on his face, Allen felt strangely content. Sure, Cross coming back from the dead had been a rather unpleasant thing, but then again, hadn't his life always been bad? There was nothing new here.
Yeah, Allen could live with it. At least, for now.
That is the first chapter. This story will probably have like, 10 chapters or something, but it might change later on. As you can see this is a Criminal AU. Things will become clearer as it goes. Please leave a review or something, people. That would be appreciated just as much as Allen appreciates food.