Disclaimer: I do not own -man!
A/N: Parental Cross and severely hurt Allen. I hope you enjoy it.
I couldn't feel my arms or legs. All I could feel was pain, stretching through my entire body, swallowing me whole. I couldn't move and I couldn't talk. Even breathing hurt at this point. I think I had a fever too, because the ceiling was spinning and every inch of my face felt hot.
I don't know when you came in, but you were sitting in the chair next to my bed, reading a small red book. It was weird that you didn't have a glass of expensive red wine in your hand or an almost finished cigarette in your mouth. You were just staying there, reading, your hair tightened in a ponytail behind your back.
You finally looked up from your small book as you flipped the page and saw I was awake. I noticed your mouth move but I didn't hear anything. Maybe it was because of the fever or the pain. I tried to get up, but it was hard and then I felt your hand support me. I stood up and you gave me a plate full of food.
I was hungry so I ate it with no complains. You didn't say anything and nor did I. We sat in silence, you reading, and me eating. When I was done you took the plate and tossed it to the side, helping me lie down again. I think I heard you telling me to sleep, so I closed my eyes.
Falling asleep was hard. All the pain made it impossible to relax. I shifted a bit, trying to find a better position, but the broken bones inside my body started throwing a fit. I eventually found a better position, but relaxation and sleep were far out of reach. And still, I closed my eyes, telling myself I needed to rest, to regain my strength.
And then you spoke up. And I opened my eyes, a bit in shock. I didn't turn to look at you, but I could tell what you were doing. You were reading from that small book of yours. I listened, waiting for something to happen, but you just kept reading as I slowly faded away, entering a world free of pain and suffering. I fell asleep. But I could still hear you, while I was dreaming of nothingness, in the darkness, I still heard your soft voice reading from that small book.
I remembered the time, a long forgotten time in the past, when I was sick. You covered me with your uniform and another three blankets and placed me on a small and comfy armed chair. You sat in a simple wooden chair, next to me, stroking my hair and checking my fever every now and then.
You didn't smoke or drink for that period of time, taking care of me and reading to me every time I couldn't fall asleep.
Those were the only times I needed you as a father, not as a teacher, and the only times you acted like one. And I was and still am ever so grateful that you are able to throw away those habits of yours and be kind and gentle, even if just by reading from small red books.
A/N: This is Allen talking about Cross. I hope you enjoyed it.
