Disclaimer: I don't own D.Gray-Man
He was hiding.
But then again he was always hiding; granted it was in plain site; but no one had found him yet.
They think he's innocent and light. They think he's optimistic and joyful-but he's not, not really.
He's not sure if he should hate them for not noticing, or be grateful that they haven't. After all, he loves them very much- these people are his everything and he's not so sure he can withstand the disappointment and shock on their faces if they ever found out the truth.
Still, a morbid part of him wonders what they would say or do if they found out that most of the Allen Walker they knew was a lie.
And then he snorts to himself and thinks 'well they are a bit dense'-but he loves them just same.
Or perhaps it's not that they're dense, more so that they simply don't have the time to think it all the way through.
Yes, they knew about Mana, and how he'd had turned him into an akuma, and they know about Master Cross and how Allen had to play cards to save face for the both of them (mostly himself though).
Yes, they probably thought this was where he'd gained his brilliant poker face.
They wrong. So very, very wrong it almost hurts to think about it at times.
He'd gained his poker face long before that; Allen had mastered his poker face before he meant Mana.
Back when he was living in cardboard boxes and fighting dogs for scraps out of garbage bins. Back when a bath meant dunking himself in a dirty stream to wash off and hiding his arm in an oversized mitten. Back when big, drunk, hulking men would hold him down and take turns raping him, and learning the reason why you don't scream when they tell you not to; because no one comes to help dirty little street rats who get raped.
And for some absurd reason, that hurt more than the raping itself.
And of course he can't forget the time he was forced to be in a freak show because some traveling gypsies found out about his arm (you really don't want to know how, truly, you don't) and decided to add them to their caravan against his will by using simple chains and handcuffs.
Not that any one cared at the time, mind you, and he'd managed to escape before they left England completely-which in turn as because he'd been taught the wonderful skill of picking lock from one the other freaks. Not long after he meant Mana.
And through it all, Allen Walker had cultivated his poker face.
He's sure if any of his friends had found out about the full extent of his past they would think 'How did he survive that hell?', but that's the thing; it wasn't hell for him, it was just a way life. His friends think he used to love akumas more than humans because he could see their souls- another false truth he hasn't the heart to correct them on.
To put it simply he loves them because he feels like them, phantoms that no one notices, chained against their will, silently crying out- but no one hears them, no one cares because they're monsters.
Just like him.
On the nights when self pity had put his head in her lap and stroked his hair causing unwanted tears to come as he reminisces about himself and his life.
Was he truly such a monster, so detestable, so forsaken and hated to deserve this?
Did I really deserve this?
On those nights he falls asleep wishing he had the courage to slit his own throat.
But when he wakes, the morning light touching his face with light caresses, he retracts the statement about suicide.
Oh, dear-it seems he's begun to ramble. Back to the point then.
He loves akuma more than humans because, at the time, he truly despised humans. Not all humans, two other captives in the gypsies' caravan, Eric 'The Devils Child' and Joseph 'The Elephant Man' had befriended him and had also escaped. He truly hoped they were okay.
Then he meant Mana and learned that not all normal people were cruel to those who were different.
After learning that, self pity didn't come visit him as often.
But then Mana died.
And self pity came back, bringing sadness and depression with her.
And the Earl, but Allen's pretty sure he invited himself. The bastard.
After that whole fiasco, Master Cross came and trained him and afterwards Allen went to the Black Order.
Funny how he loves his life more than ever, even though there's a demented mad man out there hell bent on killing him.
Then again, it's because of the Earl that he meant all of his friends.
. . . which brings him back to the point that the Allen they see is a lie.
And it's going to stay that way.
Because despite the guilt in his heart, he's not willing to risk losing any of their friendships. He truly doesn't think they would like the real him. The one who's been jaded and a tad cynical and pick almost any lock in two second flat. The one who eats so much, not because of the parasite type innocence but because he remembers a time when there was no food.
He already took a risk showing them he knew how to cheat at cards and gambling. As a gambler he knows instinctively when the risk is too high to take. He refuses to loose everything. Not after he just gained it.
Which is why he'll keep on the poker face of what they think is him.
End
The idea of Allen not being so light and happy came to me when I was wondering what happened to him after his parents abandoned him and before he meant Mana. I figure it'd be pretty bad- probably not as bad as I made it in this fic, but still harsh enough to leave mental scars.
By the way I didn't put this in the disclaimer but there were two other characters mentioned in here that I don't own (thought I'm sure some of you figured that out) which is Eric 'The Devil Child' (Phantom of the Opera) and Joseph 'The Elephant Man' (The Elephant Man) which, by the way, is based on a true story.
I hope you enjoyed it!