Here's chapter three of 'Requiem for the Lost and Damned' up and ready to read! I hope you guys have enjoyed the last two chapters and I hope you will continue to enjoy the story! With that, I'll end this here. Happy reading! :)

EDIT 5-18-2018: Chapter has been revised, things have been added and taken out to better help with the flow of the story, and grammatical and spelling errors were caught and fixed :)

Act 3: Walls

Allen's head felt heavy like he hadn't slept in days. His arms felt stretched and sore, as if he hadn't moved them for hours. It felt as though there was a dense weight on his neck, for he found himself unable to lift his heavy head. His vision was dark as though he was about to succumb to sleep. Why did he feel so sluggish? He just went to bed not that long ago, didn't he?

"Again!" A voice yelled.

A chill shot through his body like a gust of cold wind. He knew that voice. He strained his neck, forcing himself to try and look up. It was hard to do since he felt so slow and tired, but he was eventually able to raise his head. His eyes widened and filled with tears when he saw where he was.

A small, metallic room. It was dark here, colors of bronze and brown and even thick red intermingled with his dark vision. He saw the familiar machines surrounding him, he saw the recognizable tubes and wires in his deformed red arm. It was then he felt the well-known cold weight of the shackles around his neck and ankles to bind him in place.

"Are you deaf, or are you just foolish? I said again!" The voice spoke.

He recognized the large form of a person in front of him. His face was blurred terribly and he couldn't make out any distinguishable facial features. But that stance, build, and that voice alone reminded Allen of who stood before him. It was one of 'them', the one that always in charge of his tests...and the punishments for failing them.

But how did he get back here again? Why was he back in the facility, under the care of the 'them' again, and hooked up to the machines and wires he learned to grow accustomed to? Didn't the kind man named Mana take him in off the streets? Where was he? Why was he here again? Didn't 'they' throw him away in the first place? Why was he here?

A familiar whip whistled through the air before the all too familiar sting of it hit him in the chest. He let out a pained cry and a sob, fresh tears cascading down his face. He fought those restraints like he used to, pulling and tugging. But it was just like every other time; he wasn't going anywhere.

"Stop struggling and do it again!"

"I can't!" He anguished.

No matter how many times he told them he couldn't, they still made him try. Over and over and over again… It was the same old song and dance. His denial earned him another crack of the whip straight to his chest.

"Stop crying and activate your innocence!"

"…a-activate!" Allen cried as he glanced to the cross embedded in his right arm.

It did nothing as usual. It refused to listen to him, or it was just ignoring him. He yelled at it to activate again, but it would not. His failure earned him another whip strike, but this time it slashed across his face. His head snapped to the left from the force and a small trail of blood splattered on the metallic floor a few inches away from him.

"Again!"

"I-I can't!"

"Again!"

"Activate!'

Bright white light flashed through the room, blinding everyone inside and the machines and wires he was hooked up to went haywire for a moment. When the light cleared and Allen dared to look again, his eyes shrank even further and even more tears fell from his eyes. He let out a scream at the form his red arm had taken.

Now there were sharp blades in place of where his fingers used to be. His arm was crooked and twisted in all the wrong ways, winding and bending haphazardly and hanging limp in the air. The skin around his blade-like fingers was more like metal and colored silver, but that was deformed too. The rest of his hand looked like a mangled piece of fresh red meat. It looked as though his hand and arm had melted from fire. This was the worst it had ever looked.

There had been times when he was able to activate it before, but all it did was make his arm larger and look more like a demon claw, but now it looked like a deformed weapon instead.

"I should have known…He'll never be able to fully awaken his innocence. These results are even worst then the last time he was able to partially activate it." The loud voice remarked.

But Allen was still horrified. His arm would not revert back to the way it was before. He kept screaming and crying, trying to run away from a part of his own body but being unable to.

"This one's a failure." The voice growled.

The figure started to make his way towards him, snapping that whip against the ground with a loud crack. He knew what was to follow next. Punishment…

"No-! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me! Please-!" Allen screamed as he thrashed about.

He tried to break away from his shackles, but they held him in place against the ground. The figure came closer to him, their large form growing in size the closer they got. That whip was pulled tight in the iron-grip of their hands.

"…-Len!"

A voice? It made him stop thrashing for a moment, even if the towering figure continued to close the short distance between them. The voice wasn't coming from the person in charge of his activation, nor was it coming from any of the beeping machines or even the observatory room just outside of this one. It sounded foggy and distant, like he had hallucinated it or something of the like.

"…Allen!" The voice called again.

It sounded so familiar. Why couldn't he remember who it was? But why were they calling him Allen? His title was A1-3N; he had no name. But soon the looming figure was standing in front of him, face blurred out and unrecognizable even still.

"What are you looking for, a reprieve? You won't find one here. Now pay attention so this lesson sinks in!"

The whip cracked across his face, his head jolting to the side as more blood spurt from his skin. He let out a cry and more tears started to fall from his irritated eyes. He just wanted it to end. If he was a failure, when why couldn't they just leave him be or end it all? Why did they insist on hurting him like so?

Another whip-strike slashed across his forehead, making his head snap back and hit the wall behind him. Then those strikes started coming faster and faster, no longer giving him any time to catch his breath. He couldn't brace himself fast enough so the pain just stung tenfold.

"I'm sorry!" crack!

"Please stop, I'm sorry!" crack!

"Please!" crack!

"Allen!"

He was suddenly whisked out of the metallic room in a flash of white light. Everything was dark and cold here and he couldn't see anything. He didn't realize he was crying and lashing out until he felt hands holding him down. Wait, holding him down? Where was he now? A fresh wave of panic washed over him and he started to fight even more. What was that person going to do to him now?

"Please don't hurt me anymore! I'm sorry! Please!"

"Allen, Allen calm down, it's alright, you're alright…" A gentle voice spoke up over his wailing.

That voice… That was the one that he couldn't find before. It was the soothing voice that called him by a name and not his set of numbers. But this time the voice sounded less distant and much clearer, almost as if it was right in front of him. For some reason, that made him calm down a bit and he stopped thrashing about and screaming.

"See? You're alright, you're safe…" The calm voice soothed. The hands that were once holding him in place moved away.

He soon realized why it was so dark and why he couldn't see; his eyes were closed. Had he been dreaming? He forced his eyes to pry open, which took a bit of effort because they felt rather heavy. His vision was blurry and it was still rather dark, but his eyes slowly began to adjust and shapes started to become recognizable.

There was a figure in front of him, an object behind him, and a square thing on the wall behind that object. He was in a room. The figure reached over, going to fiddle with something close to his head. When the room was washed in soft light, his eyes were able to make things out much better.

Sitting in front of him with a concerned expression on his face was Mana. He was back in his bedroom, which if he remembered correctly, was in Mana's house. That's right… He wasn't in that place anymore, he was taken off the streets. So it had all been just a bad dream. Seeing the older man there watching over him started to make him feel emotional. No one had ever tried to comfort him out of a bad dream before.

Tears welled in his eyes for probably the eighth time that night, but they weren't sad. No, these were tears of reprieve and comfort. These tears did seem to feel less heavy as they brimmed in his eyes.

"Mana…" Allen drawled.

"Come here, my child." Mana responded fondly.

He didn't wait for the small boy to move, because he was already lifting him out of the bed and into his lap instead. The little one clung to him and buried his face into his soft shirt he used to sleep in.

"I had a bad dream…" Allen clarified with another sniff.

"I see, I see. What happened in this bad dream of yours?"

"I…was in 'that' place again. They were trying to get me to wake up my innocence again."

Innocence. It was such a familiar word, but Mana couldn't quite put his finger on it. No matter, he had more important things to worry about.

"What were they doing to you?" Mana asked, his voice a mix of hurt and of irritation.

It must have been bad –to have Allen suddenly screaming like that. He seemed fine when he checked on the child before he went to lay down himself, but no more than thirty minutes later he heard blood-curdling screaming and crying coming from the boy's room. It had Mana in sheer panic and he all but dropped everything he was doing and hurried to the spare room as fast as he could.

He saw him twisting and writhing in his bed, begging and pleading with someone or something to stop hurting him and that he was sorry. He couldn't even rouse him from sleep for a bit. He called out his name twice and tried to gently shake him, but he wouldn't wake. His thrashing got worse, and it was getting bad enough that if he continued, he'd probably hurt himself. So he had to hold him down and then yell his name before he was finally able to wake him up.

"They…the one that made me take the tests…" Allen started in a hush voice, which pulled Mana's attention back to him.

"They were striking me, telling me to activate it again and again. I…I couldn't do it, so they kept hitting me with a whip. I-it hurt so much, Mana. I was so scared. I thought…I thought I was back there again. It was so scary…" Allen said, pausing and hiccupping throughout the explanation.

Mana just circled his arms around the boy a little tighter, cradling him rather than just having him sit stationary on his lap. Allen tucked his face away, swarming himself further into that warmth even if he kept sobbing. He really didn't want to cry anymore. He was so tired of it. It seemed like it was the only thing he was capable of doing anymore; just cry and fight and nothing else. He felt like nothing more than a burden.

"I-I'm sorry…" Allen found himself saying, his voice muffled from having his head tucked away against the older man's shirt.

"What on earth are you sorry for, little one?" Mana asked.

"…All I do is cry. I cry and I cry. I cried in 'that' place, I cried on the streets, and I cry here too…"

"Allen…"

"…I'm just a stupid crier. You'll get tired of me too…!"

"Allen." Mana snipped.

The tone of voice caused the young child to glance up with frightened eyes. He hadn't heard Mana use that tone of voice before, let alone direct it towards him. He felt even more alarmed when he saw a splash of amber in the older man's eyes. That wasn't there before; his eyes were supposed to be brown! Did he do something wrong?

"You are not a foolish child, Allen. There is nothing wrong with crying, it's a natural response to sadness or stress. No one will think less of you for crying, and I know I certainly don't think any less of you."

The amber in his eyes started to fade away, the gentle almond brown replacing them again. It eased Allen's panic, but not completely; his tone was still rather firm.

"I will not tire of you, Allen. I'm not the same as the people who abandoned you; I took you in of my own choice, please do well to remember that."

Allen kept quiet, but did slightly nod his head to signify he understood. But Mana didn't keep that stern expression on his face for very much longer. It faded away rather easily and he was given a small smile instead of a miffed anger.

"Now, about this bad dream of yours…Did anything else scary happen in it?" Mana reminded.

Just remembering the last-half of it caused Allen to shudder and swallow a thick lump in his throat. His arm: it was all mutilated and twisted and it looked like a massive weapon instead of the normal red he was so used to. He had never seen it like that before, not even in 'that' place. It made him shake and the tears came back.

He glanced to his accursed limb with a look a fright on his face, "M-my arm. I think the innocence woke up, but it did it wrong…it was big, and white, an-and my fingers were like knives. It was so twisted and lumpy and it wouldn't go back to normal! I-I couldn't get away from it…"

Mana started to frown again, able to piece together why the child had suddenly started screaming and thrashing about earlier.

"…the one who hit me with the whip, they called me a failure and…th-they started hitting me more. It hurt. It was scary. I…was scared!" Allen explained, his voice becoming hurried and shaky.

But Mana just cradled him again. He patted him on the back gently and kept him close, so he would feel secure, "Well, your arm looks fine to me." He reassured.

But Allen still seemed to be rather disturbed by his nightmare; whimpering and sniffing. He never really calmed down, just insulted himself for a brief moment before recalling the rest of his dream and going right back to that panicked state. The way his smaller hands clung to his shirt; it honestly saddened him a bit. He was just a poor child that had been through traumatic situations at an early age.

Not really saying anything, Mana stood up from the bed with Allen in tow, making sure to properly support his rather malnourished frame. It was enough of a change in pace to have the boy make a small noise of surprise, but it was quick to hide away behind some more whimpers. Without a word, the older man lowered the wick in the oil lamp in order to snuff out the flame, then left the spare bedroom altogether.

He walked across the dark hall, passing the bathroom before entering his own bedroom. There was an oil lamp of his own burning dimly, lighting up the room just enough to see the floor and a few pieces of furniture close enough to it. Where light didn't touch, large shadows were cast over the walls and danced against them.

Mana cut across the bedroom to reach the side of the bed that was always unoccupied. The covers were already pulled back, seeing as how he was getting ready to lay down before Allen's nightmare occurred. He was careful about peeling the child out of his arms and laying him down onto the bed, much like he had done earlier in the night.

Allen wasn't whimpering anymore, mainly due to his confusion on why he was now in Mana's room and being laid down in his large bed. He did continued to sniff however, trying to pull the mucus back due to the heavy amount of crying he did. But the two still didn't speak even as he was tucked in gently. It still remained quiet as he watched the older man walk around to his side of the bed and lower the wick in his oil lamp before getting himself comfortable too.

"Mana?" Allen spoke up against the silence.

"What is it, Allen?" Mana responded.

"Umm…" There was a question that formed on the boy's tongue, but now he wasn't sure how to ask it. Instead, a blush just formed on his face as he tried to think of what to say.

The older man smiled, and as if reading the child's mind, he said, "I don't think you'll have to worry about nightmares if you're not by yourself."

"…but…is this, okay?" Allen asked, his blush still staining his cheeks pink.

Mana smiled and laughed softly, taking one of his hands and smoothing out the young boy's hair softly, "Yes, my child, it's okay."

Allen smiled gently, the blush giving his skin a more healthy glow. Around that time, the flame in the oil lamp slowly faded out and the room was coated in a calm darkness. Mana relaxed with a long exhale, feeling the weights of today leave his shoulders in an instant. He had just closed his eyes, but within a few seconds, he heard the covers shifting around from Allen's side; then he felt small warmth cuddle up against his side.

Mana just couldn't bite back the large smile that overcame his face in that moment. He could really get used to this.

Morning sun slowly filtered through the tiny cracks in between the white blinds in front of Mana's bedroom window. The soft yellow light washed over the floor and draped over the far wall. The shadows of leaves on trees fluttered in front of the sun for a few brief moments before disappearing from the line of the window. Mana slowly cracked his eyes open and yawned a large lofty yawn.

He slowly sat up in his bed, right hand wiping over his heavy eyelids. The force against his closed eye caused it to water up slightly, adding more moisture and hydration. Although, his ears picked up on the sounds of light breathing from his right. He was confused for a moment, but then remembered what was causing it.

Mana glanced over and saw Allen sleeping peacefully on the other side of his large bed. The covers were pulled up to his neck and he could see the boy's small hands curled up next to his face while he slept. A smile broke across his face at the sight and he couldn't resist taking his hand and running it through the child's clean, fluffy white hair.

It was hard to believe so much had happened yesterday.

He remembered sipping his coffee in the diner, going the wrong way when a strong drive urged him in that direction, and then finding Allen in a decrepit alley. He remembered the savage look in the boy's silver eyes, the tears stained to his cheeks, and the dirty clothes that swallowed his malnourished frame. It was hard to believe that all of that had happened in only one evening.

He remembered bringing him home, helping him bathe, and tending to him in the middle of the night after his frightening nightmare; he even let the boy sleep in his bedroom with him, just in case he had another bad dream. But he slept soundly throughout the rest of the night, even spending most of it cuddled up to his side.

Mana's right hand balled up the bedsheets covering his body and pulled them over to the side, deciding to go ahead and get up for the morning. He stretched his arms over his head, a satisfying crick sound popping from his shoulder-blades and upper back. He glanced over his shoulder and looked at Allen again. He wondered if it would be alright to leave him alone for a little bit. He was going to go make breakfast, but after the bad dream he had the night before, would he be alright by himself?

He probably would be. It wouldn't take that long to make the food anyways. So Mana quietly rose from the bed and stepped out of his bedroom to headed to the kitchen to get started.

Allen's eyelids felt like they had been glued together when he came to. Even though he was awake, dried mucus caked the corners and edges of his eyes and kept them shut tight. He wiped at his eyes roughly with the heels of his palms, successfully rubbing the crusted mucus off the edges of his eyes. He was able to open them after that. Although his vision was blurred with sleep, so he blinked rapidly a few times to refocus his line of sight.

When his vision cleared, he realized he was in Mana's room. How did he get here again? Wait, the bad dream he had last night; the older man decided to bring him in here to keep him from having any more nightmares. Remembering his mutated arm from the dream had him shudder, but now that morning had come, the thought just seemed kind of silly now.

He glanced over to his left to see if Mana was awake, only to be met with the sight of the man gone entirely. Did he get up to use the bathroom? No, the master bath was empty and the lights were off, so he wasn't in there. Just when Allen was about to call out, his nose picked up the scent of something sweet. Actually, there was more than just the sweet scent wafting through the air: it was a bunch of smells!

One scent smelled salty, the sweet scent was still there, one smelled creamy, and one smelled peppery. His stomach rumbled loudly in that moment. If he remembered right, he hadn't had anything to eat in two days. The last thing he did manage to eat was bread he pilfered from a food stall in town. He wanted to know if Mana was behind the source of the yummy smells, so Allen tossed the blankets off him and got out of the large bed.

He was a little wobbly on his feet at first, his body still half asleep and adjusting itself. It was the first night he had slept on a bed in a long time, so getting used to moving around after being in such a soft spot was a bit of a challenge. His limbs felt like jelly and he wobbled with a careful step or two. One of the rolled cuffs on the pants he was borrowing came loose and that didn't make things any easier. It did end up tripping him when he took a few more steps.

Falling didn't hurt, but the carpet did burn the skin on his hands a little. He wasn't exactly sure how to roll the pant-leg back like Mana had it, so he decided to leave it alone for now. He'd just have to be extra careful when navigating the house –which did look rather different and brighter in the daytime.

Allen slowly eased himself out of the bedroom, taking care in not falling over or making too much noise. The scents were much stronger out here than they were in the bedroom. He sniffed the air precariously, catching more of those sweet and salty smells. His stomach gurgled again and he was quick to curl his arms around his gut in order to quiet it.

He navigated his way out of the hallway and into the living room, taking in the change of atmosphere now that it was daytime. It still seemed quaint and secure like it had last night, but now it was much brighter and felt even more inviting. His ears picked up on the sounds of some sort of hissing and popping and it pulled his attention back to the kitchen.

His feet moved and he made his way across the living room and close to the kitchen. He stopped at the island counter that separated the two open rooms. Wanting to gain a better vantage point, Allen climbed up onto the barstool and once he was sat down, he leaned over the counter to peer further in.

He saw Mana in front of a stove. He appeared to be cooking something in a skillet and it was smoking a bit. The food inside was causing the hissing and popping noise; it must be kind of a greasy food then? When he spent time in 'that' place, he was often given bland or greasy food that made the same noises.

Allen made a face of disgust, hoping that Mana wasn't making something that tasted yukky. But he saw the older man grab something from the counter on his side and sprinkle something into the skillet. It smelled strong and had a salty kind of scent to it. The strength of the smell caused a tickle to develop in his nose, which made his face scrunch up as he tried to hold it in. But his sneeze came out anyway, albeit restrained.

But the sneeze just made Mana glance over with a small look of surprise on his face, but that whittled into a fond smile when he made eye contact with him, "Good morning, Allen." He greeted.

"G'morning, Mana." Allen returned as he wiped his nose with the back of his right hand.

"Were your dreams pleasant?" The older man asked as he turned down the heat on the stove.

"Mm, I guess." The young child responded, not really recalling the rest of his dreams.

"Good." Mana responded with that smile still stuck to his face.

Allen watched as he started to put different items of food onto spare plates. He saw fluffy tan ovals, wiggly brown strips, puffy yellow cotton looking things, and two tall glasses full of white stuff. He had never seen food like this before. The food he was used to was usually all one color; gray. The liquids he drank were always water, he wasn't given anything else.

If anything, the food smelled good, so hopefully it would taste good too. He continued watching as Mana turned off the heat to the stove and used meal gripping things to take the wiggly strips off the skillet and onto a plate. He saw two plates and noted that each were stuffed full of food. His mouth watered and he ended up drooling without realizing it. He was only aware of the subconscious action when he felt that warm saliva trail down the back of his red hand.

Allen made a face and wiped the drool off, an embarrassed blush painting his cheeks. He hoped Mana didn't see that. Thankfully he didn't because he was busied with setting those full plates and glasses onto the kitchen table. But when he was done, he glanced up towards the counter and the smile on his face grew a little more.

"Breakfast is ready. Come have a seat." Mana directed.

Allen hopped off the barstool and scurried towards the table, his stomach growling without restraint. The older man watched as he hopped up on one of the chairs and scooted it a little closer to the table. He was a little bit short in the chair, but he could still reach everything. Mana took a seat across from him, doing the same things that he did in order to get comfortable.

"Well, go ahead and help yourself." Mana said.

So Allen did just that. He picked up the wiggly brown thing and held it up to his eyes. It was a little floppy, but it still held a good shape and it was rather crispy in some parts. He sniffed it carefully, noting that this was the salty scent he was smelling earlier. He noticed that Mana was watching him inspect his food.

It was a little embarrassing to be stared at, but he guessed the older man just watched to gauge his reaction about how the food actually tasted. So, he cautiously took a small bite out of the wiggly brown thing. Vast flavors immediately flooded his mouth and made it water suddenly: It was smoky, but it was salty. It was crunchy yet soft. A huge smile overcame his face.

It was so good that Allen made a small noise of joy. That must have pleased Mana, because the man was smiling just as brightly as he was. "How does it taste?" He asked.

"It's so yummy! What is this, Mana?" Allen asked with a mouth full of wiggly stuff.

"That's called bacon. It's meat that comes from a pig."

"Oohh!"

Allen knew that a pig was an animal. There were lots of animals in the world, and some they ate as food, and some they kept as pets. He knew that much at least. He may not have ever been able to wake up his innocence, but he at least was taught a thing or two while he was there. There was only once nice person from 'that' place, and she was the same age as him. She had innocence too, and everything that she learned there, she would teach him. He wondered if she was okay. She probably was. She could make her innocence wake up, after all.

He broke out of his thoughts, not wanting to become saddened again. He wasn't in that bad place anymore; he was in a warm and kind place now and living with a really nice and caring man. He moved onto another food item still sitting untouched on his plate; the fluffy tan things.

He was about to grab it with his hands, but,

"Hold on, Allen." Mana spoke up.

Allen stopped in his tracks, his hands hovering above the fluffy things and not moving an inch. The older man got up from his chair and walked over to where he was sitting. He grabbed a silver thing that was next to his plate and placed it into his right hand.

"This is what you use to eat that with. It's a fork."

"Fork?" Allen mused as he pulled his hand back and twisted the object around in his hand, "Why?" He asked. He got to use his hands for the bacon, so why couldn't he do that with these fluffy things?

"Some foods you use silverware, like that fork, to eat with. It's proper etiquette." Mana explained.

"Etiquette?"

"Yes, 'Manners', child. You don't want to look crude while you eat, do you?"

Allen shook his head no. He already looked like a monster; he didn't want to look uncouth on top of that. He just wanted to fit in. If using silverware would help, then he'd do it. So he used the fork to stab into the fluffy tan oval, having a little bit of trouble with it at first, but managing to tear off a piece successfully in the end.

Mana went back to his chair and sat down again, content in watching Allen eat and learn how to do new things. There was so much to teach him, so much learning and growing for him to do. But first, he really needed to get the boy some clothes that fit him better. Not only that, but he was pretty sure a boy his age would like some things and toys to call his own. It made him wonder if that young white-haired child had ever been given something nice or comforting.

But he too came out of his thoughts when he heard Allen make another sound of elation.

"What's this stuff, Mana?"

"Those are pancakes; a staple in most breakfasts."

"Wow! You make really yummy food, Mana!" Allen praised before he went to try the puffy yellow things next.

Mana just laughed a little when the boy was making more happy sounds after eating the next item of food on his plate.

"Mana, What's-"

"Those are scrambled eggs. The eggs are laid by chickens, which are also animals we use as a food source."

"Wow~!" Allen exclaimed.

He then looked to the glass sitting next to his plate. He wondered what kind of liquid was in there. He set the fork down and picked up the glass with both hands. The glass felt cold. It wasn't a bad feeling at all; it was rather nice. He tilted the white liquid back until it coated his tongue. This stuff was creamy and refreshing. It didn't taste at all like water! It even had a sweet aftertaste when he swallowed.

Before he could even ask what he drank was, Mana was quick to explain that it was milk he drank, and then explained where that came from too. When all of the food had been tasted and named, Allen wasted no more time and dove straight in, his stomach growling in delight. Each bite was rich with flavor and it felt as though he couldn't eat it fast enough. He could tell that Mana was happy too, because he was all smiles as he watched him eat for a bit. Then they were both eating together, although Allen ate a little more vigorously whereas Mana ate in a more sophisticated fashion.

It wasn't long after that when Allen cleared his entire plate and downed all of the milk in the glass. He couldn't even remember the last time he felt this full and elated. Come to think of it, he never really had food like this before at all. He hoped they would have more delicious food together all the time!

"So, I take it that you enjoyed the food?" Mana mused as he finished off his own plate.

"Yes! Thank you! It was yummy!"

"You're welcome, child. I'm happy to hear you liked it."

The older man stood up from his chair and collected the dishes from the table. He took them over towards a counter near the back of the kitchen and set them into a large sink installed in it. He wasn't going to worry about the dishes quite yet. There were still a few things he wanted to get done soon, and those things involved getting out of the house for a bit.

Mana left the kitchen, making his way across the living room. In order to go out for the day, he'd have to get ready. He heard Allen get up from his seat and scurry after him. When he got close to the fireplace, he stopped and glanced behind him.

"Allen, do you think you could wait here in the living room for a moment?" Mana asked.

"Oh, yeah, I can. But why?" Allen curiously responded.

"I have to get dressed. You and I are going out this morning." He explained before he made his way to his bedroom.

Although for Allen, that sentence drove panic into his head. What did he mean that they were 'going out'? Did he mean go outside? But why did he have to come? Unless…unless… A heavy weight settled in his stomach and he knew it wasn't from the food. Could it be that Mana was going to take him back where he found him? Why else would he have to go?

He didn't want to go back outside again! He was getting used to being inside, being around people, being himself again. Why? Why did everyone always want to get rid of him? Allen's eyes started to water with future tears. He didn't know if he'd be able to handle the streets again: After the warm bed he slept in, the roof over his head, the wonderful food, and the kindest care he had ever received, he didn't want to go back to scavenging the streets in dirty clothes and scaring away anyone who came too close.

Mana had been so kind; he had overlooked his horrible deformities and told him he was special. Did he even mean that? Maybe he did yesterday, but maybe he changed his mind today. Allen's eyes blurred and he tried to rub the tears out of them. They clung to the skin on his arm like raindrops and the moisture he got rid of just came back.

No, he couldn't go back! He didn't want to! How could he get Mana to change his mind? He didn't know what to do. In his fit, he bolted out of the living room, down the hall, and opened the door to the spare bedroom at the very end of said hall. Once opened, he slipped inside, then quickly and quietly shut the door behind him. But what good was barricading himself in this room going to do? He didn't know, but for now, it beat the thought of being abandoned again. He dashed over to the bed and gathered up the thickest quilt on it.

He just felt like he should hide. Maybe if he could stay hidden long enough, Mana might just change his mind and let him stay. He looked around the room, wondering if he could duck away somewhere for a bit. His gainsboro eyes caught sight of the closet across from the bed. That would have to do.

Allen scurried to the door, opening it just like he had done with the bedroom door. He shut it behind him and was soon standing in absolute darkness that reminded him of nighttime. It was an oddly comforting thought, imagining it was night. He curled the thick quilt around himself and felt around for a corner. When he did feel one, he nestled his back into it and slid down to the floor, curling his arms around his knees and hiding his head in them.

He felt silly, he felt scared, he felt upset, and he felt empty. He remembered these emotions. He felt these feelings often in 'that' place and on the streets too. A few tears dribbled out of his eyes and he sniffed, as if the action would pull the moisture back. Now he found himself wishing he was never taken off the streets, that way he wouldn't have grown to like it here: wouldn't have grown to enjoy sleeping in a bed, eating food that tasted good, or being wrapped up in warm embraces.

He huddled into his quilted ball a little tighter, trying to keep himself from crying at the thought of being alone again, but being unable to wave it off. In the end, he just kept silently sobbing.

"Allen?"

His eyes widened when he heard Mana's voice calling for him. He must have realized he wasn't in the living room anymore. He gripped his knees a little tighter, feeling the bite of his chipped nails sink into his skin.

"Where did you run off too?" Mana called.

He was just going to stay put right here. He buried his face into his legs a little further, as if to quiet his own breathing. He could pick up on the sounds of the older man stepping about in the living room. He heard the steps coming to the hallway before pausing for a brief moment. He dared himself to breathe a little, his breath hot as it blew back against his face.

He heard Mana make his way down the hall and Allen found himself slamming his eyes shut when the bedroom door opened. Maybe if he kept his eyes shut hard enough, the older man wouldn't be able to find him or see him. A naïve thought, but he clung to it with all he had.

There were a few slow and testing steps from beyond the closet door, perhaps it was Mana glancing about to room to see if he could find him. He hoped it wouldn't, because if the older man couldn't find him, then he wouldn't be able to let him go. But his bubble burst when he heard the closet door open. He tensed a little tighter and kept his eyes shut.

"Allen?" Mana asked curiously.

Without realizing he had done it, Allen had opened his eyes and glanced up. His silver eyes were now locked with Mana's brown ones. He felt frozen as he was stared at in confusion and bewilderment.

"What on earth are you doing in the closet?" Mana asked as he crouched down to the boy's height.

When he saw he was being reached out to, Allen was quick to smack Mana's hand away with his red arm, much like he had done just yesterday when they met. "I'm not going back there again!" He exclaimed. He wanted his voice to sound sure, but it just sounded pitiful.

"Easy now, Allen. Please tell me what's-"

When Mana reached out for him again, he struck him away with a bit more force. The man backed off for a moment, his own hand slightly red from the impact. What had gotten into this child? He was acting the same way when he had first seen him in that decrepit alleyway; violently frightened.

"It's alright, child. There's nothing to be afraid of here." Mana consoled as he reached out to him again with both arms this time.

"No! I don't want to go back, Mana! I don't want to be left behind! Please don't make me go back there!" Allen cried as he tried to swipe the older man away again.

But Mana was resilient and wrapped the young child into a warm embrace anyways. Allen struggled and fought to get out of the hold, still keeping it in his head that the older man was going to toss him aside like everyone else had done.

However, Mana had no intention of letting go, not when the little one was greatly upset and acting wild. He must have gotten it in his head that they were going out just so he could dump the white-haired boy on the streets again.

So he kept holding onto Allen, who was still fighting to break away. He kept crying and shouting, spouting on about how he was going to be abandoned again. It upset the older man, but he still held tight. Whenever the boy decided to quiet down, he'd ease his fears.

It took longer than expected, but Allen eventually cried and fought his way to fatigue. Now he just leaned into Mana and brokenly sobbed; his voice cracked and hoarse.

"Allen, listen to me," Mana said in a comforting fashion. When he saw the bloodshot eyes of the boy looking at him, he continued, "I'm not abandoning you. When I said we would be going out, I didn't clarify what that meant. We're going out today because I want to find clothes that actually fit you, tidy your looks up a bit, and make sure you have every accommodation you need for staying here with me."

"Y-You mean it? You-You're not just saying that?" Allen sniffled.

"Of course I mean it. I'm not going to abandon you, I promise."

"…Promise you promise?"

"Cross my heart." Mana made a cross over his heart as soon as he said that.

Allen wiped the tears out of his eyes and he hugged him back. He was so frightened that Mana was going to turn out like all the others. He was so worried that he wouldn't be good enough and he'd get left behind again. But now he didn't feel that way, at least not entirely. He wanted to start trusting again. He wanted to feel accepted by whoever gave him that chance. With Mana, he had that chance, and he was so glad he wasn't like the others.

He had everything he needed right here: Warmth, comfort, care, love, and understanding. Even if it was going to take some time to get these doubts out of his head on his own, he lad least had Mana to help him when he needed it.

Plus, he promised too.

A/N: I hope you guys still liked the chapter! If you did, don't forget to drop me a review, I loves them! To quote another Author:

"Follows are my drink, favorites are my food, and reviews are my life force." XD

With that, I bid you all adieux until the next installment!

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Millennium Earl: *Heart*
Mojo-Jojo: That is the most evilest thing I can imagine!..." *Happy tears*

~Toodles!