Hey guys, what's up? You didn't like last chapter T^T? Well this chapter will be quite depressing, sorry about that. And there's going to be a lot of flashback, it'll be in italics, cause I don't like to write flashback every single time. And for now Crowned Clown will be bolded italics.
Warnings and others are the usual. Enjoy.
Chapter 10
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Not like this.
Allen had finally found someone of his kind who cared for him. So why? Why?
Winter.
Two years after their first encounter the boy and the clown returned to London, where it all began. As always the week of Christmas was always busy, they were certain that they could gain enough money for a few weeks.
The weather was colder than usual and snow fell heavily. During the daytime some of the snow would melt, only to get frozen at night. It was a great slipping hazard.
It was really late when they arrived, the snow slowed them down significantly. The streets were deserted as everyone was at home, only few people were passing here and there. Though, probably they too were in a hurry to escape the cold as soon as possible.
They could hear the sound of horseshoe hit the cobblestone behind them. A cab was approaching. Allen who was holding Mana's hand - a habit he picked up lately - pulled Mana to the side, so the carriage would pass by them. He loved holding Mana's hand, it was big and warm, completely covering his small, freezing ones.
This is how it should have been, the carriage passing by them as they searched for an inn to stay at for the night. He had never seen it coming. He never expected that the horses would slip and in their panic, get out of control. Allen froze when he snapped his head back to see a horse towering over him, balancing on its hind legs. He could do nothing, when the creature lost balance and fell, endangering him by crushing him to death.
His heart skipped when familiar warm hands pushed him out of the way, making him land in a pile of snow. The bloodcurdling cry of agony wasn't completely blocked out by the snow. Driven by a completely alien fear, Allen rolled out of the snow, only to see what would haunt him forever.
The carriage was turned up, lying on its side, while the horses ran away. The cab driver, not even thinking about the damage he caused, ran after them. Their luggage opened from the impact, clown props scattered around everywhere. Behind the carriage, just like 4 steps away from him, laid Mana unmoving.
Everything stopped. Allen didn't feel the cold wind making him shiver. He didn't feel his soaked clothes clinging to him. He didn't feel the pain of the impact. All he saw was those amber eyes slowly losing their light.
After the initial freezing passed, he dashed to the victim and collapsed next to him. He pulled the man's torso to his lap, gently slapping him to keep him awake. He realised with horror, that it wasn't working. He tried to shift Mana, when he realised his hands were wet... with something warm. Petrified, he turned his shaking hands to look at his palms... that were covered by a very familiar copper-smelling red liquid.
Allen forced down the urge to gag, but he couldn't help but choke. Scorching hot tears swelled under his eyes, blurring his vision and his mind. Mana's body was quickly losing its warmth.
Mana's smile. Mana's laugh. Mana's voice. Mana's warm embrace. All of Mana was fading away, just like the light in his amber eyes. His light, his ray of hope was disappearing.
He didn't feel his own blood leak out of a cut on his temple, nor the stinging agony he felt as he put his weight on his left leg. All the pain was sucked away into the suddenly appearing void in his chest, right at the place where his heart was supposed to be. His own heartbeat was deafening next to the screeching silence that was Mana. Even though he was surrounded by people... He was alone again.
His lips trembled as his throat constricted painfully. "Mana..." he choked out pitifully. His tears broke free, rolling down on his frozen cheeks onto the lifeless body he held. " P-Please... Don't leave me..." he begged. "Don't leave me alone in this world. Please! Don't go! Don't die!" All hope was gone. "MANA!"
Everything else was a blur for Allen. He sat by the body unmoving, even when it was covered by a white sheet - that quickly became soiled by the darkening blood. He didn't know for how long had he watched Mana, the only thing he registered was the arms that pulled him away from him. He screamed, trashed and scratched against the offending appendages. Against his wishes - to be let go - more hands joined and pinned him to the ground. The last thing he felt was a pickle of pain before he passed out.
When he woke up he was tied to a bed with an IV attached to him. After that, a doctor came in who explained the situation with such indifference, that his insides trembled from it. While he got away with a few scratched, bruises and a sprained ankle Mana- his throat constricted at the very thought.
His minor injuries healed within days, so he was discharged quickly. They were also... "kind" enough to let him know where and where would be Mana's funeral.
Lacking proper clothes, he showed up in the clothes he had since their first Christmas: the black, tight fitting pants, knee-high boots and the checked coat. Only a vicar and the undertaker of the town showed up. Allen didn't pay attention to any word he said, he tensely watched the as the cheap coffin was getting covered by earth. Every time the dirt hit the coffin, it seemed like he was losing small pieces of himself.
That fool. That damned fool. He saved a foul-mouthed brat on the account of his own life. He gave up his life to save a meaningless life, when he had such a strong desire to live and find his brother. How was he going to face Neah now? How was he supposed to tell the man, that his long-lost brother gave up his only chance of reuniting with him, to save some orphan he took in?
As the last bits of soil was shovelled back the undertaker and the vicar left Allen alone at the pile of ground. The hole in the ground was filled, but the one in his chest was expanding, deteriorating him. Mana was gone. He was alone again. That thought resounded in his aching emptiness. He didn't hear Its sorrowful cries anymore.
You're not alone. I'm here. I'm still here. I'm not going away. I will never leave you. Please Allen, please listen. It's not your fault. Mana saved you, because he loved you. Please listen and remember, that I'm still here and I love you; I'll always love you.
But Allen didn't hear a word, his grief blocked out the soft Voice he sometimes heard whispering to him. Nothing but Mana mattered to him. Nothing really mattered.
As the night settled he finally turned his back on the gravestone and wiped off his tears. He let out a sigh as he looked up to the cold and cloudless December sky.
Mana was gone. He'll probably never see him ever again, even in the afterlife. He felt cold... He didn't know which way should he head. He had nowhere to go.
Let's go together, Allen.
However...
Never stop...
That was what he always said...
Always keep walking.
He glanced back at the gravestone. "I'll try." He promised with a broken voice.
He turned his back on the empty graveyard and left in search for a place to sleep at.
Allen didn't sleep at all that night.
"Are ya sure ya can manage on ya own?" the Ringleader asked. Allen nodded. All the money he had left was taken by the vicar and the undertaker of the town. He had nothing but the props and the clothes he wore.
"'k then, show me what ya got."
Without word, Allen started his act. First, he juggled with balls, swords and other items he had in his luggage. Then he walked backwards, stepping onto a balloon. He then let the props in his hands drop one by one in his trunk and did some other acrobatic moves like back flips and walking on his hands.
"'k kid, that's enough." Allen stopped and got off the balloon. The Ringleader sighed nervously. "Look, it's not tha' ya don' 'ave talent or anythin' 's just... ya'r a clown aren'cha? Ya shouldn' look that... empty. Ya shoul' be smilin' or somethin', this is a circus ain't a funeral."
Come on Allen... Smile... I love your smiles... You have such beautiful smiles... Smile for me.
Allen nodded stiffly as he collected his belongings. He turned his back to the stunned Ringleader. It appears that he didn't expect the boy leaving for such reasons. "'ey where ya goin'? Ya'r almost in kid, just show some emotion! 'appiness, ange', sadness, anything'll do, just don' look so dead, kid!"
Allen didn't turn back. "Forgive me. I don't think I can manage that right now." Without any words of goodbye, he left.
Since the circus didn't need him, he returned to doing odd jobs. He planned to visit all shops, but everything was closed, it was still Christmas after all. No one was working, no one needed a job done urgently. Allen sighed. No food, no money, no shelter... This is the worst... It's just like the time before he met Mana...
His stomach grumbled loudly. Damn, ever since he met Mana he was fed at least once a day. He had truly grown dependent on the guy.
There was nothing else he could do, he was cold and hungry. It was late and way too cold to perform; he could easily get sick. There was no choice, he had to plead for money like a beggar.
He spotted a corner that was relatively busy and unoccupied. Ah, there he was, the first person to pass., a well-off man, probably a father too. "Excuse me, sir?" Allen addressed the stranger. "Do you have some spare coins?"
"Go home, kid." the man grumbled, but threw some pence at him.
"Thank you sir." the boy bowed gratefully as he pocketed the meagre offer.
A good ten minutes later two ladies arrived.
"Excuse me, ladies? Do you have some spare coins?"
The two turned their nose up, disgust visible in their eyes. "You're filthy." One of them said, then they left without leaving anything.
"Merry Christmas to you too." Allen commented dryly.
The next was a stocky old man. His reaction was pretty violent. "Begging for money? Don't you have any sense of shame?! Go and find a job, you delinquent!" He screamed at him then stormed off. Allen spat after him and cursed the bloke under his breath. He tightened the coat around himself. It may have been winter, but why did Great-Britain has to be so damn freezing?!
The following potential benefactor turned out to be even worse. He came across with a gang. "Oh, you want some money?" their leader cooed with fake concern. It quickly turned into a maniacal grin. "Then drop on your knees and beg like the dog you are." He laughed, the others joining him. Allen only gave an unimpressed glare, which seemed to piss the guy off. He grabbed Allen by his nape and squeezed painfully hard. "Come now Doggy, on your knees!" Allen refused to yield. With a snarl, the bully swung a punch in his way, then came more by his companions. By the time they were done, Allen was lying on the ground, curled in foetal position. The bullies lost interest quickly an decided to head home. None of them noticed that their pockets were lighter.
Allen managed to compose himself somewhat by the time a couple appeared. The woman was horrified seeing the fresh blood and wounds on him, while her husband firmly held her in place. "B-But Marcus-"
"Don't." the man ordered his wife as he practically dragged her away.
"B-But" she tried to protest, but her husband cut her off.
"Don't Lara, that kid is probably out here because his old man sent him to gather money for booze. Look at those wounds. That guy is clearly a drunkard, who abuses his kid." No, Mana was never like that! He never hurt me on purpose! Allen wanted to screech this in that guys face, but the bitter reality of Mana being dead, clamped his mouth shut. "Even if you give him money, that bastard will only hurt him more. It's for the best if you just leave him alone." Now that he explained his opinion, his wife's objection ceased, however, her eyes didn't leave the lithe form. "What a sick arse." The man grumbled under his breath. "Monsters like him should just drop dead." He yelped when an icy snowball connected with the back of his head. His flabbergasted eyes met stormy silvers. "Never talk about Mana like that!" the boy snarled with venom, that made Lara flinch. "EVER!"
"Why you!" Marcus, ignoring his wife's shouting advanced to the boy and slapped him across the face. The sudden blow took the exhausted boy off-guard, making him stumble and fall on the frozen cobblestone.
Before Marcus could land another blow, Lara stopped him. "Marcus don't! He didn't mean it! Let's just go okay?" she asked as she collected her fuming husband from the ground. Her hands quickly found her pouch and handed the very few coins over. "We're sorry." She apologized. "Please, forgive him." She asked for the last time, before she dragged her husband away.
Allen glared at the pouch in the ground as if it offended him. That woman... that overflowing pity radiating from her made him sick.
...But he couldn't be picky now, could he?
Sighing for the hundredth time that day, Allen pocketed his earning.
His hands jerked quickly to catch the balls and other items he tossed in the air while he was balancing over three balloons placed on one another. He wore an oversized clown suit with baggy sleeves and pants, his face painted stark white, a big red smile painted on his face.
Round and round the balls flew in the air, one after another. Other children; some of his age, some younger, some older, along with their parents watched his performance with unmasked awe. Allen forced himself to concentrate on performing. He mustn't look at how they fawn over each other, how they express their love, how happy and alive they look together.
"Father!" Allen snapped his eyes at a running little boy. He had short brown hair with hazelnut coloured eyes wide with joy. Those twinkling orbs were set on an equally enthusiastic man's. The child ran in the man's way, who in turn picked the squealing boy up an embraced him tightly; tightly as if he wished to choke Allen.
The audience disappeared from Allen's view, their sounds were drowned out. He was floating in a dark and empty place, where the only source of light was those too. He gasped when the two turned to leave. No. Don't take away the light! Don't leave me in the darkness! Come back! Mana!
Allen, watch out!
He snapped out of his trance, when a well-aimed stone hit his forehead, making him fall off the ball.
"Show something else you lousy clown!" a kid around 12 demanded. The others let out disappointed noises, and the crowd diminished, leaving behind very few tip.
"Ben!" a high-pitched girl voice reprimanded as the owner of the voice punched the boy's arm. "We're sorry!" the girl apologized, moving to Allen, who packed the props as fast as he could. She too, picked a few balls up and dropped it in his briefcase. He looked around. The boy and his father were gone.
Before Allen could register it the little girl next to him had taken his left hand in her hands and pulled back the glove. "Are you alright? Your hand seems stran-AAAH!" she screamed out in horror as she dropped the deformed limb. "Mo-MONSTER!"
No!
Allen cried out in pain when another stone hit him. It was Ben. "Get away from my sister you, freak!"
Stones and rocks hit him like heavy rain.
Stop it!
"Go away!"
Cease it, fools!
"Disappear!"
Allen's not a monster! He's your saviour!
"Get lost, we have no need for the likes of you!"
I do! You do! All of us does!
Allen grabbed his things and made a run for it, trying to block out the hating words and dismiss the burning of his eyes.
Allen, please don't listen to them!
"Drop dead!"
No!
"Useless! Worthless!"
Lies! You're strong! You're brave!
"Run and never come back! There's no place here for you!"
SILENCE! Don't listen to them Allen! Allen!
Allen passed the boy and his father he had seen earlier, rounding a corner.
Allen.
He ran until his legs could carry him, squeezing his trunk to his chest.
Allen.
As if it could make that horrible emptiness in his disappear.
... I'm sorry.
Cold air blew over in the abandoned graveyard. No surprise, everyone was still celebrating Christmas and prepare for New Year. Only a gaunt boy shook as he stumbled to a familiar, freshly dug grave.
He was cold and he was hurt; despite his best attempts, he just couldn't make a living. He couldn't do this.
Mana...
He collapsed next to the headstone, staring at the dirty snow. He couldn't live on like this.
Allen?
Feared.
Abandoned.
Hated.
Mana...
Oh, Allen...
He remembered, nothing specific, just the feeling. He had been alone before. So why? Why did it hurt so much now? Why was that no matter how much he ate, the emptiness didn't go away?
Mana...
I'm sorry. I tried, but I failed. I can't keep on walking when I have nowhere to go.
Outsmarting his control, hot tears slid down on his hollow cheeks.
Allen.
He didn't understand. He knew that this feeling wasn't sadness.
Baby boy. Allen; please listen. Please, Allen, listen to what I say.
Nor was anger.
You're not alone. I'm here. I'm here for you, only you.
It was a numbing emptiness...
Allen, please-
That made him feel-
"Do you want me to revive Mana Walker?"
Short, but I wanted to update already. Review please!