Disclaimer: I still don't own DGM.

Author's Note(s): 1) A few people asked about the news about Hoshino-sensei. My information is based off of what I find on Tumblr, and I guess the validity of the information found on that website is always up to debate. But the basis of it is that Hoshino posted pictures on her Instagram that show her working on what definitely appears to be a new chapter. So fingers crossed! 2) Ha! A new chapter already! Please take this as a peace offering for my prolonged absence.

WARNINGS! [PLEASE READ!]: internalized homophobia; GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF SELF-HARM/CUTTING; depression; self-hate; crude language

Allen POV

I sat down in front of the piano, letting the events of the past 24 hours wash over me. Somehow, things had gone from terrifying to just plain strange. I heard the water begin to run, and felt a blush rise on my cheeks. Yuu Kanda was taking a shower upstairs. Water was weighing down that silky black hair, and dripping down that well-toned chest towards those strong thighs…

I sat bolt-upright. NO! Bad mind! Don't think of Kanda that way – there's no point in that!

Except a small voice whispered in my ear: But he's gay, remember? And he's pretty nice to you…

But the other voice retaliated immediately: Even if he likes you now (which he probably doesn't – you're too much of a freak for that), what would he say if he found out about your arm? He'd leave immediately; no one's crazy enough to deal with your shit. You're just not worth the effort…

I slumped over, pulling my feet up onto the bench and hiding between my knees. I felt my eyes begin to get wet.

No one could ever love you, you fucking faggot! You're a depressed, crazy, useless, pathetic, worthless, undeserving, ugly, repulsive monster! Who could ever care for such a freak! They'd have to be just as crazy as you, willing to let you drag them under and drown right alongside you? Who do you think you are?! A bloody siren? Not that anyone would even fall for your seductions, though… But to be willing to drag others under to save yourself… You're a horrible person, you know that?

"Yes… I know…"

"Know what?"

I nearly fell off the piano bench, I whipped around so fast. Kanda was standing there in the doorway, attempting to towel-dry his hair. His gaze sharpened, eyebrows furrowing.

"You OK?"

I turned away as I realized my cheeks were wet, and quickly wiped them dry on my sleeves.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I mumbled.

"You're 'fine', huh?" I glanced back at him hesitantly, and realized he wasn't looking at me. Or anything else, for that matter. He seemed to be gazing towards something invisible to normal eyes, a place far away. Then he seemed to shake himself out of his reverie, and turned his gaze back to me. "I've heard that one before, Moyashi."

"… It's Allen, Bakanda…" I whispered back. There was something in his face, something in his eyes, that told me he understood. Is that even possible?

He smirked, "Whatever. Come on, let's go to bed. I want to get an early start on the project tomorrow."

I got up and followed him out of the room. I realized as I got into bed that I was blushing again.

I struggled to breathe as I ran through a forest that seemed to stretch forever, endlessly. Every tree was the same, and though I was out of breath, it felt like I wasn't moving at all. Branches scratched my face as I forced my way between them as fast as I could, and brambles tore at my clothes. Tree roots seemed to move into my way, tripping me, forcing me to bruise my hands as I caught myself, then push my aching body back off the ground. Every time this happened, I glanced behind me, terrified, to where I could hear the lumbering footsteps of the monster chasing me. I didn't even know what it was, I just knew I couldn't let it catch me…

Deeper and deeper into the increasingly dense jungle I rushed, my chest heaving as my lungs struggled to capture the much-needed oxygen. Then, finally, finally, I saw a light. Hope filled my chest and I pushed my pained body harder, thrusting my way through the thickets, until I reached –

Nothing.

For one dazzling instant I saw the sky, beautiful and blue, gleaming into the endless forevers, but then the ground vanished beneath me, and I felt myself begin to tumble into the darkness, one arm still desperately outstretched, reaching for the light it could never grasp.

I woke up with a start, sitting bolt upright. By the time I realized it had been a dream, I was huddled over my knees, shaking. I was breathing hard, as if I really had run miles upon miles through endless woodlands. My blood pumped through my body with such force that it felt like my ears were pounding, and I was covered in a cold sweat.

I wanted to scream. To scream until I ran out of breath and passed out.

I threw off the covers, and dashed toward my dresser, trembling hands desperately seeking what lay hidden at the back.

A black wave seemed to surround me, and I could no longer think straight. All I knew was that I hated everything, and I wanted it all gone. So with vicious fury I dragged a blade across my arm.

The relief was immediate, and I felt a broken smile settle on my features.

Again.

I obeyed the voice.

Again. Again. Again!

Every time, I did as it instructed, and slowly the voice went quiet, and the yelling in my ears stopped. I sat against the wall as blood ran down my arm in thick red streams, pooling on the floor. A dry sob broke the silence, and I let the tears begin to flow.

I fell asleep like that, propped up against the wall, and so I woke up very sore. I still ached from Cross's beating, and now I also had an arm encrusted with blood. I made my way quietly into the connecting bathroom and began to clean myself up, disinfecting and bandaging the wounds, and washing the salt off of my face. I winced, hissing, as the water entered the wounds, but sucked it up. It's your fault, idiot; no use complaining.

After I got dressed, I made my way downstairs, but stopped before I entered the living room. My very breath caught at the sight that greeted me. Kanda sat at an easel, fully concentrated on the sunrise visible through the bay windows, painting every detail as precisely as a photograph. Except more… raw. More magnificent. More wild. More like Nature, more like him.

I slid down onto the floor and sat, quietly watching, until I dozed off again, leaning against the door frame.

Poor Allen, he's having a really tough time. But I promise things will improve.

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As always, thank you to everyone who has read, followed, reviewed, or favorited!

Love,

-Red