A/N: SushiBomb is back! Tests for this week are in the can, so I can focus on P.O.A. for a couple of days. Like literally as soon as I got home from school, I sat down with my craptop and hammered this chapter out.

Also, I wanted to mention that I'm a bit bummed at the lack of reviews this story is getting. I'm not a review whore or anything, and it makes me really happy to see all the hits P.O.A. has gotten since I posted it, but I would really love to know how everyone who's been reading it feels about the story. So please please please! Leave a review, even if its just a quick "Good Job!" or "Your story sucks go die in a fire (please don't say though, because I'm sensitive and I'll cry for days D: )" any little bit of feedback would be much appreciated!

Jeewiz…Anyway, this chapter is a bit different from the previous ones. It's the first angsty/dramatic piece for the collection. It's based on the song 'Ataraxia' by Team Sleep, which is a beautiful song and I highly recommend listening to it while reading this story. This is set in the past, when Bel first joins the Varia. I tried to keep them as in character as possible.

Alright, I'm done babbling. Here's the chapter! Enjoy!

VI. Ataraxia

Nights in the Varia Headquarters were relatively calm. When all the staff and lower ranking soldiers retired to their separate quarters for the evening, the six core members remained pretty much alone in the daunting castle. It was late into the evening one night, and one member still walked, or more accurately, floated down the halls.

Up until now, Mammon had been in the study, reviewing the Varia's financial statements. As the member with the most extensive knowledge of all things money, the mist arcobaleno took it upon himself to scrutinize the documents for any little accounting error, before presenting them to Vongola Nono the following day. For an appropriate fee, of course.

As he neared his personal suite, the baby heard the most unexpected sound. An assassin of his caliber, who specialized in the art of mental torture, had of course heard the sound of someone crying before; it pretty much came with the job. But to hear it within the Varia headquarters, in the absence of everyone but the officers? That was unheard of.

The soft weeping increased in volume as Mammon got closer to his room. Now it was starting to make a bit of sense. The only person who shared this wing with him was the new recruit. The young prince who had joined them not but a month or two ago.

Hmm…its happening a lot more often. Mammon thought to himself.

Something not many, if any at all, knew about Belphegor was that he had a severe case of Insomnia. In fact, the only person that was privy to this bit of 'highly classified' information was Mammon, since they were neighbors. Mammon would often hear the small boy shuffling about late at night, desperately trying to fall asleep. Sometimes he heard pacing. Other times, it would sound like the boy was talking to himself. About what, Mammon decided he'd rather not know. But crying? That was certainly new.

The mist guardian stopped in front of the door to the blonde prince's room. The barely audible crying began to die down a bit, until he heard only the occasional sniffle.

Mammon shrugged, pushing open the door to his room. As long as this didn't interfere with his money, he decided he couldn't care less.

"Voooooiii! You listening, munchkin?" Squalo screamed into the ear of a half-conscious Belphegor. The squad of young hitmen was out in the courtyard for their daily sparring and training session. Squalo was the one in charge, as Xanxus couldn't be bothered to come down from his room to train with them. So, as the temporary 'leader,' Squalo paired up and directed the others in practice matches.

Lussuria had just beaten Levi; a series of quick jabs from the Muay Thai master rendered the lightning user completely helpless before he could even whip out one of his parasols.

It was the prince's turn, and he was up against Mammon. Or at least it would have been, if the prince would scrape himself off of the tree he had taken to leaning against. Squalo, who hated having his authority disrespected, immediately stomped over, looking irate. As per usual.

"Voi brat! Let's get a fuckin' move on! It's you and the half pint next!" The rain guardian demanded again. Belphegor looked up at him wearily; trademark grin looking more like a grimace as he slowly rose from his perch on the ground. The blonde made his way to the makeshift ring in the middle of the stone courtyard, where the little arcobaleno waited patiently.

"About damn time…" Levi muttered. He was still sore about losing to Lussuria so quickly, and wanted nothing more than to return to his room and sulk the day away.

With the young child finally taking his place in the ring, the two combatants took their respective stances; Belphegor's knives materialized from where ever it was he kept them, and Mammon began conjuring up an illusion. The prince charged. A set of three knives tucked between his fingers, he made a clumsy swipe for what turned out to be an after image of the arcobaleno.

"Where are you Mammon? The prince will find you! Ushishi~!" The prince said with his now infamous snicker, as he slashed image after image, visibly getting more frustrated by the minute. He stopped for a breath, yawning slightly and rubbing his hidden eyes. From his hiding place, the mist illusionist could see the obvious exhaustion in the slumping shoulders of the boy. The usually upbeat and energetic child looked as if he would collapse any second.

He should end this quickly.

Thrusting out his illusionary tentacles, Mammon curled them around the prince's small torso, hoisting the boy several feet off of the ground. Belphegor kicked his little legs, trying in vain to free himself. Mammon materialized in front of him.

"Do you give up?" The mist guardian asked.

"No!" At this proximity, Mammon could hear the boys labored breathing and desperate grunts as he wiggled about in the vice-like grip.

"Give up." Mammon said again. Squalo hollered out to the two.

"Alright that's enough! The match goes to Mammon!" At the call, the infant released the small boy from his grip. The young storm guardian stumbled to his feet. Squalo walked over to him, head cocked slightly to one side.

"Hey kid, you alright?" He asked, for once at a reasonable decibal. He placed his hand on top of the crown of golden tresses. Belphegor slapped his hand away, smiling up at him with that cold, manic smile of his.

"The prince is fine, just… I'm fine." With that, the prince stormed back to the castle. The others just glanced at each other curiously before continuing their training.

The next night at dinner, it was obvious that something was not right with the royal child. The usually ravenous Belphegor merely picked at his Filet Mignon, and pushed his Vermicelli noodles around his plate, occasionally slurping up a mouthful.

With his chin resting in his palm, the boy was eerily quiet. This made everyone else at the table a bit tense, as Bel was the one who often initiated conversations (read: instigated arguments) between his fellow hitmen. In the short time he had been with them, Belphegor had made little mental notes about what pissed off who, and what to say to throw this person (usually Squalo) spiraling into a tantrum. The sadistic eight year-old had a knack for pushing the right buttons.

Mammon looked up at the boy next to him. The prince's head would occasionally slide tiredly down his flattened palm before he would snap back to attention, only to steadily droop again a few minutes later.

Lussuria, as the self-proclaimed mother/big sis/ female figure of their dysfunctional little group, decided it was time to say something.

"Hey Bel, honey, is something the matter? You look a bit under the weather,and you've hardly touched your steak." The others around the table looked up from their respective plates to hear the blonde boy's response.

None came verbally, but it was pretty obvious that the prince was glaring heatedly up at the flamboyant man. Belphegor didn't like being put on the spot when it didn't benefit him. He elegantly shook his mop of gold, hand returning to his eating utensils. He sniffed haughtily.

"The prince is fine." Squalo looked at him skeptically.

"Yeah right, that's what you said yesterday, when you were obviously about fuckin' fall over." He chuckled at the boy, but Belphegor just stared him down with the ferocity of a caged animal.

"Who asked you, dickhead?" He seethed back at the older boy. Belphegor had quite a colorful vocabulary for an eight-year old.

"Watch your mouth, runt." Xanxus warned from his end of the table. Belphegor just gave him a dirty look. He pushed his plate away in a huff, shoving back his ornate wooden chair and trudged out of the dining hall.

"Whatever. I'm not hungry anymore."

With the plate of leftover steak and noodles that the prince had ignored earlier in hand, Mammon glided down the hallway to he and Belphegor's wing. He figured he had it within him to occasionally be charitable enough to do nice things for people for free, and he was certain that by now, the arrogant young prince was starving. He patted Phantasma's scaly head lightly.

"Hang in there Phantasma." The uruboros made no noise to express it's exhaustion at aiding the infantile illusionist to fly around. Normally, it wasn't a problem, but holding the rather heavy plate of food was wearing the mythical serpent down.

Mammon knocked lightly on the dark mahogany doors, delicately balancing the plate in one tiny hand. When he heard no answer, he let himself in, albeit a bit hesitantly.

"Bel?" After setting the plate on a nearby table, Mammon signaled for Phantasma to lower him to the ground, and began his search for the young prince on foot. He stroked the uruboros with something akin to affection as it tucked itself away in his dark Varia robe.

He heard the bath running through the doorway on the other side of the room. Shuffling over, Mammon called out to the homicidal prince again.

"Hey Bel- what?" The arcobaleno stopped as he felt something wet underneath his booted feet. A rather large puddle of water was accumulating in the walk-in closet which lead to Belphegor's bathroom. Mammon was starting to feel a bit anxious. He pushed open the heavy door to the bathroom. The floor was covered in a thin film of water, which was still running heavily over the side of the ornate bathtub. The blonde prince was lying in the tub, head leaning against one of the edges.

The small illusionist feared the worst.

He may not have known the boy for long, but he certainly didn't want him to die. Summoning Phantasma, Mammon floated over to child. Leaning in, he listened intently. He heard the boy's steady breathing and relaxed.

Good. He's just asleep. Mammon released the breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding as he shut off the tap.

"What are you doing in here?" The baby turned back at the irritated voice. Belphegor was sitting up, staring at the puddle of water in confusion, scratching at his wet hair. Apparently, the prince was a very light sleeper.

"I brought you some food…" Mammon wasn't really sure how to progress.

"And…you fell asleep in the bathtub." He said floating over to a rack at the opposite end of the room to retrieve a fluffy towel for the small boy, who had made to stand up. Belphegor suddenly plopped back down tiredly, settling for letting his arm and head hang over the edge of the tub.

"Bel, what's wrong with you?" Mammon asked in genuine concern, or at least as genuinely concerned as the baby could be, setting the towel back on the rack when he realized the prince wouldn't be getting out anytime soon.

"Nothing…" The child hitman ground out, before dunking his head under the water, popping back up with his mass of gold slicked back, exposing stormy grey orbs to the infantile mist guardian. Out of all of the members, Belphegor had no qualms about showing his face to Mammon, because he knew the greedy arcobaleno probably didn't care about the reason he hid it. But Mammon wasn't going to let him pout his way out of this. Whatever was causing the prince to lose sleep was becoming a serious threat to the boy's well being.

Belphegor angrily turned his head away from the arcobaleno who had now perched himself on the edge of the tub adjacent to the prince.

"Its obviously not nothing if you make it a point to act like a brat every time someone asks y-" Mammon was promptly silenced as water splashed his hooded face. Wiping his face with his sleeve, the baby glared at the blonde in the tub, who was glaring right back.

"That proves my point." Belphegor's eyes narrowed.

"Who asked you, you stupid baby."

"No one, but it's obvious you have a problem. I can hear you at night, walking around, crying." The prince's head shot up at that. His lips curled into a snarl that looked scarily out of place on the face of an eight-year old boy. Belphegor roughly grabbed him by the collar.

"It's none of your fucking business!" He screamed into the baby's face, shaking him lightly. Mammon was unaffected.

"Maybe not now, but what would happen if we got sent out on assignment and you got killed because you collapsed in the middle of a fight somewhere? That may sound silly, but the way you're going, it seems pretty likely."

Belphegor released Mammon's collar and settled back into his spot on the other side of the tub, pointedly looking away from the tiny guardian. In this lighting, Mammon could see the dark circles forming under his eyes quite clearly.

"It's hard for you, isn't it?" The baby asked quietly. Grey eyes looked at him with fatigue.

"What do you mean?" He asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"You know perfectly well what I mean, Bel. You don't sleep." Belphegor looked incensed.

"I do too sleep, stupid baby! You don't even know what you're talking about!" He shouted.

"Yeah, like when? Now? Are you aware that if I hadn't come in, your head would have eventually slid below the water and you probably would've drowned?" The baby's sharp tone silenced the young royal, for once.

Belphegor stared hard at the porcelain wall of the tub, biting his lower lip. His eyes were watering quickly.

Mammon sighed. He hadn't meant to be so derisive with the child, but it seemed that was what it took to get him to listen.

"Bel, come on. What is it?" He pressed.

"I…" The blonde released a shuddered breath. Running a pale hand through his wet hair, the prince hugged his knees to his chest, resting his cheek against one knee. His shoulders shook a bit.

"Mammon…" he whispered in the most pathetically small voice Mammon had ever heard. Tears were streaming down the boy's pale cheek, as he cried silently.

"I'm scared." Two eyebrows rose at the tiny declaration. He had never known the jubilant child to be afraid of anything.

"Of what?" Mammon asked, although in his mind, he already knew the answer.

"Going to sleep…" Belphegor whimpered, twirling a stray lock of gold around his petite finger. He hiccuped a couple of times, tiny tremors racking his small body.

"When I sleep, I always dream about my parents…and my brother…" Bel looked back up at him, look in his eyes completely disheartened.

Mammon understood now. He hadn't heard the whole story, but from what they (the Varia) knew about the youngest of their squad, before seeking them out, Belphegor had snapped and gone on a murderous rampage, killing his family in the process. To this day, he still hadn't told anyone the real reason why.

The boy curled himself up farther away into the corner of tub.

"Every time I close my eyes, I see them. They don't do anything…they just stand there and watch me." He whispered, taking a shaky breath.

The prince looked back over at the baby. "It's so scary…they just stand there the whole time, just staring at me, like dolls."

Mammon nodded in understanding.

"And I've been having this dream almost every night now. Then I can't fall back asleep." He sobbed.

"I don't wanna see them…but… I'm –I'm so tired, Mammon…I just want to sleep …" The boy finally let loose. Silent sobs racked the petite body as he cried into his knees, begging desperately for the rest that always seemed to elude him lately.

For one of the few times in his life, Mammon felt genuine pity on another human being. He considered himself to be of a relatively cold nature, as most hitmen were, but this boy, this child, curled up so tightly, crying to himself...

Mammon remembered when he had shown up on their doorstep. He remembered the purely maniacal look on the blonde boy's face, coated in blood from head to toe,as he smiled up at them, asking to join the Varia. That had only been about two months ago, but it felt more like two years.

Mammon glided over to the boy hesitantly. He looked so...so small, sitting alone in that giant bathtub, shuddered breaths escaping through the sobs.

With that grin that spoke volumes about his mental state, and his inborn superhuman abilities as a calculating killer, it was easy to forget that Belphegor was just a kid. They all were, really, but none of the Varia could say that they had been the ones to snuff the light from the eyes of their own parents and siblings. Despite being aware of his actions, the strain of such a traumatic event on the mind of an eight-year old child, even one as complex and brilliant as the Slasher Prince's, had to be beyond compare.

Behind one of the most vicious Mafiosos to ever walk this Earth, there was a scared and lonely little boy who dearly missed his family.

Beneath the madness, was the guilt.

For the second time that night, Mammon sighed. He knew what he had to do. What was worse, he had to do it without pay. Because really, what could the little prince possibly have to offer him? Besides, if nothing else, Mammon could comfort the child the only way he thought would help.

The infant began to hum. The barely audible music silenced the sobs of the petite prince, as the water in the bathtub churned slowly, being drawn into the illusion the Arcobaleno of Mist was conjuring. Belphegor wiped at his bloodshot eyes hurriedly.

"Mammon, what are you doing?" He whispered in a tiny, croaking voice. The hooded infant frowned lightly, shaking his head.

"Good grief, you're lucky I'm feeling generous today." Was all the arcobaleno said as the baby disappeared from view, leaving Belphegor alone in the illusion.

He was suddenly on a long stretch of beach. Looking down at his all white clothing, a button up shirt and loose fitting pajama pants, the prince wiggled his bare feet. The black sand felt smooth between his small toes as he walked along the shoreline.

He heard singing. It sounded strangely familiar somehow.

"It's beautiful…" he said to himself, feeling a tranquility he had never recalled experiencing in his short life. The melodious humming was getting closer. As he looked up from the dark sand, he saw the figure of a woman, also dressed in white, standing a ways down the shore. Her indigo hair reached just above her pale shoulders, bangs slightly obscuring two ice blue eyes from view. The white backless sundress she wore accentuated her lithe, willowy figure.

As he neared, she turned to him, still humming the surreal sounding melody. One side of her mouth tilted upward in a slight smile as she walked, no, glided toward him, almost as if she were a specter. He looked up at her through his long blonde bangs. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And yet, she seemed so familiar…

She said nothing, but wrapped her delicate arms around the small boy, pulling him into a gentle embrace. Belphegor pressed his tear-stained face into her flat stomach, as he relished the feeling of her dainty fingers soothingly combing through his golden tresses. His tiara was noticeably absent.

He yawned, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly drowsy. Closing his eyes softly, he rubbed his face into the mysterious woman's stomach as she leaned down to press a ghost of a kiss on his crown of blonde.

Belphegor felt himself drifting away, feeling an ease he'd give anything to feel again. As sleep steadily claimed him, the woman withdrew from the embrace, and he noticed a thin serpent bracelet hanging on her petite wrist. It was biting its tail, creating a circle out of its body.

Phew…and that's chapter 6 in the hole.

I think some explanations are in order:

1. Ataraxia is a Greek word for peace and tranquility, or an enlightened state of mind. If you really listen to the lyrics of the song (that is if you actually listened to the song, which I sincerely hope you did!) you'll understand the whole beach illusion a little better. The song adds a certain effect...I can't quite describe it, to that whole scene that makes it a bit more...dreamy. I hope that made some kind of sense.

2. Yes, that is Fem!Mammon, in case anyone didn't get the little hints. I know some (more like a lot, now that I notice) people dislike Fem!Mammon, but I actually find Mammon/Viper's character more appealing as a woman, rather than a man. To me, there is something decidedly female about Mammon, both in the anime, and in the manga as well. I can't quite put my finger on it, but the second I saw Viper as an adult, I was like 'whoa she looks cool!' Then when they started saying 'he,' I was like, 'wait...what?'

But oh well, I like Mammon either way. But you know, I hate that a lot of the characters in Reborn! that are actually interesting get virtually no love in this fandom. Boo. I hope to remedy that.

Excuse my mini-rant. I think that's all I had to say. Until next time!