Title: Training Begins

Summary: Allen finally begins training under Cross.


It's been about a year now since Allen was picked up by General Cross Marian and the boy was one year older and another year wiser to his Master's lies. He just finished returning from his morning errands when he was met with Cross sitting at the table, reading his paper. The boy was surprised to see his master up, let alone sober as he drank from his coffee (Allen was smart enough now to know that Cross's usual cup of coffee had such a high alcohol content that it made rubbing alcohol look like orange juice). At the sound of Allen closing the door behind him, Cross peeked over the edge of the paper.

"Good. Right on time," the general said, folding the newspaper closed. "I have something planned for us today."

Allen faltered in his step, eyes widening. His master's plans always ended with them landing in some type of trouble. The last time he uttered the phrase "I have something planned", Allen ended up with a master who was drunk beyond reasoning, a poor molested mop, and one pissed off bartender.

Allen sighed. "Will this involve us going to 'church' again?"

For all his church going ways, Allen doubted his master was a very religious person. Since when did churches have priests that served strong tasting drinks and nuns that had breasts bigger than their heads? Sure, Allen was thirteen and slightly retarded, but he was on to his master!

"I wish," the redhead said, downing the rest of his coffee. "No. This is different. Since you've proven to me that you're less of the dumbass that I thought you for, I decided it's time to begin formally training you to become the best exorcist since me."

Allen's jaw slightly dropped. His master was finally going to train him instead of stringing him along like some cheap work slave. He's finally made it!

Cross beckoned Allen over to sit with him at the oak table.

Cross drew a large circle with an angry face. "This is an akuma."

He drew a big X on the akuma. "Kill it. No exceptions."

Allen swallowed as he saw Cross's eye take on a sharp, serious tone.

"When you kill an akuma, you release the soul that's trapped inside. Your eye," Cross pointed to it as he leaned forward, "Is your trump card. So don't be a dumb fuck and trip over your own two feet and stab it out with that monstrous claw of yours."

Allen nodded.

Cross leaned back into his chair, pushing himself off to put his feet on the table.

"You gotta treat killing akuma like a business," he began. "There are three steps that will always guarantee you will live through another battle."

"What are they?"

Cross leaned forward and stood up.

"That's where your training begins.


Step 1: Get Ready


Allen found himself in an abandoned building with his Master. He stood stiffly in front of him as the redhead gave him the once over with a scrutinizing gaze. Allen swallowed thickly as the man bounced Timcampy in his hand as it were a ball.

"In order to be able to defeat an akuma, you're going to have to be in shape. Despite your kick ass arm, I want you to learn to defend yourself in case your arm goes to shit and you're left with nothing but your pathetic masculinity." Cross fished for a cigarette with his free hand.

"As of right now, you'd make the perfect bitch for an akuma."

Allen pouted, but nonetheless understood what with him being his Master's bitch and all.

"So, we'll start on the basics." Cross lit up his cancer stick. "Now Dodge."

"Huh—"

Timcampy was hurled straight at his face. The boy wasn't expecting his master to betray him like that. At the force of the large golem crashing into his face, Allen toppled backwards, the back of his head hitting the rock hard ground.

Allen cried out, curling into a ball as his hands immediately went to his face.

The white haired boy heard the sound of his Master's foot steps near him and he uncurled himself to look up.

"Get up," Cross said, menacingly.

Allen reached a hand up, hoping his master would help him up. Instead, he was met with Timcampy hitting him square in the face again. The boy groaned and flopped onto the ground.

"What did you learn just now?"

"That Timcampy hurts," Allen whimpered.

Cross rolled his eyes. "Besides that dumbass."

Allen pushed himself off the ground, getting on his knees. Cross chose that moment to bounce Timcampy on Allen's head. "That I—" Bounce. "—should be—" Bounce. "—more alert."

Slam.

"Good." Cross caught Timcampy on his way up.

Allen tried to get up again, his arms shaky now that he felt so weak. But his master thought his head needed more abuse and put his foot on the suffering boy's head.

"You have to always be on alert when you're on the attack," he said, pushing Allen down again. "The enemy will not wait for your dumbass to get up."

The redhead removed his foot.

"Now get up and try to suck less this time," he commanded.

After getting clocked in the face a couple of more times, Allen found himself finally succeeding in dodging, especially when Cross ordered Timcampy to follow Allen regardless because the boy had lots of snacks for the golem to eat. After another round of dodging Timcampy's sharp teeth, Cross called the golem off. Allen was panting from all the running and dodging. He was also very sweaty and tired.

"Good," Cross said tossing Timcampy aside. "If I actually cared, I'd say I was proud of you. But since I don't, I'm going to say that no matter how good you think you do, you'll always be a disappointment."

Allen frowned.

"Let's kick this up a notch, shall we?" Cross took out his gun. "Get ready kid."

Allen's eyes widened in sheer horror. He was quickly on his feet and dodged for his dear life, bobbing and weaving through broken wall structures in order to avoid Cross's onslaught of bullets.

"It's all apart of the program kid!" Cross shouted over his gun. "You're improving on dodging." Bang. Bang. Bang. "While I'm improving on aiming."

Allen had no choice but to activate his arm as it helped shield him from the hail of bullets. He decided it was now or never and after knocking a wall to create a cloud of dust, the white haired boy jumped through, bringing his clawed innocence down on his master. He stopped short about an inch from Cross's face, while Cross had his gun aimed at Allen's forehead.

Cross pulled the trigger and Allen squeezed his eyes shut.

"Bang."

The boy looked up at his master and then collapsed in a heap of exhaustion. All his muscles ached and the left over adrenaline only made his heart pound.

"Next time, finish your target off," his master warned, pocketing his gun.

"Even if it's you?" Allen asked from the ground.

"Especially if it's me," Cross glared. Then the general sighed. "Your unmanly and under developed form helps you move faster, but at the same time, your high pitched womanly screams will only send your enemies into a fit of hysterics."

Allen took in the criticism, all of which he couldn't really help since he was a thirteen year old boy.

"Are we done for today?" he asked, hoping to have his life spared.

"Hell no." Cross took out Judgment again and cocked the gun at Allen. "Breaks are for pussies. We're just getting started brat."

Allen whimpered when he found that he couldn't move his body.


Note: I've been gone a long time from this story, but I'm back and I'm determined to finish it. Now that Allen's a little older and more aware of how much of a bastard Cross is, expect Allen to be less innocent than he was before in previous chapters of the story. Also, thanks for reading!