Disclaimer - I do not own D Gray Man

Please Bestow Upon This Child Your Love

"Mana! Wake up Mana! Mana!"

Jarred from a state of blissful unconsciousness by the voice that was calling out to him and the pressure of small hands on his shoulder, Mana Walker forced his eyes to open and as he gazed up he saw the frantic, tear filled eyes of his son Allen. The child was gazing down at him and Mana realized for the first time that he was lying on the ground. The man attempted to get to his feet, to even move, and was rewarded with a flash of pain.

Thankfully his brain was still somewhat fuzzy and he only vaguely registered the painful impulses fired off by his nerves. The darkness was approaching him once again and Mana was fully prepared to allow it to take him away from this world of pain. He didn't really have the strength left to fight it and he was so tired.


The plaintive note in Allen's voice pulled on Mana's heartstrings and, with his thoughts focused fully on his son, he returned to full alertness. Glancing out of the corner of his eye he saw the wrecked carriage and vaguely he recalled the accident, a runaway carriage that had came careening toward them. He hadn't been able to get out of the way but thankfully it looked as though Allen had escaped the incident unscathed.

At least physically.

"A. . . Allen. . ."

Mana's voice was so weak that he almost didn't recognize it himself and from the feeling of lightheadedness and the pain in his body he was fairly certain that he was not long for this world. Having been pulled back from the brink of death once before, by the magic that his brother had wielded, he knew what approaching death felt like. He could feel the darkness calling out to him, beckoning for him to come to a place where there was no pain.

No sorrow.

And yet despite this welcome respite from the pain Mana didn't want to obey the call to just give in. The look in Allen's eyes made him want to fight against this. No, not just to fight against it but to win. He desperately wanted to get up and go about the life that he had been building with the little boy.

Allen had grown to be the most important person in his world since the day that he had adopted the child and he desperately wanted to quell the little boy's fears. Wanted to tell him that everything would be alright and that the two of them would go on about their lives. Would travel to new places and see things that the child would be able to tell his grandchildren about someday.

But alas Mana knew that this wasn't meant to be.

He could practically feel his soul slipping away from this place, felt the pressing urge to flee this broken body, and he felt the need to impart upon Allen a few parting words before it was too late. It wasn't that he wanted to die, far from it in fact, however he had been resigned to the inevitability of death ever since the day that he had watched the light fade from his brother's eyes.

Death was simply something that everyone experienced, sooner or later.

"Mana. . ." Allen once again called out to his foster father. Desperately called out to the one person in his life whom he had always been able to count on. To the man who had taught him self worth, taught him that he was worthy of love. "Mana. . . get up."

Fighting against the pain Mana pulled himself up as far as he could and reached out a hand toward his son. Reaching out he gripped the child's wrist just above the top of the green mitten that his son used to cover the deformity of his left hand. This arm was the reason why the child had been abandoned and everyone save for Mana both feared and despised him for it. Mana had never understood the reasoning behind this thought but that wasn't really all that surprising since most people were a complete mystery to him.

The injured man couldn't make his voice any louder than a pain filled whisper but he was determined to say these words to the child. He needed to hear them. "Allen, listen to me. No matter what happens. . . no matter what, don't stop. Keep walking."

The child that was kneeling on the ground before him didn't want to hear the words that Mana felt he needed to say. He shook his head as though that would make everything go away. "Don't talk like that Mana. Get up."

"Never stop. . . always keep walking. . ."

Tears fell from the child's eyes as he once again shook his head. Despite his young age he was familiar with heartache and he knew what his foster father was preparing him for. And he wasn't ready. "I need you," the child called out in a plaintive voice. "Don't leave me alone!"

Mana's grip on the child's slender wrist only tightened as he fought against the rapidly approaching darkness. He could tell that he didn't have very much time left and he needed to make sure that Allen, that his precious son, took this one final lesson to heart. "Always keep walking Allen. . . until the day. . . you die."

And with those words the grip that Mana had held on the child's wrist slackened and he allowed his hand to fall to the ground. He no longer possessed the strength to maintain his semi upright position and he allowed his head and shoulders to fall to the ground as well. His breathing was becoming more labored and he could feel his lungs beginning to fill with fluid.

The end was not far off.

He had wanted to watch Allen grow up, to see what kind of man the kind hearted child would turn into. Allen had progressed so much from the damaged child that he had first encountered and he couldn't have been prouder of his son.

Mana knew that, despite everything that life had thrown in his path, Allen Walker would do great things.

He could barely feel the pressure from the child shaking him and the words that Allen was speaking to him were no longer registering in his dying brain. He knew that this was causing his child pain and for that he was sorry but he was powerless to fight the growing blackness.

"No, Mana. . . wake up. . . please don't go. . . don't die and leave me. . . MANA!"

As the light began to fade, the pain to recede and the voice of his son to grow fainter Mana only had one wish to offer up to the powers that be. He wanted nothing for himself at this point, didn't want to beg and plead for his soul. No his final thoughts were focused solely on his son. He hoped that someone would take pity on his son and offer the child a place to call home and someone to call family.

"Please," he thought as he slipped away, as though willing the universe to grant him this one final request. "Bestow upon this child your love."

A/N - well this one definately has a depressing feel to it doesn't it? I came up with the idea for writing this fic while listening to the Fourteenth's song so I blame that. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this depressing work of my insane mind. For now the music has ceased but rest assured that it will resume. The Musician