Just a quick drabble- a spiritual successor of sorts to Forsaken.

Roses are red

Violets are blue.

I don't own D. Gray Man

So please do not sue ^^

…Everything hurt.

Allen moaned, struggling weakly against his bonds.

The pain consumed everything. It was his reality- all that tethered him to this cruel, cruel world. Sometimes, he thinks he hears Lenalee's voice- but it's gone as soon as it comes, leaving nothing behind. Nothing to hold on to. (Though Allen wants nothing more than to hold on to something solid.

Lenalee…make it stop. Make the pain go away…

(Lenalee had always made the pain go away.)

Nails driven deep into his hands. Blood covering his body; bare, naked...exposed… (He feels alone. Oh, so painfully alone.)

Bound to the cross, he suffers alone.

Bound to the cross, he cries.

Bound to the cross, their sins to atone,

Bound to the cross, he dies.

(A poem about Christ he remembered from his childhood. Funny that he should remember it now.)

It's dark. It's cold. He wants so much for the world to go numb, but it won't. (It never does.)

Once again, Lenalee's sweet voice brings relief to his torture. He wants to grab her, to stem the flow of her tears… (She sounds so sad. Her voice is shaking.) But once again, it's gone.

The Millennium Earl stands before him, wide smile mocking him in his agony. He starts to say something, and-

Allen jerks awake, chest heaving with great breaths.

He closes his eyes, running a shaky hand through his hair. (The silence is so deafening he can hear his own wordless screams echoing in his ears.)

He wishes for Lenalee. For Lavi. Hell, he'd even take Kanda. All he wanted was to reach out to someone, to hold on to something tangible. But then he remembers that his friends are far away...he had run away to protect them. To shield them, so they couldn't be hurt any worse.

Bound on the cross, he suffered alone

Bound to the cross, in pain.

Bound to the cross so that we could be free

And not have to suffer again.

"Oh, Lord," Allen wept silently. "If it be thy will, remove this cup from me."

God doesn't answer. (He never does.)

The silence is deafening.

The fic has been read.

The readers are blue.

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