I AM THE AU MASTAH. BOW BEFORE ME. XDDDDD I'm getting excited. I think I've got all the letters of the alphabet, AND I'm writing more AUs. They're fun to write because they're so different. Anyways, R&R? But I ain't begging.

"And that's all for tonight, idiots. Watch your backs, brush your teeth, go vote, and most importantly, don't bother me with your problems. From 25.1 ZIPX, this is Doctor Love signing off. RIP baby brother, and know I miss you."

Malik watched the "On Air" sign flicker off, and he sighed. He hated his job: what started as a radio program at his college had climbed the ranks until he was the most popular man in the country. His buddies had told him he had a sexy voice, and he was wrangled into helping them with their show—about love and shit—to take his mind off the death of his brother. Now, he was on the air every night, raking in a ton of money, and he had paid off his debt to the college and the funeral home.

"Great job, Malik," his station manager said.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can I go home now?"

The man laughed. "Sure thing. See you tomorrow at ten."

He walked out of the shady looking building and began walking down the street.

"Here's your flower, mister."

He looked to the small girl standing there, holding a single purple flower from the park, her younger brother sucking his thumb and holding her hand. Their clothes were ragged and threadbare, and Malik often gave them quite a bit of cash for the flower she would "sell" to him every day. Malik smiled softly and ran his hand through her greasy hair.

"Thank you, Lucy. How's your mother?"

She looked at the sidewalk, and her brother stepped closer to her. He wasn't actually her brother, but an adopted homeless boy.

"She killed papa, then killed herself."

Malik was shocked. "What?"

"She told us to run so papa wouldn't beat us, and when we were returned, there was a gun in her hands and blood everywhere. We ran away, Dessie and me."

He stared at the two children. Desmond wasn't more than three, and Lucy wasn't more than seven. Malik surreptitiously glanced around the streets, and then he squatted down to their level.

"Where will you go now?"

Lucy shrugged. "I don't know, but you still need your flower, so we can't leave yet."

Malik frowned and looked at Desmond, who was watching him with big brown eyes. He had his thumb in his mouth and his hand tightly clasped by Lucy. The boy blinked as he watched the DJ. Malik offered his hand after clasping the flower gently between his teeth, and Desmond looked at it.

"Go on, take his hand. You know you can trust him, Dessie. He's been good to us."

Desmond continued to stare at the hand, and Lucy let go of his hand. He looked up at her, and she gestured to him again. Slowly, the boy reached out and took his hand.

"You got one arm."

Malik smiled again at the boy's words. "Do you want to come live with me?"

"What?"

He looked at Lucy and nodded. "I have to stop by Kadar's grave to give him your flower, but I'm sure he'd love to meet the young children I've talked about so much."

Lucy shook her head. "We couldn't. We'll go to the orphanage—"

Malik rose, scooping Desmond up with his arm. "No, you'll come with me. I don't like the orphanage here. We'll go shopping tomorrow for clothes, and we'll get you to a better school."

"And mommy?" Desmond said. "Lucy said she shoted herself."

"Don't worry about her."

Lucy hugged him tightly, and Malik felt himself smile, again. He'd have to watch it, or his reputation as a sourpuss would be spoiled. She clung tightly to his open side, and Desmond was holding the flower with his free hand. He walked with the children, asking no questions, until they arrived at a small graveyard. At a small gravestone sat a man, hunched over and silent. He ignored him as he sat next to him.

"Lucy, Desmond, meet my brother, Kadar. Kadar, this is the flower seller I told you about."

"Are you talking to the stone?" Lucy asked, sitting on half of his lap.

The man beside him watched the children closely. Desmond gently touched the stone after Malik took the flower. Those big brown eyes watched him as he set the flower in front of the grave. It looked out of place against the bouquets of flowers on either side of the marble stone.

"Who are you?" Lucy asked the other man.

"Altair."

"Why are you here?"

There was silence. After a little bit, Altair looked back at the headstone.

"He was the one who killed my brother and made me lose an arm."

Lucy was silent.

"Why friend?" Desmond asked, looking at the other man.

Malik scoffed. "That idiot is not my friend. I cannot forgive him after all he's taken from me."

"But think, Mister Al-Sayf, if he hadn't died, you wouldn't have met us," Lucy said.

Malik's eyes widened when he saw Lucy's hurt gaze. He pulled her into a tight hug, and halfway chuckled as his eyes watered when Desmond whined and begged to be included. He held them close, and he took a shaky breath. He had gotten so close to these two kids, having been buying a single purple flower for Kadar's grave every day for four years. He had listened to their every story about their mother stepping in the way of beatings meant for them, and given them hundreds of dollars (that was the price those pesky violets Kadar liked so much often went for from her, since she never had any change) from all of the violets. He had taken Lucy out for ice cream and bought Desmond spiffy light-up shoes. He had paid the mother's medical bills and mortgage. He had invested so much in them. There were some perks to being famous: money, for one.

He could almost hear Kadar laughing at him for getting so upset over his death, and he kissed each of the kids on the head. He could hear Kadar telling him not to be so down and depressed and to take care of the kids—he missed his brother's kind spirit sometimes. He held the kids close for several minutes before looking up to find Altair missing. He scowled and scooped Desmond up.

"Come: let's go home."

He guided them back to his house. It was a tiny place near his workstation in the heart of the city, but it had been built for him and Kadar. Now, it had been built for him and his two kids. With a sigh, he had Lucy fish out his keys and open the door. He had been lucky to have met the kids so young before the beatings could affect them too badly. She ran in, excited, and Desmond was content in his arm, those adorable, big brown eyes wide as he looked around, his thumb still stuck in his mouth. He smiled softly as he watched the blonde girl go running around, exploring every room.

After Desmond had squirmed from his arm and had tentatively started exploring, he herded them into the bathroom and watched as Lucy bathed her brother and herself, excited at the prospect of a warm shower with lavender soap. It had been Kadar's, and he had never had the strength to throw it away, but he felt as if these two may be the key for him to move forward. Leaving them to bathe—Lucy had made it quite clear she could clean herself and her brother—he made them dinner, the first one he had made in a long time.

Lucy was bouncing with excitement when the three sat down to eat, and by the time he had gotten them in the only bed in the house—a queen-sized one that was snugly fit against the wall in the tiny room—they were out cold. Desmond was tucked under his arm, and Lucy was lying across his chest.

For the first time since the death of his brother, he felt at home.

The next day, he arrived to the station three hours late to find the rush-in frantically trying to calm the flood of angry callers. Lucy and Desmond were dressed in Gymboree clothing. Desmond had a blue octopus shirt with blue plaid pants and a new pair of shark light-up shoes Malik had caught him eyeing at Payless, and Lucy had on a Batik print dress with flower sandals. Malik would have to watch himself: they were too much fun to spoil. They were amazed by the station.

Malik scowled when his manager came rushing up. "Where the Hell have you been, Malik?"

"You idiot, I bet you didn't check your cell phone, did you?"

The manager looked startled, then pulled his phone from his pocket and muttered, "What's up with the kids?"

"If you had half of the brains necessary to know to check your phone, you would know. Come on, Lucy, Desmond."

They followed him into the room, and the replacement looked relieved to see him.

"And just walking in is the Doctor himself. Here's your regular DJ, Doctor Love!"

He was at the speaker before he knew what was happening. Desmond was on one knee, and Lucy on the other. Leaning in, he spoke.

"Hello, all you assholes and idiots. This is Doctor Love of 25.1 ZIPX. Don't get your hopes up: I had one 'exciting' evening last night, so I'm not interested in listening to you. I've got two people here I want you to pay attention to. If you can't tell me their names by the time I start accepting calls, I'm hanging up."

He pulled the mike to Lucy.

"Me?"

"Yes, you," he said as he laughed quietly. "Go on, introduce yourself."

Lucy leaned up on the dashboard. "Hello?"

Malik nodded, and he smirked as his manager looked as if he might pull his hair out from straying from the script.

"Hello! I'm Lucy, and my brother's name is Dessie. He probably won't say much, so I'll tell you his name for you. I sell Doctor Love," she giggled, "his violet flowers from the park! After my mommy died protecting us yesterday, he adopted us. Say hello, Dessie!"

She coaxed him into pulling his thumb out long enough to talk.

"'M Desmond. Lucy calls me Dessie."

Malik kissed his head and leaned in again. "You heard it straight from their mouths. I'm now in charge of these two kiddos, and if you want me to listen to your call tonight, you dumbasses need to know their names—"

"Lucy and Dessie!" Lucy shouted into the microphone.

"to get even me to acknowledge you exist. And I know that your powers of retention are as wet as a warthog's butt, so I'm not expecting to answer many calls tonight. For now, enjoy some peaceful elevator music."

And sure enough, he switched on the most annoying elevator music he could find as he assembled a playlist for the next hour or so. Once he was done, he switched it off.

"And now for more exciting music. Why do I torture myself by playing that crap?"

He leaned back in his chair as his manager came storming in. "What the Hell, Malik?"

Malik gave him a passive glance. "My show, my rules. You wrote the contract, novice."

"Seriously? Your kids?"

He rolled his eyes. "Go make them a sandwich or something. Just get out."

The day passed quickly as he let the kids talk over the air and showed them the building. When five rolled around, he let them in as he stopped the music. "All right, unfortunately, it's that time of day again, where all of you suckers who have jobs now jam my phone line in futile hope I'll actually care enough to talk to you."

He flicked a few more switches.

"What are you doing?" Lucy asked.

"I'm getting our first caller. Hello? This is Doctor Love from 25.1 ZIPX. Who is taking up my precious time now?"

"Hello, I'm Andrea—"

"Tell me you're a man."

"What? No, I'm not."

Malik sighed. "Okay then, Andrea, give me the passwords, and I'll give you advice."

"What? Passwords?"

"They were announced earlier."

"Yeah!" Lucy said. "I told you our names were Lucy and Dessie!"

Malik stared at the girl briefly before laughing quietly. It quickly turned into a belly laugh, and he struggled to get it under control. It had been years since he laughed like that. The phone line was silent as he ruffled Lucy's hair and kissed her head. She pouted and fixed it.

"Well, looks like you've been given a free card. What's the passwords?"

There was silence for a moment before a squeal was heard, and Desmond stuck his fingers in his ears. Malik sighed: this was a bad way to start the night.

"Oh, my, God! Did you seriously just laugh? That was the sexiest thing I have ever heard! Holy crap! Oh my God!"

Without a second thought, he hung up on her and picked up the second caller.

"Yo, this is Doctor Love. Mention the laugh, and I hang up, got it, idiot?"

"My name's Hector Caveniski. Your children, Lucy and Desmond, are adorable. I've been listening all day."

"I'm glad you think so. Otherwise, I'd have to find you, Hector Caveniski, and kill you."

"I never would have guessed you're a family man."

"Neither would I have. What's your damn problem?"

"Well, now that I know you can handle kids as well, I'm changing it a bit. My fiancé has two kids I take care of because her kidneys are failing. Her mother isn't fit to care for them, but if she dies before we're married—"

"The go ahead and fill out the papers to be married. It's not that hard, you idiot."

There was silence. "Down at the courthouse?"

"That's what I said, you idiot. You don't have to have the ceremony to get married."

"Can we meet up with him sometime?" Lucy asked. "I'll pick a violet for his girlfriend."

"Perhaps later, kiddo," Malik responded.

He could hear the smirk in the man's voice: "Well, Doctor Love has a soft spot for kids—"

He hung up without regret. The man was lucky they weren't face-to-face, or else he'd slug him. The night progressed with few hitches, and Lucy was having a grand old time bossing the others around when she assured Malik she had good advice. Desmond even spoke up a few times. It was his final caller that made him mad.

"Hello, this is—"

"Doctor Love, I know."

Malik frowned. "Then what's your problem, asshole?"

There was silence.

"Hello? Mister?" Lucy said. "It's rude to not answer a question."

There was a soft chuckle, and Malik's mouth dried. That laugh was gorgeous.

"I don't have a problem. I just wanted to call the infamous Doctor Love and tease him."

"I don't think so, novice," Malik spat.

"Come on, you're nothing more than a giant softie. You brought your kids onto your show. Aren't you a least concerned about all the cussing?"

Lucy huffed. "You should have heard some things mommy's boyfriend used to say."

"Oh really?" the man asked.

"You don't have a problem?" Malik growled.

"No, not reall—"

Malik hung up and leaned in. "Well, I'm afraid—"

"You shouldn't have hung up on him like that! What if he was lonely?" Lucy said, sounding concerned.

"People like that are out to cause trouble. They're called trolls."

"Like in the 'Three Billy Goats Gruff'?"

"Yes, and just as ugly as the troll in that."

Lucy made a disgusted sound.

"Well, that's all, finally. Looks like we're shutting down for the night, and I can finally go home and get away from you freaks. Remember: pray to your god, join a cult, do a rain dance, and most importantly, love your kids. They deserve it. This is Doctor Love from 25.1 ZIPX, signing off."

"And Lucy!"

"And Desmond…"

Malik smiled as the "On Air" sign flickered off.

He ignored the others as he walked out, letting Lucy say farewells. They walked out and down the street to the small park fifteen minutes away.

"I need a flower."

Lucy looked at him and beamed, running off to the small patches of green to find a wild violet to give him. As he watched her, he thought about how he had first seen her selling the flowers on the street corner, trying desperately to raise money. Malik had, at first, thought nothing of buying the small flower until he reached into his wallet and had her pull out the single bill he had: a twenty-dollar greenback. He let her keep it as he took the two violets he asked for to Kadar's grave.

Altair had been there then, and he was still there, every day, sitting quietly and saying nothing as Malik would tell his brother of the latest happenings. At first, Malik had been furious, but he learned to ignore him as the murderer kept the grave well-maintained and gifted it with fresh flower bouquets without a complaint. He didn't actually know anything except the facts that Altair had murdered his brother after drinking and driving, and that he hadn't touched alcohol since.

Soon, it had become tradition for Malik to buy a violet and give Lucy the biggest bill in his wallet. He had slowly gotten to know her and the fact that she lived nearby the park and that her father was abusive. Her mother always stepped between her and her father, and when Desmond joined the family, he started funding the family. He had never met the mother, and now here he was, planning to give the plot next to his brother to the woman who had protected hr kids.

He smiled when Lucy came running back, having found the perfect violet for him, and he nodded as he adjusted Desmond, who leaned against his chest and watched the passersby as they headed toward the cemetery. It was a small plot a couple of blocks from the park, and as they entered the gates, he saw Altair sitting there, his head hung as he rested his hands on his knees.

Lucy ran over and looked back as Malik walked over. He sat down and let her put the flower on the ground. Desmond was fast asleep in his arm. He gazed at the stone and the etched writing, almost smiling as Lucy started whispering to the grave so she wouldn't wake Desmond. She told him about how she starred in her first radio show and about the troll caller, and Malik would have sworn he saw Altair jerk at that story. The murderer spoke only a few words, but Malik thought it was interesting that Desmond woke and paid rapt attention to everything he said.

It was not until that night, after visiting Kadar's grave and wrangling Lucy into bed and curling in with Desmond, that he truly missed his left arm. It wasn't like before, where he missed it solely because he was limited by the fact he couldn't do things the same. This was a stomach-twisting, fist-clenching wave of depression.

He would never be able to hold both of the kids at the same time.

The next day, he brought a large folder full of legal documents into the radio station. Lucy was clinging to his open side with one hand, her other pulling Desmond along. He rolled his eyes when his manager insisted he find a babysitter, and he pushed past him to get to his station.

"Listen up, dumbasses," Malik growled into the mike, "my kids will be coming on here for a while to come, so you'd better get used to it. They're strong and healthy, and I'm stuck filling out all the damn paperwork for them, so you'd all better take a chill pill and shut up about my kids being here. I'm not wasting money on a babysitter if I have a perfectly good one here."

He flicked on the music and played several songs before he interrupted again.

"You know, I never realized how stupid the government was until I started filling out all this paperwork. I have to wonder just what they do with this. For example, these papers for Lucy's schooling, I bet they kill half the Amazon for these. Anyway, I'll be filing papers all day long, so stop bothering me with requests. I'm not listening—"

"I am!" Lucy said, and Malik chuckled.

He assembled a playlist and started playing it, leaning back to fill it all out. Lucy had a book and his old GameBoy Color special Pikachu edition. Desmond insisted on sitting in his lap, a stuffed tiger in his hands as he watched him fill out the papers. He shuffled through the day and the papers, sighing as he signed and signed and filled out and sent the interns running to get the children's information for him.

By the end of the third playlist, he had most of it done. By the time the call-ins were supposed to start, he had it done. The interns were having a blast playing with Lucy—Desmond seemed reluctant to do anything except sit in his lap, resting against his chest as he put away the papers. Desmond had taken a nap around noon after eating a cup of chicken noodle soup. Malik had to admit, he was enjoying having Desmond as a child. He flicked on the switches, swiveling the chair he was in so he could reach them without disturbing the boy, who was sucking his thumb as he watched Lucy in the other room.

"And now it's that unfortunate time where I have to sit and help you with your problems. This is Doctor Love, DJ of 25.1 ZIPX, here with my son, Desmond, to sit and give you the advice you need—advice that any idiot worth his salt would know. Who's the first caller?"

The phone picked up.

"Hi, my name is Torrie!"

The night passed with few difficulties and only two hang-ups. By the end of the night, Desmond was fading quickly. He listened as the line was answered.

"Hello, you've reached—"

"Doctor Love, my new best friend."

Desmond perked up at the sound of his voice, even going so far as to pull his thumb out and stare at the speaker. Malik frowned.

"Who are you?"

"I don't see why that matters."

"You just got the first reaction from my son all day. He's staring straight at the speaker."

"I feel loved. I don't see why you hate everybody so much."

He scowled. "Why should I be nice when there's so little to smile about? I make a living giving common sense to people, run a show where my listeners enjoy hearing people get called out on their common sense. I've lost my brother and arm to a drunk driver when I could be out doing something else with my life. I could be a doctor, a cartographer, or a history professor."

There was silence on the other line as he scowled at the speaker. Desmond eventually placed his hands on near the speaker and went to speak, but the caller beat him to it.

"You realize that you've just given yourself away. I have seen only one man with one arm and two kids."

Malik snarled. "Shut up, you damn idiot!"

"I hope the cameras get you, since your popularity is so wide."

"I hope the crows here get you, you arrogant asshole."

"Now, now, there's no need to get testy. People love you for your attitude."

Malik snarled and rose, near dropping Desmond. "You son of a bitch! You're lucky I can't find you, or I would rend you limb from limb!"

"Trust me," came the soft reply, "you would've done so before I ever called you."

He felt Desmond tug on his sleeve, and he looked at his child, who was staring at him with those huge brown eyes. He felt his anger vanish instantly, and he frowned.

"What?"

"Man at rock with letters."

"What?"

Malik studied him, and Desmond was watching him intensely, hugging the tiger close and sucking his thumb.

"Man at rock," he urged. "Sounds like the man at rock with letters."

"What?"

"I don't know. Your kid's gone crazy."

"Shut up, you asshole. I don't want another word from you."

He hung up, forgetting the speaker was still on. "Desmond, what are you talking about?"

"He is the man at the rock with letters," he repeated.

Malik was silent for a few minutes before he leaned into the mike. "This is Doctor Love of 25.1 ZIPX. Thanks to my personal troll, I may end up retiring. Remember: tip your waitresses well, keep your buddies' secrets, and don't be a troll."

Without waiting for his manager, Malik fled the station with his kids through the back door, panicking at the crowd all ready gathering in front of the main door. He skipped the park and ushered them to his house, feeling immediately guilty for skipping seeing Kadar.

"Why didn't we go see your brother?" Lucy said.

"I don't enjoy attention, and I have a feeling I will be the center of it for the next several weeks."

Malik hid well for the next couple of days, but eventually, his guilt and need of keeping a job forced him to go back to work. After dropping Lucy off at school, he walked with Desmond in his arm to the station, slipping in the back.

"Where the Hell have you been!" his manager screamed when he stepped in.

Malik frowned when Desmond covered his ears.

"We've been flooded with calls and visits to meet you ever since that guy sold out your name!"

He pushed past him and walked into the sound booth, holding Desmond tightly. "Don't let them in. Keep them out. I don't want my face known or my kids in danger."

"Goddamnit, don't you see this is the break you need to really hit the charts?"

Malik set Desmond down and slugged the manager, hard. "My show, my rules. You want me to keep your station famous: you do what I say. I'm one step away from calling it quits and moving the Hell away from here. I don't want the fame and glory. I did this because my college buddies needed a man to help them get a good grade, and I continued because someone needs to be the voice of reason for others. I'm in this to provide for my kids. If it were just me, I would have quit. Now get the Hell out of this sound booth, and keep the others the Hell away."

When he sat down and set Desmond in his lap again, he noticed the "On Air" sign was all ready lit up. He was in for it now. Desmond gave him a concerned look.

"What's wrong, daddy?"

Malik froze, staring at his boy. He felt Desmond tug at his sleeve, and he could do nothing but stare at him.

"Daddy?"

With a trembling hug, he whispered, "I'm worried for your sake and mine, Desmond. The world is full of idiots and crazy men like your father who want nothing more than to hurt you."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Desmond." He kissed Desmond's head. "But I'll be damned if I let some crazy mother fucker take you from me like that drunken murderer took my brother."

He took in a deep breath, trying to pause the tears briefly before he leaned into the mike. He voice was shaky. "Morning, assholes and crazies. This is Doctor Love of 25.1 ZIPX, reporting in after several days of lying low. I'm here for the long haul, ready to help more of you stupid people answer simple problems. We'll be taking requests as is usual from noon until three."

He wasn't surprised to hear police sirens outside later on that day. When he had settled down for lunch, he heard his manager enter the sound booth.

"You've got the news and media posted outside that door."

"I heard the police," Malik said flatly, opening a thermos of warmed vegetable and beef soup for Desmond.

"You oughta have more faith in the world, Malik."

"I have plenty of faith—faith that it's going to shit. It's trust I lack. Know the difference, idiot."

The manager was silent as Desmond munched on a hunk of beef. He was looking back and forth between the two men, holding his stuffed tiger closely as he ate.

"I'm not willing to risk, on a throw of the dice, these two incredible gifts I've been given to help me heal from the loss of Kadar and my arm."

"You've had them for only two days."

"I've known them and provided for them for far longer."

Malik ran a hand through Desmond's hair, and the young child looked at him curiously.

"I only want their safety."

He felt the manager pat his shoulder before walking out. Malik ate in blessed silence, dreading when the evening would come. Requests were one thing: they said the song, and he played it. Helping others was another. His manager picked up Lucy, and Malik greeted her with a hug. He couldn't help but worry.