A/N: So I know I said after Awakening that I wasn't going to write another SI-OC, but then I got to talking with Sakura Hyuga yesterday, and ideas were thrown back and forth, and suddenly, I wrote this chunk of a chapter! And just to let everyone know ahead of time, the SI-OC wakes up as Allen, but she is female, and not just mentally, but physically as well, just to keep things less awkward. Though she will be cross-dressing for most of the beginning. Other then that, please enjoy and let me know whether its worth continuing or not!(:

Disclaimer: Nope!(;

Chapter 1

Time Frame — Night of December 25th, 1883

—1st Person POV—

It has been two years now, but I can still recall my first memory of this world with ringing clarity. The all-encompassing darkness of death had been breached once I had opened my eyes. Blankets had swathe my miniature form and I had been scared. I couldn't move. I was stuck and the only thing in sight to bring me comfort was the brilliant full moon in the sky, drowning out everything else within my view. But it could not keep the chill at bay, and desperate, I'd allowed my wails to echo throughout the night, unable to form coherent words and pleas. And that was how the priest found me; bundled in a basket, a thin layer of snow blanketing me.

They had taken me in and spoken their words of comfort, soothing me to sleep and warming me up beside the roaring fireplace. Despite my fear and confusion and pain, I had consented to their reassuring warmth and love. But it had not lasted. Come the next morning, they had discovered my wretched and cursed limb. It took me almost a year to take a good look at it myself, actually. It was quite hideous and cringe-worthy, but that wasn't the reason why my heart had practically come to a stop and I had frozen in all-consuming horror as the realization slowly set in. It wasn't the reason why even now, I sometimes cried at night as my memories slowly dredged up the horrors to come. All that hadn't been caused by the ugliness of my arm; it had been caused by the brilliant, green crystal imbedded atop my hand.

God's Crystal.

I was an Exorcist.

I was Allen Walker.

Of course, the realization hadn't been instantaneous. I had battled with myself for months, wondering if I was simply going crazy. But the reality set in day by day as I was treated harshly. I was a monstrosity. No one could love me—or so my caretakers said. It hurt and the pain couldn't have been more real. Oddly enough, when I was finally confronted with my reflection, I had somehow expected pale, white locks and an angry red scar. But of course, my face was that of a baby, chubby and yet to be marked by the devil, with my hair a dark, rusty red. But the round, silver eyes had been all too familiar…

I was now two, and locked within a small, spare closet that was considered to be my room. They liked to keep me away from the other children. But really, it still felt like I was living a dream; a horrific and hellish nightmare that I was unable to escape from. Was this a punishment? Had I done an unforgivable wrong in my previous life? I wondered this to myself every night. And tonight was no different; I lay, curled in my ratty blankets, in the pitch black, my tummy empty and craving for food. Not even on Christmas night had they been generous enough to feed me dinner. Not when the other children had clamored for more and more.

I clenched my fists, trying to quell down the righteous anger within me. Bitterness and hate and anger; they were the only emotions I had come to know in this life. Whatever feelings of love and joy I had treasured in my previous life were starting to slowly dwindle away, rotting within the crevices of my mind as the resentment took over. And for the past year, the only thing I'd been able to focus upon was the life of Allen Walker; I'd taken his story, memorizing it and studying it and dreading it all. It took me a long time to realize that in the process, I was also losing myself. Everything that I knew about myself was becoming faded fragments and pieces of what I once knew it to be. My name; my family; my life; it was becoming lost to me.

And in a twisted sense, I had become Allen Walker by fixating myself upon him.

Time Frame — Night of July 3rd, 1887

Somehow, I was still girl (both mentally and physically). Funny how things worked, wasn't it? But of course, when Adington's Working Boy's Home opened up at my mere age of five, I had quickly been dressed in boy attire and shuffled along with the rest of the male orphans. The Home had then sent a complaint, claiming that I was much too young to be accepted, but the Church had played dumb, and when a representative was sent over, they wouldn't hear of it. Of course, I was all too happy to leave that wretched church. Even if all the other boys treated me like a servant around here. As long as I could keep my left arm wrapped up and hidden away, I knew I could survive.

At this point, being Allen Walker had become the least of my problems (even if that was the name I'd given the warden of the Home when asked). It was something I'd tried hard to forget, but it was difficult when I awoke every morning and was forced to practice using my left hand. It had always been stiff and tough to move, but if I didn't do my practiced stretches, I would be unable to get my chores done. In the grand scheme of things, a single punishment didn't appear to be much, but I was living day by day, pushing myself to complete every grueling task demanded of me so that I could actually earn my dinner (something I'd been unable to do at the church orphanage).

It was a hard, strenuous lifestyle, but a small part of me had become confident; confident in the fact that maybe I could outrun this war.

But that confidence had been shaken.

Nothing truly awful had happened. But when I heard the excited murmurs of the other boys, I had momentarily gone into a panic, my thoughts going haywire as memories of this hellish story I was living in were unearth.

The circus was in town.

Truly laughable, wasn't it? Maybe I'd finally lost it! But if paranoia was going to help me survive, then I wouldn't begrudge it. Still, it was hard to forget that part of the story; where Allen was forced to deal with bastards like Cosimo. And thinking of that practically dragged the rest of the storyline to the forefront of my mind. I still hadn't decided what I would do if I was forced into all of this; what side I would take; who I would fight for—I may have been given the same role as Allen Walker, but by no means did I have the same goals as him.

There was also one thought that had been niggling at the back of my head…

Neah Walker.

I was conflicted. To make contact with him or to not make contact with him; that was the question.

… But either way, he would be my death.

I almost snorted, and I had to clamp my hand atop my mouth to muffle the noise. No need to wake up any of the bratty kids sleeping around me. With a soft sigh, I curled further into my cot, tugging my blankets higher, and wondering what decision I should make. Awakening the Noah would for sure drag me into this war sooner rather than later, but it was inevitable. I would be unable to stop his coming, and part of me just wanted to get it over with. Death with a little dignity. (Not something I'd had the pleasure of experiencing.)

With a small huff, I made a rash decision and clenched my eyes close. I didn't have a clue as to what I was doing. I simply imagined Allen's dreamscape in my head. And slowly, but surely, I could feel myself drifting to sleep… So much for that idea…

"It… worked?" I murmured, eyes blinking in astonishment at my surroundings. I found myself kneeling beside a lake; no reflection lay upon it; it was simply an inky and impenetrable black. The sky was a gorgeous navy blue dusted with stars, and an enormous crescent moon hung in its midst. "So it's all really true…" I choked on my own voice, trying to accept the reality set before me. I then took a shaky breath and cautiously rose to my feet, warily turning and following the brick path, colorless trees stripped bare of their leaves crowding on either side. It felt as if I were stumbling along in a daze, but I pushed myself to continue forward.

"Neah…?" I called cautiously, once I spotted the throne he was chained to, my voice tinged with fear and disbelief. But I received no response. I stepped closer, and once I stood before him, I realized why: he was asleep. I bit my lip, feeling indecisive and a little frightened. This was happening so fast; only moments ago had I contemplated whether I was crazy or not, but now—now I was standing before a real life Noah! For the second time that night, I chose upon another stupid decision…

I cautiously reached my hand up to him, and shook him by the arm. I was shaking slightly, and I could feel my mouth drying with anticipation as he roused from his slumber, brilliant gold eyes fluttering open.

"I'm… alive?" he murmured sluggishly, frowning in confusion as any and all movement was prevented by the rattling chains. I stumbled back nervously, unfortunately drawing his attention. Neah paused, staring at me inquisitively. "… Who are you? Where am I?"

I gaped. "Y-you don't know?" Had this not been his plan all along? To awaken as soon as possible and overtake the body of Allen?

"No, I—" he paused, appearing frustrated as he tugged at the chains constricting his every movement. "Why have you tied me up?"

I stumbled back further, tempted to run away, but nonetheless replied in a shaky voice, "I-I didn't do it… but it's the only thing holding you back from killing me."

He stared at me, incredulous, and maybe it was just my imagination, but I thought I saw a little bit of guilt peeking through. Neah attempted to relax as he responded quietly, "I am not so horrible I would resort to killing children…"

"But I'm not a child," I answered with a small crease to my brow, wondering why—that's right. I was still sometimes guilty of forgetting that I resided in the body of a five-year-old girl. The thought was so disconcerting, that I attempted to not dwell on it often.

"Then what are you?" Neah demanded, now observing me suspiciously, fists clenching upon the armrests of the throne.

I took another step back, and then paused. Fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, I finally retorted a bit anxiously, "I'm… I'm Allen…" I cautiously glanced up at him, and the moment my moonlit eyes made contact with his, he gasped sharply. He gazed at me intently for what felt like an eternity.

"B-but how…? How is it possible?" Neah gazed at me anxiously, wide, amber eyes demanding answers of me. But I shook my head mutely in response, just as confused. Once upon a time, I'd loved reading D. Gray-Man, but unfortunately, I'd never gotten a chance to reach the ending. I didn't have all the answers. "Just answer me this," Neah pleaded, "How long has it been?"'

I parted my lips, and then paused, swiftly doing the math in my head; Cross had told Allen 35 years, but I was currently five, so… "I believe it's been 25 years," I replied quietly, watching for his reaction with unease.

"S-so long…?" he stammered dazedly. He then sent me a sharp glance. "What's happened since then?! Have the Noah already reincarnated? Is Mana still alive? Where's Cross? Has another war broken out already?! Shit! 25 years! Allen, tell me what the hell is going on!"

I think it was in that moment when my fear was replaced with anger. Beneath his penetrating gaze, I straightened up and glared at him full force. "Do you think I know any better?! I'm five! Who tells any of this to a five-year-old?! Especially one they got rid of and tossed into an orphanage?!"

"T-they what?!" Neah stammered, appearing flabbergasted. He then slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Can you… can you at least tell me what you know?"

I gazed at him with scrutiny, wondering how he would react if I were really to tell him everything I knew. With a small huff, I attempted to relax (even though his presence still made me slightly nervous, now that my anger was no longer clouding my thoughts). "I… I don't really know much of anything of what's happened in that time. Most of those memories were erased. You're lucky I even remembered you were locked up here," I tossed him a pointed glare, and he wilted slightly, already appearing somber because of my words. "I don't know how many of the Noah have reincarnated, but it hasn't been enough to start up the war again. And yes, Mana still lives." Here, he appeared to be a mixture of miserable relief. "Who knows what Cross is doing, but he's certainly still alive. And the Order is just doing the usual; collecting Innocence and fighting against Akuma."

Neah scoffed, a bitter smile now in place. "It seems they still haven't realized that what they're doing isn't enough. If they want to have any sort of advantage, they need to go after the source."

I tilted my head in thought, and wondered out loud, "The Akuma Egg Plant?"

He glanced at me, seeming slightly surprised. "How much do you remember?"

"Um, not much," I shrugged, scuffing my foot against the ground. "Just words and snippets. Nothing much to get excited over…"

"You know," Neah remarked, "You still haven't explained why you were reverted back to a child, or where we are…"

I sighed and lifted my shoulders in a small shrug. "I don't know. Maybe it was to better hide from the Earl? Maybe it was to give me a longer lifespan? I really don't know. What I do know is, is that your memories have been implanted within me. We are currently residing within my mindscape. Once you're able to escape those chains, you'll slowly kill away any semblance of my being that dwells here. And once I'm dead, you can easily make use of my body."

Neah gaped at me, sunlit eyes wide with shock. He then wilted in front of me. "This was Cross' doing, wasn't it? But… why did you go along with it, Allen?"

Yes, Allen, why did you go along with it? I wondered to myself. But I simply smiled. "I don't know why you keep on asking me these things like you expect me to instantly remember. I don't know. But if I had to guess… You're the only one who has a chance against the Millenium Earl. After all, he is your brother."

With a small jolt, I realized the world around me was crumbling away. Was I finally waking up?

"Wait! Allen!" Neah called.

I shrugged helplessly, and waved at him as I disappeared from his sight.

A small groan escaped my lips as I sluggishly flickered my eyes open, wincing from the bright rays of sunlight streaming through the windows. It took me a moment to gain my bearings, and when I did, it wasn't to a situation I had expected myself to be in. Lifting my head slightly, I frantically roved my eyes over the crowd of whispering boys surrounding my cot. They were already a good distance away, but when they noticed my rousing, they instantly backed up, their murmurs becoming all the more frantic as they shot me frightened glances.

Warily, I sat up on my cot, my own eyes widening in horror as I took note of the unraveled cloth no longer concealing my hideous left arm. "Oh no!" Quickly as possible, I began to frantically wrap the ratty fabric back around my arm. But it was too late!

"What is going on around here?!" the warden demanded as he stormed into our dormitory. In response, every single boy pointed accusingly in my direction, and the teenage boy that had been accompanying the warden, declared, "That's the boy, sir! He's the one with the demon arm! It's no wonder the church did everything in their power to rid themselves of him!"

"Shut your mouth boy," the warden growled when it appeared that the mouthy boy wasn't about to pause any time soon. He stomped over and towered above my cot, and I cringed as he demanded, spittle flying everywhere, "Well, let's see it brat!"

Defeated and shamefaced, I held out my trembling left arm for him to see, the wrapping loose and only partially covering it.

The warden recoiled back. "By God! What the hell is wrong with your arm, boy?!" he shouted, dragging me out of the cot by the scruff of my tunic, as he began to quickly haul me out of the dormitory. The other boys were swift to make way for us, and before I knew it, the warden was making his way with me off the grounds.

"Oi! Cosimo! I did find you a brat, after all! Maybe he can join one of your freak shows!"

I grew colder with each word spat out by the warden, as he hurried to catch up with a large, nasty looking man.

"What?! This squirt?!" Cosimo barked once he spun around to take a look at me, seemingly irritated. "Fine. Whatever." He dug into his trench coat and slapped a wad of bills into the warden's awaiting hands.

I shook and trembled, terrified out of my mind, but clumsily, I wrapped the rest of the bandages along my arm, before yanking down my sleeve and digging up a pair of frayed gloves out of my pocket and jerking them on. By the time I finished, the warden had lumbered off, and I was left alone with Cosimo.

He sneered down at me and began to drag me away by the arm. "Hurry along, dumbass. I paid good money for you, and if you don't work up to my standards, I'll beat you so hard there won't be a body left to find. Got that?"

"Y-yes," I stammered, tripping and stumbling as I tried to keep up with his long strides. Internally, I was crying with horror, wishing I could simply yank myself out of his vice grip and run away. But I knew I couldn't, and even if I somehow managed it, I probably wouldn't survive for long in this town before the church somehow got the word out about my arm.

Cosimo chuckled. "I hope you're ready to live the circus life!"

Time Frame — Afternoon of November 10th, 1887

"Blasted Cosimo!" I growled under my breath. "Someone needs to teach that bloody arse a lesson! Who on earth thinks it's a smart idea to mess around this blasted river in the middle of winter?!" The rest of my grumbles continued to go unheard, but even something as simple as complaining to myself made me feel better. I'd been traveling with this wretched circus for the past four months now, and it had been the worst experience of my life (which certainly said a lot)! I was Cosimo's pack mule, slave, and server all wrapped in one. The only thing that I could even claim as good fortune was the fact that I had managed to keep my arm hidden for the most part, effectively keeping me out of the Freak Show.

"Argf!"

I startled and almost plummeted straight into the depths of the rushing river. Fortunately, I caught myself in time, and turned to witness a madly barking dog galloping in my direction, its ears comically flopping everywhere. It skidded to an abrupt halt beside me and affectionately dug its head into my side.

"Hello, Allen," I chuckled softly, my mood improving as I rubbed his head. "Sorry buddy, I don't have any snacks for you at the moment."

I was a bit thankful that I took on the name Red once I joined the circus, considering Mana and his dog had just joined us over a week ago. I didn't know what the Earl's plan was, but if taking on a different name meant he was less suspicious of me, I wouldn't argue. Though really, it made me wonder why the Earl ever did this in the first place; taking and caring for an orphan like Allen before abruptly scarring him for life. Had that been all part of his grand play? He was mad enough; I wouldn't put it past him.

But there was also another reason why I hadn't yet attempted to escape from the circus (other than Cosimo's wrath). Despite my apprehension towards meeting Mana, he brought along with him another element to the story: Cross. If my memory served me correctly, I belief Cross had kept tabs on Mana, and where Mana was, Cross was eventually bound to be there. Despite the eccentricities of the redheaded General, I felt like he was the safest option to go to when confronted between the Noah Clan and the Black Order.

"Allen!"

I almost responded reflexively, but then recalled that Red was my current name. I sighed, realizing that my plan of avoiding Mana hadn't lasted; though I should've accepted that once I befriended his dog. Or, that is to say, his dog befriended me with all the scraps I kept feeding him. But it was difficult not to! This dog was the most affectionate being I had met in this entirely miserable existence, and I hadn't realized how much I'd craved affection until this dog had offered it to me. Man's best friend, indeed.

"Hello!" the clown appeared and sat on my other side, and greeted me with a chipper smile. "You must be the rascal Allen seems to favor over me now!"

"I don't know about that," I muttered, leaning down to continue the task Cosimo had set upon me. "Allen is always quick to return back to you." As if in agreement, the dog barked loudly and happily. "See?"

"Why is it that you appear so sad?!" Mana demanded with a gasp, leaning into my view to make a silly expression, clown makeup smeared thickly upon his face.

I snorted. "Just irritated. That idiot Cosimo got food all over his clown suit and demanded that I have it clean and dry before tonight's show! What does he think I am? A miracle worker?! And this water's freezing cold! At this rate, my hands are going to fall off!"

The clown patted me condescendingly atop my head. "It's alright, Red! Just turn that frown upside down, and everything will be okay!"

I scrunched my face up in confusion. "He was right, you are an idiot," I muttered under my breath, referring to the original Allen's assessment of when he first met Mana.

Mana made another silly face, and then a sad one. "Why won't you laugh? Children love clowns!"

I wrinkled my nose and hissed, "I don't."

"Is it because of this Cosimo?"

I opened my mouth, ready to deny, before pausing. I blinked, and realized he was correct. It seemed the loathing I held for Cosimo had leaked onto his job description. Not that I needed a reason to hate clowns. They were creepy either way.

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter. And a word of advice; keep Allen away from Cosimo. He likes to beat the nearest living being whenever he gets angry."

Mana made another sad face. "Is that why you're so sad? Did Cosimo beat you?"

This stupid clown was seriously starting to get on my nerves. With an abrupt splash, I stood and dragged Cosimo's stupid clown suit out of the water, and squeezed it dry as best I could, before stomping away. Mana and Allen were quick to catch up.

"Maybe you would like clowns better if you learned how to be one! It would certainly put a smile on your face!" Mana suggested, easily keeping up with my quick stride, and as if agreeing, Allen barked.

"Hardly," I huffed.

"Don't knock it till you try it!" Mana exclaimed enthusiastically. "Now, what do you say?"

With a sigh, I paused and pursed my lips in contemplation. If I actually took up his offer, it would certainly give Cosimo less of a chance to find me and beat me up for the heck of it. Plus, Cross was slippery and difficult to find. It'd probably be a while before I could locate him, and if I kept Mana around here longer by getting him to train me, than that would just better my chances. And… well, I guess I would learn all those acrobatic skills the original Allen had learned.

I finally turned to the expectant clown, and said, "Only on one condition."

"Anything!" Mana was all too happy to offer.

"Keep Allen away from Cosimo at all costs. I wasn't joking when I said that the wretched man would most likely be his cause of death," I growled, and Allen licked my left hand. I smiled, and scratched the back of his ear.

"Deal!"

A/N: So just in case anyone forgot, she's a girl! Haha, I was more comfortable writing from a female's perspective (for obvious reasons), but I also didn't want a case of another Robin (Zone reference, for anyone who remembers). So this is pretty much an SI-OC!Fem!Allen. Understood? But because of her current predicament, she'll just be cross-dressing for the time being. So she's an SI-OC!Cross-dressing!Fem!Allen.

I hope I don't confuse anyone!(x Is this a weird story? I don't know! I've had lots of fun writing it, and I hope others like it too! Please review and let me know what you think! I would love to know! Constructive criticism is appreciated!(: