Title: Scars

Synopsis: Loneliness engulfs Allen as he feels that he is losing his humanity. As the scars of his own sword cause him anguish, it seems that only one hand will reach out to him. Allen, Tim and Lenalee-centric.

Rating: T

A/N: As of late, my DGM fics have been steadily growing darker. I keep torturing poor Allen and making him absolutely miserable. That should serve as a warning; this fic is dark. Not as bad as the last one that I did, but this comes darn close. Anyways, I hope that you enjoy anyway, and drop a review to let me know what you thought.

Disclaimer: I don't own DGM, because if I did, occasionally something good would happen to Allen Walker.

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"I am human and I need to be loved, just like everybody else does."

-"How Soon is Now?" by The Smiths

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Fluttering on the farthest edge of his vision were golden wings, growing bigger and bigger as they neared him. Landing softly on his master's silver head, Timcanpy settled into the warm blanket of Allen's hair. If the object had eyes, he would have closed them with happiness.

Since the night that Cross had gone missing, his master had spent more and more time sitting up on the roof, his face turned to the bitter sting of the cold wind with his eyes shut. What Allen thought of as he sat there chasing off his demons, Tim would never know, but secretly the golem was happy to have his master all to himself. Since they had arrived at the Order, there had been so little time that Tim and Allen could just be together.

"Hello Tim." With a happy contentment, Tim flew from Allen's head and onto his shoulder. "Is there anything that you needed to tell me?"

There was no specific reason that Tim had come to Allen. Warmth, comfort, happiness… Those were the things that the golem craved and those were the things that Allen gave. Nothing more and nothing less than that was what Tim expected of his master.

A small chuckle came from Allen's lips. "You're as talkative as ever."

If having Tim talk would take the permanent look of dissatisfaction off of Allen's face for a moment, then Tim would have done anything possible to learn to speak, despite it being an impossible feat.

Opening his eyes, Allen began to speak. "Last night I had a dream; it was wonderful, but I can't remember any of it." Feet dangling off of the edge of the roof, Allen was scarily close to finding death from a hard fall. Allen's arms wrapped themselves around his chest as he winced. "And those scars that I have burn all of the time. That constant ache…" Miles away there was someone else who had these same scars; Allen wondered if he felt the same pain that he now felt.

"Why are you still here, Tim?" Doubled over in pain, Allen gasped for breath. Fluttering with uncertainty, Tim flew in front of his master's face, hoping that this was just a passing moment. "Can't you see that I'm barely human any longer? "His eyes squeezed shut even harder. "It's not worth it to be close to me anymore."

A cold wind pushed against the two of them, breaking Tim's flight for a moment. Behind him, Tim heard someone give off a small huff as they faced the cold wind.

"Who is it?" Just loud enough that his voice carried, there was a forced edge to his voice.

In the shadows the figure lingered for a moment, apparently unsure of what to do now that their presence had been revealed. Then, without hesitation, the figure ran forward across the rooftop until her arms were around Allen's shoulders. "You never told me that you were in so much pain, Allen. Why have you been keeping this from me?"

The extra pressure on his back must have been hurting Allen, but Tim noticed that there was a desperate determination in his voice trying to hide how much his scars ached. "Lenalee, what are you doing out here? You'll catch a-"

"How long have you been coming up here like this? We've missed you so much and we haven't been able to find you." It seemed to occur to Lenalee that her arms may be causing Allen to be in more misery than necessary, so she took them away from his body. As if her hand were some sort of treasure, Allen reached out and grasped it, holding it in a death grip like it were liable to fly away. "We've been looking this whole time." Melancholic and sweet, she stared at Allen, returning his grip.

Physically exhausted, his breath came out in loud wheezes; emotionally exhausted, his words came out like bullets. "Every day… I've been in there… With all of those… people." As he spit out that last word, Allen leaned forward even more so that his head was now over the roof of the building.

Watching Allen violently wretch over the side of the building, Lenalee put her free hand on his head. Worried, Timcanpy hovered over and sat on Allen's shoulder once again. "Maybe your body has been there Allen," Whispering as she winced at the sound of his coughs, her words came out pained. "But you've been somewhere else for a very long time now."

When he was done being sick, he tried to straighten his body out, only to collapse, nearly losing his balance and falling over the edge of the roof. Heart beating fast, Lenalee grabbed his chest and pulled him back until he was lying on his back, feet still swaying over the rim of the rooftop. "What are you doing?" Eyes barely open, his voice was skeptical. "Why are you doing-"

"Because I love you Allen, and because I care about you." Whispering, Lenalee took a hand and smoothed Allen's hair back to get it out of his sweat-covered face. "Because I can't stand to see you in so much pain and feeling so alone."

Agreeing with her words, Tim moved to her shoulder where he perched. "But I'm not…" Coughing, he trailed off, his body lurching up and down as the howling noises escaped his throat. His voice scratchy and tired by the time that he was done, he finished his sentence. "Good any more."

Grabbing his hand once again, Lenalee smiled. "You don't need to be. That's not something that matters to me." Unable to stand it any longer, she wrapped her arms around his body and put her ear to his chest where she could hear his heart beating. "You're still Allen, even if you're no longer 'good'." Once again agreeing with the girl's words, Timcanpy moved next to Allen's face and let his cold metal body touch his master's cheek, hoping that it gave him the reassurance that he needed.

"Thank you, Lenalee." Though the words were hard for Allen to believe, and his head urged him to reject them, he smiled. Inside his chest, his heart thumped, signaling that he was, in fact, still human. "Thank you."

As he blacked out, Lenalee's smiling face was the last thing that he saw.

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Fin