A/N: So this is a drabble that just came to me during Film Class one day in 2006, while we were watching a particularly tasteless film for its use of vertigo shots alone. I have a great love of silent films, Charlie Chaplin especially, and I guess I was feeling dramatic so, I decided to write an alternate ending to Chaplin's 1921 film "The Kid". In case you're unfamiliar with it, "the kid" (or "John") is played by the child actor Jackie Coogan and The Tramp, his adopted father by happenchance, is played by Charlie Chaplin. The film is about The Tramp and his "son", their story, their relationship, their separation and reunion, and the eventual discoverage of John's true parents. In the end, John's mother appears to take him back. While this ending is tragically bittersweet already, I thought of a way the story could have ended even more tragically. So I wrote it down. Obviously, take the written dialogue with a grain of salt. I know that a silent film wouldn't contain dialogue that isn't cued by body langauge, but as this is a written drabble, I feel I can insert it realistically. Whatever. Don't like it? Bite me.

"No! John! Don't take him from me!" The Tramp yelled, struggling fiercely against the officers holding him back. Twisting and kicking ferociously, he was able to break free and ran to grab his son back.
Suddenly, three shots rang in the air, echoing in the ensuing shocked silence.
"…Papa!" Little John cried out in desperate terror. "Papa!!" He struggled against the arms of his biological mother holding his little body to her tightly.
"Officer…! Lord, what have you done?" She said in soft horror, staring wide eyed at the young man who had been thrown on his back from the force of the shots, blood seeping out of the bullet holes in his chest and stomach.
"He was coming so fast, Ma'am, I thought he was going to attack you…" the officer replied, dazed.
John wrenched himself from his mother with a cry and fled to the man he had thought of as his father for the only five years of his young life.
The Tramp groaned, turning his head, eyes clenched shut in pain. Moving his legs slightly, a sudden weakness coming over him, the Tramp opened his eyes and raised his head slowly in time to see his son running toward him. He raised his arms to receive the boy. John broke to his hands and knees upon reaching the Tramp, throwing his little body over his father's, hugging him around his neck, laying his cheek against his father's, crying.
"Papa!!" He sobbed out, kissing his father's cheek.
"Shhh…ooh, John, don't cry. We are together again." The Tramp sighed out softly, holding his son closely with arms that were quickly losing strength. He smiled sadly, tears leaking down his face into John's shirt. Brushing a hand over the boy's sandy blond hair, he rocked back and forth, claming the child.
"Hush, my boy, it's going to be alright. You have a mother now; she'll take care of you – she'll love you."
"Not like you! I want you, Papa! Don't go." John cried, his voice muffled against his father's neck. The Tramp fought the sob in his throat and held the boy tighter.
"I want to stay, too, John. I want to stay with you forever and I want you to stay with me. I would hold on to you no matter what happens... but the worst has... I'm sorry, John, so sorry." He took a deep, shaky breath. "But you must live with your real mama now. And live well, she's wealthy enough... you'll have what I couldn't give you."
"I liked it with you, Papa." John mumbled softly, "I love you."
"I love you, too, son. Nothing will change that."
The Tramp held John tighter then, and brought his head up to kiss him, then his forehead. The Tramp smiled at his son, one last time, glad he fought for him, and then… went limp. His breath left him, and he died.

The woman fainted as the boy screamed his grief and held the only father he had known.