Unloved By SaikoChi

Disclaimer: I really don't own any of the characters except for the mom...oh, I don't own the millennium stuff...or the shadow realm...actually, I don't own a lot of stuff...but the fic is mine! ALL MINE! But I wrote it for you. I hope you enjoy!

..:: Chapter 1 - Gone ::..

The boy just sat by the window and watched the rain drizzle down, almost like the tears that drizzled from his eyes. The last month had been pure Hell for the young boy, only 10 years old. His sister had died a little over 3 weeks ago in a car accident while she was being driven home from a friend's house. A drunk driver had struck the car with his SUV, killing everyone inside.

The death of his sister couldn't have been at a worse time of the boy, either. His mother was in the hospital dying of a brain tumor. The boy was attached to his mother more than any other person on the planet and it just tore him apart to think about never being with her again.

However, the tumor was quite severe; there was not that great of a chance that the boy's mother would live. The tumor was in an unreachable location of her brain. The doctors said that there was a very risky surgery involved to remove it, which would lead to permanent brain damage, such as the inability to remember anything, if the surgery was even successful, which was unlikely.

The boy listened to his father talk on the phone with someone who was most likely his mother's doctor. The boy knew that he should have been in bed but he couldn't sleep; who could blame him? He listened intently to his father, speaking on the phone in the living room.

"Yes...I know...she's in pain...but I don't want to let her go yet." The boy's father's British voice echoed from downstairs.

It was true. The boy's mother was in pain. She couldn't remember anything most of the time. It saddened the boy greatly when he went to the hospital to visit his mother and she couldn't even remember who he was. Not to mention the medications she was taking to vainly attempt to rid her of then tumor made her nauseous and gave her severe mood swings.

"Yes...but...my daughter, Amane, died in a car crash not too long ago." His voice cracked but he kept talking. "Do you know what pressure this will put on my son? He's 10 years old. He is learning about death much too fast...

The boy leaned his head up against the cold glass pane of his window, his warm breath fogging the area right below his nose. Listening to his father say such things was tearing him, feeling that his heart might stop at any moment because of the stress.

"...Well why isn't the medicine working?!" The father shouted into the receiver. There was silence as he listened to what the doctor had to say. "Oh..." his voice was melancholy. "So, it really can't help anymore...it's just keeping her alive...I see...

The boy pressed the pads of his fingers against the window, wincing as more salty tears burned his parched eyes. "No, please..." he whispered, "say it isn't so...just let me wake up from this nightmare next to my mother and sister...please..." He pleaded, having a british accent and a soft gentle voice a bit like his father's.

There was a long pause before his father spoke again. "I guess the only option is too..." His voice was beginning to crack again, "...take her off of life support.

The last six words ran through his mind over and over. He couldn't possibly have heard his father correctly. His mother couldn't be dying. Of course not! It was just a big nightmare, he would wake up and his mother and sister would be there with their warm smiles and shining faces. Wouldn't they? 'Please...just let me wake up...I hate this dream...' He thought over and over again.

"Yes...yes...thank you...goodbye..." You could hear the sorrow in his voice as he spoke before he finally slammed down the receiver onto it's base. He moaned painfully and began to sob.

The boy had only heard his father cry once before and that was when his sister had died. That's when the boy knew that he had heard those accursed words correctly. He whined softly, and his hand slid down the window, quickly loosing the strength he had diverted to hope for his mother.

His dark brown eyes watered but not a single tear fell, he was in too much shock to cry at that moment. His mind raced through hundreds of thoughts each second. His pulse raced right along with it. His mother, his sister, gone forever. He couldn't feel anything, his body wasn't ready for all of this emotional stress, and he sat there in shock, unable to move or control his thoughts.

The boy was so shocked, he couldn't hear the creak of the steps as his father climbed the stairs. He was so dismayed, he didn't notice the squeak of the door hinge or the sudden flood of light from the hallway as his father opened the door. He couldn't even hear what his father had said as he saw him sitting there as stiff as a dead animal that had been left out in the cold for a couple of days. The boy had no recollection of anything until he felt his father's arms wrap around his torso in a strong hug.

The boy could finally feel. He could feel his father beside him, the warm fleece on the shoulder of his sweater-vest; The boy could feel it underneath his chin as it rested on his father's shoulder. The boy could feel the soft, wispy, graying hair of his father gently rubbing his cheek. The boy noticed the light, he noticed the cold, he noticed the eerie silence.

His emotions, that until that moment had been deciding what action to take, hit him hard, like a power slap across the face. He felt the cold hand of death wrap around his mind. He felt the pain of slowly dying inside, yet staying alive to endure it. He suddenly clung to his father, burying his face in his father's shoulder.

They both cried, needing each other more than they had ever needed one another before.