Title: Unexpected Life
Rating: PG-13
Author: Windsong
Word Count: 942
Genre: Slice-of-Life
Warnings: Some cursing? Mention of drug use?
Summary: When she dreamed about growing up, this wasn't what she dreamed about.
Disclaimer: Pokémon isn't mine. It belongs to GameFreak & Nintendo.
Author's Notes: For James, who requested this. I don't think he expected me to take it seriously. Also, there is something seriously wrong with a kid's game that makes a child wear its mother's skull on its head.

"I got a note from your teacher," she began.

"Ugh, Mom, I am not having this conversation."

"You've been cutting classes!" she cried, chasing him across the living room. "Do you have any idea how much it costs to send you to that school?"

"Yeah, you told me," her son replied sarcastically.

"What are you doing when you cut class, anyway?"

"Nothing! We just hang out, all right?"

"The teacher said she saw you smoking Razor Leaves behind the Poké Mart!"

Her son threw up his hands. "Well then, why are you asking?"

"The hell are you thinking?! That stuff is dangerous and illegal! That Sandshrew skank was with you, wasn't she?"

"Wha—No! Don't talk about her like that!"

"I've told you not to spend time with her, she's nothing but trouble! Don't you think about your future?"

"Screw this," he grumbled, "I'm done." He began to stomp off to his room.

"You better appreciate the things I do for you!" his mother screamed after him. "I work every day so I can give you a better life!"

"Yeah, because the one we've got now is shit!"

"Don't you dare use that language in this house!" His door slammed, and Marowak sighed, bringing a hand to her temple, but stopping short when her fingers brushed against bone. She felt a migraine coming on, and her medication just wasn't cutting it anymore. Her son had been eyeing her helmet lately, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Maybe it was getting too small? She imagined going to the Pokémon Center, Nurse Joy shaking her head sadly and giving her a prescription for Razor Leaves, and snorted.

She'd never thought she'd turn out like this—with a delinquent son and a deadbeat husband—but what else could she do? It wasn't like you had a lot of options when you were a single Pokémon with a bastard kid and you weren't getting any younger. It was a familiar story: her boyfriend had skipped town after knocking her up, and she'd had to drop out of high school to raise her son. Since then, she'd jumped from one dead-end job to the next, just trying to make ends meet.

When she had first met her husband, she thought things were finally going right. It seemed perfect in those early days—cozy cuddling in front of the TV after work, then going out to a lazy brunch the next day. Her friends had tried to warn her, and her son hated him, but she wouldn't listen. He had a nice cave, even if it was lacking in the "natural light" department, and they'd been able to move out of her parents' basement. He was so patient and kind, and such a good listener; he even closed his eyes, just so he could focus on her voice, he said, his breathing deep and slow and even. She thought she could overlook his flaws. So what if he snored in his sleep? For the first time in her life, she felt loved just for who she was, mistakes and all.

It was too late to back out now, anyway. The saying was true—all the good men in the world were either taken or gay, especially when your charm point was that you wore a big ugly skull on your head, and your best quality was that you could throw the meanest Bonemerang this side of Route 8.

She groaned, realizing she still had to make dinner. Between a teenage son and her gluttonous husband, there were never any leftovers. "Screw it, I'll just order something," she muttered. Her migraine was starting to get really intense now, and she headed towards the bedroom. "I'm just gonna lie down for a minute."

As she walked down the hallway, it sounded like she was heading towards a forest filled with manic chainsaw lumberjacks. As she got closer, the ground began to tremble. By the time she got to the bedroom door, the air was trembling from the force of the noise. She'd had the room soundproofed, but it didn't help much. Was this why Cubone left the house all the time? She couldn't blame him for that, if it was; in fact, she almost wished she could do the same. With a sigh, she went inside, absent-mindedly picking up the noise-canceling headphones that were right inside the door.

Their bedroom didn't have a bed, because they didn't need one. One of his perks, she reminded herself wearily, as she always did; he slept on anything, and since he was so large and soft, he was better than a mattress anyway. She crawled up onto his belly and stared down at her husband's snoring face. He was handsome, for a Snorlax, she supposed. Then again, he was the only one she'd ever met.

"That boy drives me crazy," she said, although she couldn't hear herself over the force of his snores. "He's gonna get kicked out of school at this rate. I wish you'd talk to him. Maybe he'd listen to you."

His snore went up in pitch, sounding like a question.

"No, I'm too tired. I'm gonna get take-out later. Should we order from Chimchar Chimichurri again? I think they're having a special on tacos. You know Cubone loves those seafood ones."

Her husband snorted a little.

"Okay." She lay her head down on his chest, rising and falling comfortably for a moment, like she was riding a cloud. Closing her eyes, she tried not to think. God, she was so tired. His snores went up a little again.

"Just a long day."

Snort, snort, snore.

"Yeah. I love you too."