Alice sat on her old, stained couch in her dusty, dark lounge room. She could hear the occasional thump coming from a room down the hall. Each squeal or giggle made her heart sink. She picked up the bottle of alcohol – she wasn't even sure if it was Vodka or Tequila any more – and drank straight from it.

She regretted what she was doing. She really, truly did. But Alice didn't want her daughter growing up surrounded by strange men and bottles of Scotch. Taking another mouthful of Vodka (Tequila?), Alice waited for her old friend to show up.

Ah, yes. Her old friend, Giovanni. Odd, kooky Giovanni. He had different views about the world and how people should be. He's always had a tough, harsh view on the world, and they were both pretty comfortable with it. She didn't know why, but however hard she tried to understand the educated things that spewed from his mouth, but she respected it nonetheless. Maybe to impress him, maybe to feel equal with him, or maybe even because she wanted him to respect her, but she certainly did. She wondered if she respected him so she'd feel, in some way, she had a friend.

She snorted. "Pathetic, Ali."

Her daughter came into the room, clutching an old teddy bear with a fraying silk ribbon around its neck tied in a bow. She wore a little pink dress and a pair of white slip-on shoes. Her red-gold hair curling around her face and down to her shoulders. Her blue eyes stood out on her pale skin, but her face was flushed with the cold. Their house was cold. No heating.

"Mummy?" she said quietly.

"What, child?"

She clutched the teddy bear tighter before continuing. "I... I'm hungry."

Alice blinked. Food? She hadn't had much of that herself in the past few days. She stood up a little shakily and made her way over to the kitchen.

Her daughter opened her mouth to say something, but apparently decided against it. Alice arched an eyebrow but didn't question her. She opened the fridge that hummed with a droning tone.

The mother and daughter (and teddy bear) were greeted with cold air. There was nothing in the fridge except an egg, half a celery stick and a mostly empty jar of horse radish.

Her daughter sighed. "It's okay, mummy. I'll be fine." Her small little hands wrapped around her mothers and squeezed, before walking back to her room, her shoulders slumped. The teddy bear had slackened in her arms, too.

God, Alice thought, I can't even feed my own child. Pathetic. She picked up her bottle of Vodka – definitely Vodka – and took two, three, possibly seven mouthfuls of it.

Her daughter's voice echoed throughout through the house. "Mummy! Someone's at the door!"

Alice doesn't remember getting up or stumbling her way there, and she scarcely remembered opening the door but the man that stood at the door... Alice swore she'd never, ever forget.

A tall, lean man with dark eyes and short, dark hair stood proud. His face wore regret and something that seemed remotely apologetic.

"Alice, you look awful."

"Giovanni, I feel awful."

"Well, you look it." He chuckled, not unkindly.

Apparently, the pair of them had walked back into the lounge and sat down, as that was the next thing Alice remembered.

"Sweetheart," her voice cracked, "Come here,"

Her daughter came in, teddy bear in hand. "Yes, mummy?"

"This is Giovanni."

"G... Gi... Giovan..."

Giovanni chuckled. "It's nice to meet you, Sweetheart." He held out his hand. She stared at it blankly, not knowing what to do. He smiled. "You shake it. Here."

He took her small hand and shook it gently. She squeezed it, almost looking for comfort. He squeezed back lightly.

"Go and pack up your things, Sweetheart," Alice's voice quivered, "Your clothes, your toys, all of it."

Her daughter nodded. There were a few quiet grunts of effort before Giovanni turned and looked at Alice.

"Are you sure about this? I mean, she's your daughter."

Alice shook her head. "I can't give her anything, Giovanni. Not food, not heat, nothing. You can."

He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "Alice, that doesn't stop her from making her own choice."

"She's seven. She won't understand what's happened. Give it a few weeks. Your big flashy place, compared to this dump. She'll prefer it there. She'll prefer you."

"She knows you're her mother."

Alice shook her head again and neither spoke until her daughter came back in with a backpack, tiny suitcase and, of course, the teddy bear. "Where am I going?"

"You're going to stay with Giovanni for a while."

"Why?"

"Because there are some things I need to fix. You'll be safe with Giovanni, don't worry."

"Oh... okay."

"Are you ready to go?"

She nodded.

As they neared the door, Giovanni stopped. "You know, Alice, I'm going to have to know her name."

"Holly." Alice hiccuped.

"Holly has ears," the girl muttered.

Giovanni laughed. "Spunk. I like her."

Kissing her daughter on the head, Alice watched Giovanni and Holly leave.

Alice never did fix anything. And really, looking back, Alice wasn't sure Holly was ever safe with Giovanni. She decided, however, that if she could do it over again, she would.

~X~

Holly sat on a large, black couch. Everything was so much bigger, cleaner and more expensive than what she was used to. She looked around, gaping slightly. It evened smelled better.

A door opened and out stepped Giovanni and a small boy – her age, seven – was behind him. He had blood red hair that made her blink, as if she was seeing things. She wasn't.

"Holly, this is Silver." Giovanni introduced the boy, who she assumed was his son.

His son smiled warmly, politely.

They became very good friends, after that. Until he started to go somewhere in the house. Into some room she couldn't find.

One night, she sat on her frilly bed and looked out the window. Rain pounded against her window. She was glad she was safe and warm inside the house. Thunder roared, lightning cracked. Holly furrowed her eyebrows and moved to the window. Something out there was moving.

She couldn't see anything, but she could've sworn she'd seen...

No... she couldn't have...

But she was sure of it...

Lightning flashed and lit up the sky, shining down for a second on the earth below.

Yes, she was absolutely positive of it.

A flash of red. A flash of blood red hair.

~X~

One.

Two.

Three.

Jason had taught her numbers last month. She counted as the bullets tore through his skull.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Tears poured down her face. She struggled against the strong hand on her arm. The grip tightened and her bones nearly cracked. Her scream echoed through the grimy room, but it was not answered.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Blood trickled down her brother's cheek, neck, arm. The man with the gun smiled and raised the weapon once more.

Ten.

Her arm was released and she was running, running to her brother's body, shaking him, trying to wake him.

"JASON. JASON." Her hands were sticky with his blood. "JASON. JA-" The pressure on her arm returned. Her head made contact with the wall and everything went dark.

~X~

He leant over the small girl, shaking her, willing her to wake up. She didn't stir. A huge bruise had already started to form on her forehead and her hands were brown with her brother's dried blood. Wake up. Wake up. She had to wake up. If she didn't wake up, his heart would break knowing that he had watched the man kill both of them. And the world would be dead.

More dead than it already was.

He shook and shook the frail girl. Why was she so small? She was the same age as him, if a few months younger. Her eyes flickered open, met his. Her small fingers brushed against his arm.

"Are you okay?" She didn't answer him. His fingertips grazed the bruise on her head and she flinched.

"Jason," she whimpered. "Help me, Jason. Help."

"Shhh." He glanced towards the stairs, but no one came running. "I'm going to help you." He picked her up and carried her up the stairs. He checked there were no grunts around and soon was sprinting to get outside. The rain soon had them soaked through and the mud was thick on the legs of his jeans. Eventually he ran out of breath and took shelter under a tree. He looked down at the girl in his arms and saw she was crying.

"Shhhh…" he whispered. "You're safe. I won't hurt you." She looked up at him reproachfully. "I'm Silver," he told her.

"Monica." They stayed there for what seemed like hours waiting for the rain to stop. She cried into his shirt and he held her and stroked her hair and for the first time in his life, he had a purpose.

~X~

"But Grandpa, you promised!" Gary whined. The old man looked down at him tiredly.

"I said no such thing. You have to wait until you're ten like everyone else."

"But Grandpa-"

"No buts! Do me a favour and go shut the window. We don't want this place flooding and scaring the Pokémon." Gary sighed in resignation and sulked over to the window. He was about to lock it when he heard a whimper. He peered out, expecting to find a Pidgey, or maybe a Rattata hiding underneath the sill. Instead, he saw a boy and a girl, huddled against each other, wrapped up in a jacket that was too small to have given warmth to even one of them. Gary yelled.

"GRANDPA. GRANDPA."

~X~

Yay, it's long! Holly wrote the first part. I wrote the others. Hn. It's REALLY long. -claps-

Um, yeah. We hope it's good. Holly's the superior writer here, so eh. Over to her.

So basically, yeah, I wrote the first two parts. The alcoholic woman and the first part with the little girl.

I'm hardly superior, Monica. If at all.

You know, I'm really surprised - like really, REALLY surprised - that this is long o.O

I think the little Gary is adorable, I think Monica did a really good job on that. Although, I'm rather proud of my alcoholic mother part :3

So, yeah, that's about it, guys. Reviews would be absolutely amazing. We'd love that.

Thank you very much!

- M and Spiderman, aka Monica and Holly or "JuicyMarshmallows" xx