Hello. Thank you to those who reviewed my recent story, Not So Oblivious. My rules do still stand though; I will only start writing if I get reviews as they do seriously motivate me into writing. I am uploading this story as a prequel to the Alone and Reunited series, which is basically all about Cole and Len's past as children up until the start of the Alone Series. I'm writing this as I want to but I will ask for 2+ Reviews per Chapter before I upload. Sound fair? Okay then. Oh! And I have about 3 or four chapters of stories that I'm either rewriting or posting (This included!) So keep an eye out for them!
Also, I'm pretty sure this may become an M due to the depressing themes that will run consistently throughout the story (Child Abuse, Self Harm, Suicide Etc) For now I'll keep it T, but Let me know If I should bump up the rating.

Childhood memories

A small child whimpered noisily, hiding from his drunken wreck of a father. Running his tiny hands through his tangled mess of black hair, the boy hissed as grubby fingers tentatively touched the bleeding gash on his head. A tear mingled with the blood on his face, leaving a dull red streak down one flushed, bruised cheek as he tried his hardest not to utter a single sound, lest it give his location away.
The boy had no idea what he had done this time! He had only been playing with his toys when he father started roaring like the beast he again, he though bitterly as his frail feet hammered against slippery marble tiles, his father never really needed a reason to hit him. He did so as he saw fit.
The child knew his father's main reasoning and he somewhat sympathized with the man he came to call Sir (It was supposed to be the word father. Apparently he wasn't good enough to call him that). It wasn't his fault that he was born, however. It wasn't his fault that his mother died in child birth. It wasn't even his fault that he looked like his deceased mother. He had never asked to be born! He hadn't asked for his mother's feminine frame or pale complexion.
But that's not how Tǒngzhì-zhě saw it.
To him, his son was the cause of his wife's death, the cause of all of his problems, all his woes. The boy was the reason everything went wrong in his father's eyes. The reason why his family were chased out of their homeland. Such a vile creature was not worthy of life; the only thing to do to a bad animal is to put it in its place.

Footsteps pounded noisily against the marble tiles, drawing closer the child's hiding place. Ragged breaths could be heard, resonating off of the walls, striking terror into the young Tao's heart. As the drunken yells grew ever closer, the boy ran, tears streaming down his dirty face, trying to escape the man he was so desperately afraid of. Trying to escape what he knew would happen.

Slipping upon the blood that had trailed down from the wound on his side, the boy crashed to the ground, breaking the silence he had tried to desperately to keep. Much like a spider is attracted the vibration of its web, Tǒngzhì-zhě picked up upon the noise and stomped towards his only child. Screwing his eyes tightly at the roar of unbridled rage, the bruised child whimpered once more as he heard his father crash throughout the large, and rather grand, estate upon which he lived, roaring obscenities about the son that he was so angry with. Most so vile, that they could not be repeated in this tale, let alone told to a 3 year old child. Shivering in fear, the boy hoisted himself up on his bruise-laden legs once more and raced to the only room in the house that he would be safe; His uncle Yang's bedroom.

Sobbing as quietly as could, the small child pounded on the door, fear wracking his shaking limbs as he heard his father draw closer with each footstep. His heart thumped erratically with each thundering footfall, his cries growing louder with each haggard, alcohol laced breath that his father exhaled.
"Please! Please! Let me in! Uncle Yang, please!" The terrified child screamed, his voice rising an octave*. His head was swimming and his body was trembling. After a minute or so of no reply, he slumped to the cracked marble floor in defeat and awaited the beating his father was sure to give him after his insolence. His sobs grew louder as his despair mounted and his fear increased, so much so that he didn't hear the tell-tale clicked of a lock or the gentle, loving whisper of the boy's name. When two arms wrapped themselves around his waist and carried him away, he shrieked in alarm and wriggled and writhed in a mad bid to escape. His fear had completely over taken all sense of reason and it was only when he opened his dull obsidian eyes did he realise who it was that had picked him up.
"Un….Uncle Yang!"The boy exclaimed, hope leaking into his wide eyes. He trembling lessened considerably and sobs ceased as a large smile split his face in two. Yang smiled warmly at the boy and swiped his blood caked hair out of the 3 year-olds eyes.
"Come on Cole, let's get you cleaned up."

CHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIES

Cole sighed contentedly as the warm water lapped at his aching wounds, soothing them as his Uncle washed the blood from his front, back and hair. Yang loved the small child as if he were his own son, and it pained him to see such a young child abused in such a way, especially as Cole was such a sweet boy. He frowned slightly at the enormous, ugly bruise that covered his nephews back, his heart breaking ever so slightly at the sight. Shaking his head, as if to try and remove that unwanted thought, he continued to wash Cole, applying idisinfectant to many of the wounds that decorated the boy. The one he was most concerned about, however, was the ridiculously large gash that had refused to stop bleeding, no matter how many times he cleaned it. He felt a gentle tug on his blood-stained Yukata and turned towards Cole. He almost wished he hadn't.

The boy's eyes were unfocused and hazy as more blood trickled from the wound that stretched from the top of his eyebrow and to somewhere in his hair (Yang hadn't located it yet but he was sure it was close to Cole's scalp). There was what could be considered a light blush on his face due to the heat, but Cole's face was so pale that the blush stood out like a sore thumb. Tear tracks stained his cheeks as he swayed alarmingly, causing Yang to worry for the small child he held in his arms.
" 'ncle Yang…Hurts…..Head hurts" Cole panted, tears gathering at the corners of his midnight irises. His voice was broken up and he could barely hold himself upright, let alone speak. Yang bit his lip in anxiety, unsure of what to do. Yes, Tǒngzhì-zhě had beaten Cole before, but never to this point. Never to where it would need some sort of operation (He could tell that Cole would need it). Pinching the bridge of his thin nose, Yang scooped up the boy in his arms and carried him to the bedroom.
Just as he set Cole down, a knock so fierce pounded against the intricately decorated Chinese double doors which were followed by drunken shouts of rage. The gentle gaze hardened considerably. Yang strode to the doors, trying to control the temper that was trying to escape him. He had very little patience for his brother, and that patience was wearing thin.

"Opeeen up Yaaaang!I Knows the little wretch ish in derrrrrrr" Tǒngzhì-zhě slurred drunkenly, causing Cole to tremble in fear on the bed. A brief memory flashed in front his eyes, the pounding on the door reminding the Raven of the time his father had a party, and Cole had dared to ask for food, seeing as Tǒngzhì-zhě had refused to feed him those last few days. His father had chased him throughout the estate, allowing the other drunken clan members to set their spirits on him, beating him senseless. He had holed himself behind a seemingly indestructible door that, after a few hard punches, had shattered beneath his father's strength. That night, the man had broken his arm in three different places and had nearly paralysed the young child, and probably would have, if Yang had not intervened. The breaks were not severe and there was no need for an operation of any sort, but the thought of going through the pain once more shook Cole to his core, and he pleaded with his uncle.
"Uncle Y-Yang! He's g-g-going to break down the door! Uncle Yang!" He shrieked, eyes wide but hazy. The elder frowned back at the bed, before smiling gently at his nephew, turning and redireicting his anger at the double doors.
"What will you do if I do open my door, Tǒngzhì-zhě? What will you do to him?" In the background, he could hear Cole whimper and it took everything Yang had not to run to the boy.
"Whutsss isht to youuuu!? He'sh my Shun (Son)!" The other man roared, pounded harder on the door.
"He is my nephew, Tǒngzhì-zhě. And he needs urgent medical attention. I will not allow you to make his condition worse!" The golden eyed male replied, his voice raising a tad in anger.
" The wittle wretsh cannn deal wiv it! He neeshds to gwow up!"
" He is three years old, Tǒngzhì-zhě! You can't do this to him! He is only a child!" Yang shouted back, temper finally breaking. His brother disgusted him! He had what Yang and Ran had always wanted – a child! It's not to say that they didn't love Jun, but the moment she was born En took her away for training. She was more of a distant relative than a daughter. The distraught parents had wept for days when Jun had been taken away as they knew they could never watch her grow up. He could never spoil her. He could never watch her take her first steps, or say her first word. He could only watch on as his daughter was molded into a killing machine. Yet his brother had that chance! He had what Yang so desperately wanted! He the chance to nurture a child of his own, to love and protect it, to teach and watch as Cole grew up but he was abusing it, crushing it, destroying it! It sickened him!
"Sho?! My S…S…Son! If I cann even cawl 'im dat! He'sh a washte of shpase!" Yang glared at the door, fury increasing at a terrifyingly rapid rate. Cole's whimpering had increased at his father's cruel words and Yang could tell that he was shaking from the rattling the bed was making. His amber eyes flashed angrily and growled in disgust and contempt.
"No, Tǒngzhì-zhě. Now I am going to take him to the medical wing to get his head seen to. This discussion is over." Ignoring the profanities spewed from behind the door, he strode over to the whimpering child on the bed.
"N-N-NO! Unc-Uncle Yang Please don't!" Cole cried, tears overflowing from his large obsidian eyes. His lithe, starved frame trembled, sobs wracking his body. His head ached, yes, but it would be nothing in comparison to what his father would deliver to him should his Uncle hand him over. The boy cried out once more, in pain or fear he could not tell, as he heard the pristine doors splinter and creak against the thundering of the drunken man's fists. Fists that had the potential to break bones. Fists that he had felt wrap around his frail neck, squeezing until he was left gasping for air, hacking violently as bruises blossomed on the pale column of skin. Fists that he had come to fear. And those fists were after him. His sobbing increased tenfold as he started to babble incoherently, body shaking with each gasp of air. The young raven was trapped in a sea of swirling memories of what his father was capable of. Memories of being tortured and abused, crying himself to sleep. Like the time his father had dropped an expensive Ming Vase on the marble floor and blamed it on Cole, saying it was his hideous face that made him drop it. The boy was one at the time and after his father had been finished, Cole had to be rushed straight to the family's clinic. There were so many X-rays, though how many exactly his infantile brain could not recall. He remembered his Uncle Yang telling him, as he lay upon the immaculate white sheets, that he had a depression in the skull from where his father had beat him and it would heal on its own, but that made no sense to him. Another tremor of fear shot through his body. A hand was on his head. It was turning…It was going to-
"Cole, I promise you I will not allow him to harm you. I am head of the family for a reason, and no harm shall befall you."
It was his Uncle!
He relaxed once he heard the gentle whispers, the hand he had thought to be his father's coming out to play with the spiky black strands of Cole's hair, as the elder knew how it soothed the boy. Sure enough, the sobs subsided slightly and the ragged rising and falling of his back and stomach slowed. Soon only the muffled cries of a child in pain remained, all previous terror evaporating under the relaxing touch. The malnourished body beneath his large fingertips quaked silently, breathing labored by the many injuries that decorated it. Each and every rib could be counted as a result of being undernourished and for moment, Yang wanted nothing more than to kill the man he was forced to call brother.
"'Ncle Yang?" Cole finally whispered, voice hoarse and laden with sleep. The hand in his mop of matted coal black hair stilled momentarily as a gentle hum allowed the child to know that he was being listened to.
"Why does 'Tou-san hit me? What do I do wrong, 'Ncle Yang?" Each word was painful, not only for Cole to say but for Yang to hear. The elder scowled, the hand that was not trying to rid the boy of the remaining blood in his hair bunching itself in the bloodied sheets.
"Your Otou-san is just a bitter, cruel man who cannot handle the cards life has given him, and so he must blame somebody else to feel like he does not have that responsibility. That person, my dear boy, is you. Sadly. Please don't…..Don't ever think that in any way there is something wrong with you….There's not. You're an amazing child, the type Ran and I could only dream of having"
"Why doeshn't it….Shtop then?" Cole said sleepily, rubbing his eyes as best he could with his tiny bruised palms. As the weariness over took the small child, a small murmur was uttered.
"Because I don't have the power to stop it, Cole. I would of, but I cannot."
CHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIESCHILDHOODMEMORIES

Robe swishing with each turn, Yang paced the Infirmary nervously. He ignored the irritated glares from his brother and the rest of his family as he waited for the results of Cole's operation, allowing himself only the tiniest of smiles each time he saw Tǒngzhì-zhě's broken nose and black eye.
After Yang had discovered that his nephew was going to have to go in for surgery because of the open skull fracture on his head, the Clan Leader had seen red. Ran had to quite literally pry her husband away from her brother-in-law as he was intent on killing the vile specimen of shaman that was before him.

The large doors swung upon to reveal a grim-faced medic. Seeing his expression, Yang's heart sunk as his fear for Cole's safety increased, his terror of losing the child that was like son to him. A prayer was uttered to Yu-Huang as the medic began to speak.
"The child is alive. There was no infection in the outer wound and after examining the child's body, we found no other broken bones other than the nose, which should heal on its own. I will prescribe some pain killers to help, but ultimately Cole should stay in bed for the duration of his recovery." Yang could not help the smile the crept onto his sweating face, nor could he help the incredibly large sigh of relief as he thanked the gods for sparing Cole.
"However" The doctor cut in, making Yang freeze in fear "We found something most alarming when examining the boy" The Tao's blood turned cold, fear mounting once more.
"What?" Yang breathed, fearing the worst. His body was rigid, tense with anticipation.
"Well…err… this really should be told to only the boy's father..." The medic stuttered, pushing up his glasses and looking around.
"I am the head of the Tao family, as such it as my duty to hear the condition of them first. I have as much right to be here as my brother" Yang hissed, glaring at the smirking man on the bench.
"I am afraid I must disagree with you, Onii-san, I am his father after all" Tǒngzhì-zhě smiled sweetly, eyes challenging his older brother, mocking him.
" What kinda of a father sends his child to this depressing building in the first place"
" The kind that knows what's best for the boy!" Cole's father stood, glaring into his brother's hateful pools of topaz.
" WHAT'S BEST FOR THE BOY!?Why you—"
"Both of you just shut up and sit down! Why don't we just find out what's wrong?" Ran snapped, having enough of the man's vile words. They sat down.
"Ahem….How should I put this… the boy is—"
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG!" The Tao leader roared, anger and anxiety fracturing his nerves. The doctor flinched, took a very deep breath and began to speak.
"He is not a Shaman"

This has taken me forever to finish! (It's a beauty of a thing called PROCRASTINATION and HOMEWORK.) So, I left it on a Cliffy. *Incredibly evil smirk.* I don't like the way I wrote this. I have been back through it about 50 thousand times and I just feel that it was written awfully TT^TT
Len: I fail to see the point in this fanfiction.
Cole: You never see the point in her fanfictions!
Len: Good point.
Ttcf: I hate you both! *Cries and snuggles up in Black Butler Blanket*
Cole: *Sigh* Oh well! Reviews would be utterly AMAZING!
Ttcf: *Hugs awkwardly* ARIGATOU! I forget to mention that!

REVIEW!WRITERS FOOD IS NEEDED! 6 pages has drained me!