You Make Me Run

Your smiles
Well they make my day
You don't know it yet
But you're everything

And you,
You make me run
And you,
You make me want to live
...Fisher - You

I slammed the door behind me and collapsed against it. I ran my hands through my hair and sank to my knees, trying to breathe and keep the tears at bay.

I was doing fine until I heard my apartment door shut. Then the tears came out in wracking sobs. He was gone.

I was sobbing. My daughter was screaming.

I lifted my head to look at my little girl. Jessie was just seven-months-old, able to sit on her own, which she was doing now, and grasp the bars of her crib in her small fists as she wailed. It just made me cry harder.

We cried together, though I doubt she even knew what she was crying for. She had just heard the loud, angry voices that had woken her from her dreams and had gotten scared. She didn't know that one of those angry voices had been mine.

My voice, telling him to go.

Why did I do that? Why did I scream at him? Why did I force him out of my apartment? Why?

"Mama!" Jessie cried and I froze. Her scrunched up face was desperate, wanting me, needing me enough to say her first word. My heart broke. What had I done?

But I didn't just sit there this time. I scrambled to my feet and picked her up out of the crib and held her to me. I cradled her in my arms as she continued to cry. My tears slipped from my cheeks and down into her little red curls. I watched them hit her hair and tried to hold them back.

"I am so, so sorry, Baby," I crooned to her.

My thoughts had only been of my pain when he had said the words that tore us apart. I had just wanted him to leave, forget that he and I ever happened, just to make the knife in my heart disappear.

Except it wasn't that easy. He was Jessie's father. And he loved her so much.

And she loved him. She loved it when he bounced her in his arms or when he would use her stuffed pokemon as puppets or even when they would sit together on the couch watching cartoons. He was her favourite, right up there with me, her bottle, and her stuffed vulpix.

"Mama," Jessie murmured into my shirt. I felt sick. She should have said her first word while laughing, not while she was crying out for me. This was supposed to be a happy milestone, but it wasn't. Her daddy was gone and I had done that.

"I'm here," I whispered to her, "I'm here."

She began to quiet down, but she still clutched tightly to me. I was trying to breathe to control my own emotions. I couldn't despair. I had to be her mother first.

"I'll always be here, Jessie," I vowed, "I'll make it up to you. All of it. Everything."

Everything.

I had a lot to make up for.

Her father and I had always had a rocky relationship at best. When we found out I was pregnant, he freaked. It took a premature, life-threatening birth to bring us together again. It was a shaky start, but seeing him and Jessie together just made it all worth it, even if it had to be in secret for fear of his mother (and my boss) finding out about our illegitimate daughter. Even in private, we couldn't call him 'daddy'. We called him 'uncle' around her. And now this, this piece of shit situation that fucked us over when we had been doing so well...

And now he was gone, along with his promises of us being a family. It was the one promise I thought he'd keep. Of course he didn't want to marry someone else. He had to though, for the money.

But that wasn't right. He had got so angry when I mentioned his inheritance riding on the arranged marriage. It was more than that.

"Unnle!" Jessie moaned. She wanted her 'uncle'.

It was her. Jessie. Our daughter.

Could Madam Boss have discovered our secret? She certainly knew that he had wanted to be with me, but could she have guessed that he was the father of my child? I thought back to the first time Madam Boss had laid eyes on Jessie, just earlier in the week. She had taken extra pause observing my daughter. Did she see a bit of her son in Jessie?

Suddenly I realized why he had to go through with his mother's demands.

Because Madam Boss had threatened the one person he and I would do anything for. She had threatened the one person who made us run, who made our lives worth living.

I felt a twinge of anger mixed with hurt. Hurt at being betrayed by my boss, hurt at losing the man I loved.

"Mama? Unnle?" Jessie babbled softly.

"Mama and Uncle won't let anything happen to you, Jessie," I whispered, "No matter what, you'll be safe."

He would do anything to keep her safe.

And so would I.

Twenty-five and a half years later, I stood in front of my now grown daughter. She was a beautiful young woman, earnestly listening as her 'uncle' told her our story. Her red curls were longer now, and her beautiful eyes that always captured me so still had a sparkle to them, even after all she had been through.

My eyes were drawn to the chains on her wrists, a punishment for defying the leader of Team Rocket.

Those chains would be the death of her.

"Mama won't let anything happen to you, Jessie. Your father, too," I whispered, though my words went unheard.

Even now, across time and space, it was her that motivated me, that made me tick, that called me to action.

Even if the price was eternal damnation or fiery torment, I would find a way to help her.

"No matter what, you'll be safe," I promised.

Never before have I wanted so badly to live.

End

AN: Thanks for reading and I hope you review and let me know what you think. This is kind of a one-shot based on my fic, Fated, but it can stand alone, which is why I didn't reveal the father's name. Miya and Jessie moments just make me melt and I just had to write this after writing the latest Fated chapter.

Disclaimer - I do not own Pokemon or its characters, nor do I own the song 'You' by Fisher, which inspired this story and the title of the fic.