Thanks so much to Hikoshi for properly editing this for me! I really appreciate it!

This is my very first story- and the first story for my Real World Wreck-it Ralph AU! I'm so excited to share it!

(a little note from the future lol- I really didn't realize how dark this story is until now, so be warned I guess- this gets kinda heavy, especially in later chapters)

Please enjoy, and thank you for reading and reviewing!

She was so tired.

It was the only thing she could think about. Maybe in retrospect her great escape should have been more thought out. She could've taken up little odd jobs, saved up money to get a bus ticket, or rationed food instead of just roaming the very town "the King" lived, where she could easily be found. But she doubted he cared, or even noticed her gone. He'd notice when nobody cooked or cleaned or did all of the chores of caring for a child that he was supposed to do.

Though, it had been almost two days.

Two long days the 9 year old had spent walking aimlessly around the city, kicking herself for making a stupid plan and not thinking ahead. But she just couldn't take it anymore. The last shouting match had been the last straw. She was sick of being pushed around and called names by a grown man, someone who was supposed to care about her, be her guardian, but turned out to be like all the other foster parents before him. So she left, with all her personal items fitting in her little backpack.

But that had been (almost) two days ago. Thirty-six hours without food or sleep, and she didn't know how much longer she could handle it.

Of course she had briefly considered going back, but she realized she'd rather die than return to that house. And there was a good chance she might, she wouldn't put it past him to get rid of her, he always threatened to. And no one would notice a foster kid's disappearance. And even if they did, he wouldn't get in trouble, King never got in trouble, he was the craftiest person she knew.

So she kept going, she didn't see any other options. No money, no job, and no prospect for a job- nobody would hire a scruffy, homeless 9 year old- nobody would hire a 9 year old at all-she was pretty sure there were laws against that. But maybe a nice family would come to the seedy side of town just looking for a homeless child to take home.

"No," she thought, "now you're just being stupid, that stuff only happens in movies."

This wasn't the first time she'd escaped an abusive home, just the longest time she'd gone without returning or being found. When she was younger, around five, her foster family at the time (who were the second worst behind King) used to say after each escape (it happened a lot) that she'd be back when she got hungry.

That was true, near dinner time, the little girl could be found gingerly standing on the porch, only gone for a few hours. But upon returning, she wouldn't find dinner waiting, instead, she'd find a fist in her face, be yelled at and called names, and sent to bed hungry.

Looking back, she didn't really understand why she kept going back, but, she supposed, she was a little kid and didn't really know any better. She still didn't really know what to do.

Caught up in her reminiscing, she didn't realize how dark and cold it had become until she shivered involuntarily. All she had on was an old t-shirt and ripped jeans. And nowhere to go on the coldest night since her escape.

Her hope was fading fast, her grandiose visions of life outside the King's domain all but gone. She was hungry, thirsty, tired, and now cold, and she didn't know how much longer she'd last before either getting caught or trudging back in desperation. Her hazel eyes started to fill with angry tears.

"This is not how it was supposed to be," she whispered again, not indulging the tears.

Crying wouldn't accomplish anything except show that she was weak and had given up. And weakness was not something she could afford to show. Vulnerability only got you hurt. After blinking the tears away, though, she found that her vision was not clear, but was still blurred, only now by black spots. She became dizzy and was seized by panic for a split second before everything suddenly went black.

"Wow, it got cold fast," the large man mused absently to get his mind off the darker thoughts clouding his brain.

Today had been rough.

It wasn't his fault, he was just doing his job, but somehow that made him the bad guy. How could someone who wasn't heartless make a living from ruining the livelihoods of others? Every time he received his paycheck he thought the same thing. Maybe they were right, maybe he was just a bad guy.

Working that job wouldn't be half as bad though if he had something, or someone to go home to. A pet, a partner, a family, maybe. But no, all Ralph had to go home to was a dark, cold apartment in the sketchy part of town.

Looking like a thug (which wasn't even his fault), and roaming the sketchiest area of the city made people wary. He couldn't stand the looks he got from people, they always looked at him as if he were going to mug them or something. In truth, the hulking man didn't have a mean bone in his body, and was actually quite sensitive.

If anyone cared to get to know me, they'd see that I'm so lonely I'd be more likely kidnap somebody for company than hurt them, he thought, trying to reassure himself that the looks were wrong and that he was just misunderstood, something that got harder to do each day.

But that didn't work tonight. The harassment from his coworkers and the people he had to crush to do his job, the depressing feeling of coming home to an empty, sad house, and a general feeling of hopelessness weighed heavily on him.

As he turned down the alley he used as a shortcut to avoid the judgmental stares, distracted by his thoughts, he almost didn't notice his foot brush against something.

Stopping for a moment, he almost allowed himself to continue on his way, not wanting to be out in the cold longer than he had to be. But something made him turn back. Maybe it was the low whimper that came from the thing he had almost stepped on. The trash that usually filled the alley definitely didn't make sounds like that, or any sound for that matter. He turned around and as he moved closer to whatever it was, it made another sound, and it sounded for a fleeting second as if it was trying to say something.

He gave the smallest chuckle. "You've finally lost it, Ralph," he whispered to himself. That couldn't possibly be a person. It was probably just an- animal. Yeah, just and animal.

Then it made another noise. Animals didn't hiccup, did they?

His stomach started to twist. This was a person! It had to be! But it was so small, it couldn't be a...child, could it?

He stepped closer, speaking in a quiet, placating voice in case the thing, no, person, was lucid enough to know he was there. As he knelt down, he took his phone's flashlight out (it was basically the only thing on the phone he knew how to use) and shined it on them.

Blinking hard at the bright light and letting out a pained whine, a pair of wide hazel eyes slowly met his own. It was a child, a little girl. She had black hair tied into a very messy ponytail with lots of different barrettes in it, a dirty shirt and equally dingy jeans, and she looked pitiful. He didn't realize how long he'd sat there with the light focused on her, so many question racing through his mind, but he was startled out of his stupor when she made another pained noise, and he found her still staring at him, confusion on her face, and deep in her eyes a feeling he was all to used to seeing directed at him-fear.

Of course, dummy, he berated himself, adults are scared of you, why wouldn't a kid be? Especially in this kind of circumstance.

He realized how weird this all must look.

"U-uhm," he stuttered.

He had no idea what to do. What were you supposed to do with a random child you found in an alley? Was she lost? Did she have a home- a family? He had no idea, and he didn't even know where to start. Ralph wasn't an expert, but it was incredibly obvious that if this little girl did have a home, it wasn't a good one. He could sympathize. He was about to ask her where her family was, or if she had one, but before he could she spoke.

"P-ple-ease d-don't tell K-k-king," she stuttered in a weak voice.

She hated how small she sounded, but found she just couldn't muster the energy right now, and of course the stutter decided to come out now as well.

"Wha- who's King?" he questioned, his worry increasing by the second.

The girl took a closer look at this stranger, and saw something in his eyes she hadn't seen in a long, long time-concern. This man was concerned about her, a random runaway kid he'd found in an alley.

"Who's King?" he asked again, more urgently.

"H-he didn't send-d you to find m-me?" Now she was confused. King hired thugs just like this guy, they were always hanging around the house. What for, she didn't know, but it couldn't be good. She was sure she'd been caught.

"Kid, you're making me worry. Who're you talking about? Are you lost? Where's your family?"

He was asking too many questions, she could feel a headache start to throb at her temples. She moved her hand to her aching forehead and the man finally seemed to realize he was overwhelming her.

"Oh- sorry." he said sheepishly.

"I-it's not i-important who I'm talking about, n-no I'm not lost, a-and no, I don't have a f-family," she said, scowling up at the man while answering all of his questions at once.

Having the answers did nothing to alleviate his worries, however. Instead, they caused the knot to in his stomach to twist tighter. She didn't have a family. How could she not have a family? Or a home?

The cold tonight was biting, even for Ralph who generally liked cooler weather; she couldn't stay out here. Plus, she certainly wasn't well, why else would she have been laying in an alley? He didn't know the last time she ate either. There had to be someone responsible for her- right? Was King her guardian? Was he-whoever he was- looking for her? He could be accused of kidnapping, or worse, and he already had a bad reputation. But then again, whoever let her get to this point probably wasn't a very good person anyway. He tried not to judge people like that, but with the state this kid was it was hard not to judge.

He looked back at the little girl resolutely, "Well then, I guess you'll be coming home with me tonight."

She looked at him with impossibly wide eyes. "W-what're you-?"

"You heard me, you're coming home with me."

"N-no, I couldn't-" she protested.

"Oh yes you can, and you will. It's too cold for you to spend the night out here, and when's the last time you ate or had a good night's sleep? Or a meal for that matter?"

When she didn't answer, he felt his temper flare, and he scooped her up, earning a surprised yelp from the girl. She winced at the rapid movement and the pain that intensified because of it and tried her best to glare at him, and failed.

But he got the point. He smiled sheepishly for a moment before becoming serious again.

"Look, I'm sorry kid, but I can't leave you here." He was so stern and resolute that she just stared at him for a moment, surprised. She didn't argue further, not really having the energy or desire to, and they continued down the street.

The dark urban environment was the same eerie quiet Ralph was used to as he continued his usual walk home, except this time was different. He was not alone. This has been the most eventful night I've had in a long time, he mused, before looking down at the little girl, who'd begun to shift in his arms.

"You're- you're shivering" he said simply as he stopped walking.

"No k-kidding, what an a-astute obs-servation. Y-ya w-wanna m-medal for figuring th-that one out?"

He ignored the little quip and gently set her down on the sidewalk. She looked up, confused, immediately starting to scold herself. Of course you messed things up with your big mouth. You never know when to shut up, do ya?

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't-" she started to apologize before giving the tiniest involuntary flinch as he lifted his arm, getting it out of his jacket sleeve. This gesture not lost on him, he winced as if he himself had been struck, knowing this type of situation all too well, and knelt down to her level.

"Hey, kid, look, it's alright. I was just taking my jacket off, see?"

"B-but it's freezing! Why're you-"

She was cut off, her question immediately answered as he wrapped the huge article around her tiny frame and picked her back up.

"B-but-"she tried to protest, but then realized she didn't know this benevolent stranger's name.

Knowing the question on her tongue, he answered, "Ralph."

"But- Ralph! Y-you can't give me this! What about you?!" He smiled. Someone was actually worried about him.

"I'll be fine, my house is only a few minutes from here anyway."

She didn't look convinced. He felt her shifting again, and was about to ask what she was doing now, when he had the same dilemma his little companion had just a moment before.

"Hey...what's your name, kid?"

She hummed in response, too occupied with whatever she was doing to answer. He was starting to become impatient when her intentions became clear. She spread the edges of the jacket over his shoulders, her attempt to keep both of them warm. He smiled, but she just stared back for a moment before mumbling, "Vanellope. My name is Vanellope."

The forbidden name, the nickname King hated more than anything, it felt so good to use it. At home, if you could call it that, the simple utterance of this name would send the man into an almost comical rage. She would laugh as discreetly as she could as he shouted her real name over and over and over with his terrible lisp. She almost laughed at the thought.

"I'm sorry, what?" the large man asked incredulously, taking her out of her thoughts.

"That's my name, or at least, it is as far as you know." Before he could say anything in response, the tiny girl disappeared into the huge hood of the jacket.

That's-that's not a name, he thought to himself.

Ralph was more confused than ever and slightly overwhelmed as well. His night had changed in the blink of an eye from a normal, lonely night into an ordeal that resulted in his taking in a sassy runaway using an alias. Life was weird that way, he guessed.

He was about to ask her more, but then felt her instinctively snuggle into his chest, and make a tiny sound he assumed was a yawn, and decided to leave her be, the tiniest smile on his face. Answers could wait, even though the questions burned in his mind.

Ten minutes later, upon getting home, he found "Vanellope" fast asleep in his jacket hood.