Hey, guys! As promised to certain folk, a tale surrounding one of our favorite boys! Except, this is a story. I'll post my one shots during and after story progress.

Warning: Humanized

Don't Give Up On Me

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." The woman murmured, kissed the little boy's forehead and smoothed down his hair, which stuck out a different places no matter how many times she tried to smooth it.

"Momma?"

"No no," she bent down, biting down on her lip so that it would stop quivering, "you cannot call me that anymore."

The boy blinked at her, not sure of what she was talking about. He didn't notice that they were waiting on the sidewalk, in the middle of nowhere, at least to him, at night. From what he knew, nothing good ever came from night. But he chose to ignore that fact as he looked up at the woman, the only living thing he can see, and tugged on her shirt.

"Momma?"

"Baby," she let out a sob and pulled the boy closer into a hug, placing her head on top of the little boy's, "Baby, I'm so sorry. I still love you, sweetheart. Never forget that. Alright, baby?" He was confused; he didn't know why they were here in the first place. He was just woken up for no reason, dressed up and brushed in minutes and were now waiting on the sidewalk. A car pulled up before them and he just stared at the jovial yet serious man behind the wheel.

"Are you alright there?" He was snapped out of the memory but he didn't acknowledge the man who spoke. "Bud?" The boy still didn't answer him. He never did answer to anyone. Only to his mother, or should he not call her that? She did tell him not to, but should he? "Still not talking, huh?"

Ma told me never to talk to strangers.

It was only hours ago when the woman placed him in the car, even buckling him in to be sure he wouldn't jump out, because she didn't get in the car too. Even when he was screaming and struggling to get the seat belt off, she just stood there with a sad smile, waving after the car like a moving mannequin. It upset him greatly, but she told him never to cry. That it wasn't worth it to cry over anything.

"Hey," the man slightly nudged him but he didn't respond. The man sighed and turned his attention back to the road. "Well, she did say you didn't talk to anyone but her..." Still no answer. The man was losing any hope that he could even warm up to the kid. Well, he did lose his chance when he drove away without his mother, but that was his job. Still, no matter how many times it happened, it still broke his heart to take away kids from their families. He never wanted this job, but if it kept his own family together, he'd do it. With a smile, the man took out a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket and unfolded it. He looked at it briefly, feeling his nervousness go away at the sight of the baby he was carrying. The picture really was just printed on a piece of now worn out paper, but he was glad he had it. Even if the baby was now a little toddler, he was still happy he at least had a picture of her. It was better than nothing at all.

His own family...How selfish of him. Here was this kid beside him without anyone and he was musing about the one person who was counting on him. He had to think about this boy first. The man looked at the stone faced boy with a tiny smile and turned back to the road.

"So," he tapped the wheel nervously, thinking of something good to say, "you've been to school before?" School, really? The man chastised himself but it went away when the boy turned to him, the curiosity clear on his face. "You know," he started to elaborate, a little shocked that the boy didn't know about school, "school? Where you learn new stuff?" The boy tilted his head at him, still confused. He wasn't talking, but at least he was acknowledging him. That was all he wanted, for now. "Teachers teach you stuff, and you learn them. Sometimes you get to draw too and they pin it up on boards for people to see."

Draw? At the word, the boy blinked, picked up his bag and placed it on his lap. He reached into it and pulled out a drawing pad. He looked through it by himself and the man watched from the corner of his eye, not wanting to disturb him. After a few minutes, he looked at the dashboard since it was at his eye level and stared at it, the drawing pad opened at a certain page of a drawing in pencil.

"You draw?" The boy turned his head to him and the man stared back. "You like to draw?" The boy seemed to stop breathing for a while, before he let out his breath through his nose and nodded. "Cool." His eyes drifted to the pad in the boy's hands before turning back to the road.

Again, from the corner of his eye, he could see the boy contemplating over something. He didn't know what, but he doubted he would talk anytime soon. He was wrong. Next thing he knew, the boy was on his knees, well as much as he could with the seat belt over him.

"Hey! Hey," the boy stopped moving and stared at him, "be careful there, man. We're in a moving car. You shouldn't be moving about like that. It's dangerous." The boy tilted his head at him, as if to say 'huh?'. The man sighed and searched for a word to replace 'dangerous'. "It's not safe, alright? You could get hurt."

"Draw." He sounded like he was croaking, probably because he didn't talk much. It shocked the man, but he didn't show it and looked at the pad that the boy was pointing at. "Me. Draw." The man briefly looked at the page and was about to comment when something caught him. He took a closer look at the pad and his eyes grew to the size of tea cup saucers.

"Holy..." He stopped himself before he could complete his thought with the reminder that there was kid beside him. Instead, he blinked, not able to believe the picture before him. "Oh, you're good!" He grinned at the boy, who stared at him before turning back to the drawing. "This is amazing. I mean, you used charcoal here. Not many people can do that, and well, you're just a kid!" The boy stared at him again. "Well, maybe not just a kid. I mean," the man shook his head with a smile and gestured to the paper, "look at this. Maybe you can be an artist when you grow up." The boy frowned at him, then flipped the page to one of a crayon drawing. This, compared to the charcoal drawing, was actually drawn by your typical child. "Oh..." The man winced and gritted his teeth, trying to hide his expression behind a smile. "You can do charcoal but you can't do crayon?" The boy frowned even more, snapped the pad shut and stuffed it into his bag. He kicked the bag down, crossed his arms and slouched down. "Okay, okay, sorry about that, but you're really good. Maybe I can sign you up for art lessons. They'll help you draw with crayon. I mean," the man shrugged and brought the car back on the road, "you're awesome. I mean, who can do that? Actually, I know a bunch of people," he shook his head when he found the boy staring at him again, "but my point is, I'm practically only good with drawing stick figures." The boy giggled quietly and the man shook his head. "Okay okay, wise guy. You don't need to laugh. Just because you're better at me in drawing, doesn't mean you're all that." The boy nodded obediently and sat back, looking a bit more relaxed, compared to before.

They were already on the highway when a rumbling sound echoed in the little car. The man blinked at the intensity of the sound and looked over at the boy. Embarrassed, the little boy grabbed his stomach and bent over.

"You hungry?" The man asked him, but he didn't answer. It sent him into a little panic, since they were 'talking' just moments before. However, something else plagued his mind. "I reckon you're hungry with that growling tummy of yours. I suppose I would too if I didn't get to eat. Heck, just this morning, I had to give my last pizza slice to my baby sis," the boy's head shot up and turned to him, but he didn't notice as he continued to rant, "'cause she wanted it, so I didn't get to eat either. Maybe we can-"

"Pizza?"

"What?" The man turned to see the boy's eyes widen in excitement as he bounced up and down on his seat and clapped.

"Pizza!"

"Oh uh...I was just giving an example or something. You're going to-"

"PIZZA! Pizza pizza pizza!" The boy chanted with fists going up and down. "PIZZA! I want pizza!"

"Okay, okay. I'm sure the diner I saw earlier has some. You just gotta wait. Can you do that?"

"Pizza!"

"Just a few minutes, man. For now, you'll have to sit down and wait. We'll get there soon. Promise."

The boy sighed dejectedly and crossed his arms. "Who'kay." He murmured with a pout and leaned against the backrest.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but you are so cute, man. Like one of those kids from those tv shows." He earned a frown from the boy, which only intensified his cuteness.

"No."

"What? You don't like cute?"

"No. Not cute."

"Yes you are."

"No."

"Aw," the man spoke in a teasing voice, "come on. You're such a cute little-"

"NO!" The man's eyes shot wide open at the boy's outburst. "NOT CUTE!"

"Okay, okay! I get it," he held his hands up in surrender while they were still on the wheel, "I get it. No need to go all Hulk on me."

"Hulk?"

"Yeah, it's the green monster thingy from Avengers. My sis loves those guys. Especially the Hawkeye one." He snickered. "She has a little itty bitty crush on the guy from the movie."

"Avengers?"

"Oh man. What kind of childhood did you have?" The boy stared at him, his head still tilted. The man sighed then snapped his fingers when he thought of something. "We're bound to reach the motel soon. Maybe we can watch the movie from there. Trust me, you'll love it."