A/N: This story is set after Season Two's 50th episode, though several things have changed. Instead of being thirty something, most of the digidestined are around twenty six. Some of their children I know what they look like, others I'm just guessing. I gave them names though! Yay! Err, Matt never became an astronaut, that's just too . . . unrealistic. However, he did break up with his band only to form another, more mature alternative rock band after he moved to the Americas. Why? Cuz I said so. Tehe. For now it's Sorato shudder but I promise a different relationship kofftaikofftokoff further on. Where am I going with this fic? Not quite sure to be honest, but a word of caution . . . I was drinking Mountain Dew, eating salted cashews and listening to Nirvana when I wrote this, so yeah. Tehe!

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Chapter One:They Deserve Better

The rain outside of his widow tapped out a gentle rhythm upon the glass, drowned out only by the incessant noise of the city around him. But then again, Matt was used to it. With a flick of his thumb a small flame came to life in the lighter he clutched in his hand. Moody blue eyes watched the flame carefully, perhaps paying a little too much attention to it, but there were worse things to do than be a pyro, no? The end of his cigarette was lit and just as quickly as it had come to life the flame was extinguished. Taking a long drag to settle his nerves he resumed his pointless daydreams in staring out the window as the rain drops streamed down the window pane.

Wasn't it funny, when you have everything you thought you wanted, and still you were miserable? Matt had a loving wife, two adorable children; which he was blessed to have, a nice apartment in the rich part of a grand city in America, a successful alternative rock band far more mature then the one of his teens, and more money than he knew what to do with. So why did he have to drink to wash his thoughts away? Why was he forced to scathe his almost perfect skin with needle tracks in the dead of night? And his family, why did he neglect them so? They deserved far better than the father and husband he'd been to them.

He took another drag of the cigarette and clutched his head in his free hand. Blonde strands filtered through his fingers; calloused by years of playing the bass. Just another miserable ingrate rock star in a nation of miserable ungrateful stars. Would that they could shine brightly without the shroud of corruption the masses so love.

The smoke lingered in a fog around his thin and haggard body. Yeah, he'd once been the pretty boy everyone knew and loved, the rebel without a cause. What's the use now? People still thought of him as "hot" . . . in a trashed rocker on the verge of overdose kind of way. It's what they wanted. They wanted their pretty foreign rocker to take the plunge, nothing gave them more pleasure then to see the pedestal kicked out from under their idols. What a bunch of . . .

"Daddy, supper's ready."

A little blonde head peeked through the partially opened door to his "studio." Her voice reminded him of a more feminine version of himself at her age. Everything about her reminded him of himself at the age of seven.

Not hearing a response, the young girl pushed the door open further and squinted through the dark, smoky atmosphere of the room.

"Daddy?"

He took one more pull on his cigarette and smothered it upon the window sill along with half a dozen other butts.

"How many times do I have to tell you Tyler, not to disturb Daddy while he's working." His voice came out harsher than he'd meant it.

Tyler bowed her head in apology as she backed out of the room.

"Sorry Father."

Matt winced at the hurt tone in her voice, but he figured she should be used to it by now. He certainly was. Dragging himself from the stool he'd been perched upon he stepped out of the room, shutting his eyes tightly against the bright lights of the apartment.

"Damn lights." He muttered under his breath as he wiped the pained tears from his blood shot eyes and shuffled towards the dining room.

Slowly they became adjusted, and he halted as he came to the door frame to their dining room. There was his wife, Sora, smiling as cheerfully as ever as she brought the dinner out to the table. Cautiously he sniffed the food. For the past three years of their marriage it'd been she who cooked their meals, since he could hardly be bothered. He supposed she'd improved, but still, it was difficult for him to get used to the American food she insisted on making.

Then there was their son, little red headed Alex. As much as Tyler looked like him, Alex resembled his mother. At the tender age of four, he'd already proven to be very intelligent. At one point Matt even considered asking Izzy to try and tutor the kid, but it was only a passing consideration. He'd lost contact with the other digidestined a long time ago, much to Sora's disappointment. Even with Mimi, who last he'd heard, lived in the very same city as they themselves.

Without a word he shuffled to his usual spot at the opposite end of the table as his wife and sat down. Baked chicken, potatoes, and green beans. Didn't she know he hated green beans? Poking absently at the food, he ate little, mostly just shoving it around to look as though he'd eaten.

"So how was practice today honey? Have you written any new songs?" Sora asked brightly as she helped Alex cut up his chicken into smaller pieces.

"Same as it's always been Sora. Why do you insist on asking when you always get the same answer?" He replied in an agitated voice, shoving a forkful of potatoes in his mouth and promptly standing.

Sora tried her best not to let her hurt show to the children. Alex continued his chewing, blissfully ignorant of the growing tension. Tyler tried her best to continue on and ignore her father's comments, but even through she was young it was hard not to know what was going on.

Shaking his head in disgust Matt pushed his chair in and strode to the coat rack by the door and reached for his brown leather jacket.

"Matt! Wait!"

"What do you want now wench?" He hadn't meant to call her that, it just kind of slipped out.

Sora's eyes filled with tears, though through her stubbornness she refused to let them fall.

"Children, why don't you go play with the Anderson's next door? Mommy and Daddy need to talk."

Good god, here it comes. What in the world does this woman want from him now? The children obediently got up from the table, and Tyler took Alex's hand as they went out the door to the next apartment. With an annoyed sigh Matt hung his coat back up and turned to glare at Sora.

"Matt, I - I just can't take it anymore. You just aren't the same person I married eight years ago. You've turned into a bitter, hateful man, and don't think I don't know about your habits!" Her voice was strangled and on the verge of wracking sobs as she spoke this, and her hands wrung fiercely together. Matt's eyes narrowed dangerously as he advanced towards her. Sora shrunk back for every step forward he took.

"What are you saying woman?" His voice was laced with venom, disregarding the fear in which Sora looked upon him. His fists clenched and unclenched in barely contained fury. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what she was saying.

" I - I, Matt . . . I want a divorce." Sora said with great difficulty, and a squeal of terror escaped her as Matt closed the gap and grabbed a hold of her wrist and twisted it.

Sora bit her lip as he had her completely under his control. She'd known once she'd made up her mind to say it that something like this would happen, and that she wouldn't be able to do anything in her defense. Sora had to do this, however. For herself, and for the children. They just simply couldn't live like this anymore! With his drinking, his drugs, the late nights and his disappearances for weeks at a time . . . though she didn't want to put her thoughts to words, she feared, not so much for herself, but for her children. He'd changed far too much, and though she'd tried to fix it with her love for him, all it seemed to do was repulse him and push him away.

"You ungrateful bitch. Look at all I've done for you! Do you know how many people would kill just to spend one day picking up after me? And you have the nerve to want a divorce." He growled in a feral manner as he twisted harder and Sora couldn't help but let out a mewl of pain.

"You're hurting me Matt!" She cried out, and freely she let her tears fall.

This cry merely infuriated him further as he tightened his grip and twisted harder. Just a little bit more and her bones would break, Sora knew this. Pleadingly she looked into his hardened eyes and saw no emotion, not even the hatred she so expected to find. This scared her more then anything else.

It was then that the door opened and Tyler and Alex walked in.

"The Anderson's aren't home Mo . . ."

At first Tyler was busy keeping a hold upon the precocious toddler, but then her eyes rested upon the scene before them and she clung tightly to the little boy. At their entrance Matt snapped his head around to see his children, and then looked back to his sobbing wife. It seemed that things finally clicked, and his eyes opened wide in realization of what he would've been quite willing to do just a moment before.

"I suggest you fill out the paperwork then." Was all he managed to say as he nearly fled from his home, forgetting his jacket, thinking of nothing but escape.

Sora, for all her strength, could do nothing then but curl in upon herself, clutch her throbbing wrist, and cry. Alex broke away from his older sister's grasp and walked awkwardly over to his mother's side and wrapped his slightly chubby arms around her. Tyler merely stood watching this scene before her, a numb sense settling over her body. Sora looked up to see her daughter still standing by the door and held her arms out; an invitation to be comforted, as best as the distraught woman could do.

Overcome with emotions she couldn't even start to sort out she shook her head, looking upon her mother with a face that, so help her, reminded Sora of Matt, and she too fled the apartment, completely ignoring her mother's screeching pleas.

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A/N: Future chapters to come, aye. Please be nice in your reviews, this is only the second fanfic I've written!