Hi, Friends! This fic is about a girl named Savannah and the family she recently joined due to her mother's overdose, playing Peter and Paul's game. The happy, wealthy family is not all that it seems to be, and neither is Savannah. This story is rated M for a reason, and I will be sure to list warnings at the beginning of each chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Funny Games, the movie, characters, or the plot. The plot and my original characters are mine, and mine only.

Warnings: Mention of drug/alcohol use, death, inappropriate behavior from family members, abuse, blood, violence, and the usual Peter+Paul behavior.

Savannah Harris puffed out a breath to blow her frizzy hair off her sweaty forehead. The lake air was fresh, but humid and thick. Her newly acquired family was playing a car game, skipping her turn each time around. She was fine with it, they didn't know each other. She thought back to the days with her mother. The case worker looked upon her with pity, but she didn't get it. No one did.

The gate appeared, and they drove down the long, flashy, cobblestone driveway before arriving at the house. It was every bit as beautiful and over the top as she had imagined. The two lions positioned on either side of the door gave some air of royalty, even though the family living inside was anything but. Lawrence Reid was a slime ball if Savannah had ever heard of one. He was a successful lawyer, catering to the stars, but that was just the surface. He was notorious for traveling with cases, and sleeping with any willing female while visiting.

Her mother was one of them, only he would visit her every time he came to town, which was often. She had truly loved him, something her daughter would never understand. When she told him she was pregnant with Savannah, he left, and never came back. She fell into drugs after that, and a few months ago, she had overdosed. Savannah had found her, but it was too late, and they shipped her off to live with the next of kin. That just so happened to be Larry, and he could no longer run from the mistake he made 17 years ago.

Now, she was sitting in the car, suffocating in the tension radiating from herself, Larry, his wife, Margaret, and their son, Rodney. This trip was planned for healing and bonding, but that idea was quickly fading. Margaret hated Savannah's guts. She made that clear in her cold glares and harsh words. Rodney was a complete moron. He didn't understand the relation between the two of them, and had made multiple advances toward the girl. She had caught him peeking under the bathroom door while showering, but the adults would never believe that their golden boy could do any wrong.

Savannah set her backpack down, staring up at the looming house. This was their vacation home, and it didn't even compare to their main home. She started when she felt a hand on her lower back, only to find Larry looking at her with a smug smile.

"Nice, huh?" he asked in a haughty tone.

"It sure is," she answered, uncomfortable with him so close to her.

She entered the house, rolling her eyes at the extravagant entry hallway that opened into a living room larger than the home she had shared with her mother. The end of the hall had a kitchen that belonged on the cover of a magazine, and a marble staircase. She set her bag down by the stairs and turned to help Margaret lug her three suitcases out of the trunk. Once the car was unloaded, she put the food in the fridge.

"We're gonna go out and launch the boat," Larry trailed off.

"And I'll stay back here and take a shower," Savannah replied, picking up that he meant 'not you' when he said 'we'.

Relief filled his face at not having to openly exlcude her. Even though he found her very existence inconvenient, at least she knew her place.

"We'll be back when it gets dark. Have dinner ready when we get back," he told her.

She gave him a nod before he left through the back door.

She immediately started on dinner, preparing a lasagna that would be ready before the family got back. She didn't normally eat with them. None of them could hold an appetite in the the tension that surrounded meal times. Soon, the food was in the oven and she had a couple hours to spare until the family returned.

Having the house to herself, Savannah took a long, hot shower. She hadn't had the luxury on account of the creep that watched her under the door. When she got out, she remembered that she had left her clothes downstairs. Scolding herself as she looked for a towel, she realized there were none.

At least she was home alone, she tried to calm herself as she ran downstairs, as naked as the day she was born.

Savannah had just pulled on her bra and underwear when she heard a noise she had been dreading.

A knock.

She grabbed one of her large sweatshirts that fell to her mid thigh and turned to look at the door. A boy around her age was standing with blushing cheeks and a sheepish smile. She felt her face flush in mortification.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I just- I just f-forgot my bag down here... I'm sorry," she stuttered, unable to look into his eyes.

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and met his blue gaze, "Hi, I'm Savannah, how can I help you?"

"I'm Peter, we're staying with the Duncan family the enxt house over. Francine, I mean Mrs. Duncan, was making something and she needs eggs. Would you be able to help us out with some?" he asked in a soft voice.

Savannah opened the door wider, allowing him in the house with a smile, "Of course, follow me," she said. She stopped at her bag again to pull on a pair of black track shorts.

When he reached the kitchen, the smell of the lasagna hit his nose and his stomach growled. Savannah smirked, and pulled the tray out of the oven. As it was cooling to the stove, she reached in the fridge and pulled out carton of eggs. She set four in a bowl before turning around to face him, catching his stare on her backside. He quickly averted his gaze to the lasagna before meeting her eyes.

"Would you like some before you go?" she asked with a smile.

His eyes widened and he nodded eagerly, "Yes, please, if it isn't too much to ask."

"Oh, of course," she said while serving up a plate.

He sat and ate while Savannah busied herself in the kitchen, washing the dishes. She didn't notice the glint in Peter's eye as she returned the knife back to the knife drawer. She finished the dishes to hear a voice at the front door.

"Hello?" a male voice called.

Savannah rushed to the door, drying her hands on the kitchen towel. Another boy around her age was standing on the porch with a friendly smile on his face. His eyes held an intimidating coldness, but she knew not be judgmental.

"Hi, I'm Savannah. Let me guess, you're looking for Peter?" she asked with a grin.

He broke into a smile, nodding and sticking his hand out, "Paul."

Savannah noticed that they were both wearing white gloves, which was pretty strange. They also were dressed similarly, in white shirts and shorts, but that wasn't uncommon. The girls she had gone to school with used to match outfits with their friends all the time.

"Well, come on in. Sorry, I've been holding him hostage with lasagna. You can have some too, if you want," she said, grabbing his hand and turning to lead him to the kitchen. She jumped when she saw Peter standing in the doorway with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Paul, you should try it. Savannah is such a polite host, and her lasagna is delicious," Petr said, holding Paul's gaze. They clearly were having some sort of nonverbal conversation, so Savannah excused herself to the kitchen.

"Hey, Paul?" she called.

"Yes?" he said from the entryway.

"Would you like some lasagna? I can send some with you if you need to get going," she said.

"Oh, that would be wonderful, and we're in no rush," he said staring at the lasagna.

"Okay, have a seat then," Savannah said with a smile. "Peter, would you like seconds?"

"Oh, yes please," he said with a grin.

Soon, the boys were sitting at the table, eating as if they hadn't eaten in days. The sun was beginning to set, and the family would be home soon.

The plates were cleard soon, and after Paul rejected a econd helping, Savannah took the plates to the sink and washed them. She looked over her shoulder at the boys, finding them staring at her in a way that had heat blossoming in her cheeaks and traveling lower.

"Well, I have your eggs, and not that I don't enjoy the company, but the Reid clan will be returning soon. You'll want to save yourself from the awkwardness that surrounds our every interaction," she trailed off.

The boys rose from their seats and Savannah handed the eggs over to Paul. They headed to the door before Paul tripped over the long runner in the hallway, causing the eggs to crack. The yolk was definitely going to stain, and Savannah would never hear the end of it.

"Shit!" Paul exclaimed, looking at Savannah calculatingly. Soon she would lash out at the boys and the game could begin.

Savannah's eyes widened, her breathing rate increasing until she was hyperventilating. Tears filled her cinnamon colored eyes and she couldn't tear her eyes from the spot on the carpet.

Voice shaking, she told the boy, "Let's go get you some more eggs, I need to clean this up before they- before they get home."

Paul and Peter shared a look before following her into the kitchen. Her hands shook as she placed the carton in Paul's gloved hand.

"Go ahead and grab the ones you need. I... I need to get that stain out," she said as if she was in a trance.

Savannah scrubbed the spot anxiously, thinking back to the last time she had messed up. Margaret had stepped on her hand with her Burberry heel, as she frantically swept up broken glass, breaking her pinky finger. It was still in its splint. This rug, though. This rug was probably at least $4,000. Larry didn't own anything if it wasn't the best. It was probably one of a kind. Savannah was panicking at the though of just how screwed she was.

"Hey, sorry about the- Are you okay?" Paul asked. He had never seen a player react so badly to him breaking the eggs.

"Wha-" Savannah realized that she had been crying. "Oh. Yeah. I'm fine. You got the eggs?" she asked.

"Yeah... Anyway, sorry about the carpet. I can be so clumsy sometimes," he said, staring at her, analyzing her every reaction.

"Oh, it's fine. Margaret's reactions can't get any worse, I suppose," she said, glancing at her broken finger.

Peter's eyes flashed. The boys had some unspoken discussion before they thanked Savannah for the food and the eggs and left. She returned to the spot, and saw that it was improving, but she could tell that there would always be some discoloration.

The Reid family returned about 20 minutes after Peter and Paul had left. They ate dinner and proceeded to get drunk on some fancy red wine. That wine probably cost more than what she paid in rent when she lived with her mother. It was nights like these that she wished that they were able to save her.

After the dishes were done, Savannah tried to slip away to bed when she heard an infuriated screech. She paused at the bottom step, closing her eyes and taking a shaky breath.

"SAVANNAH, YOU LITTLE SHIT! GET BACK HERE! NOW!" Margaret screamed.

"Yes?" Savannah whimpered with her head bowed submissively.

"You wanna tell what the fuck I'm looking at right now?" Mragaret asked, her voice dangeroudly low.

"I gave the neighbors some eggs... and he tripped and spilled them I can get the stain out, it will just take some-" Savannah began, but was cut off by Margaret slapping her. She got in a couple more hits until she gave a final punch.

"That was imported from Thailand, you idiot! That runner costs more than you're worth! You ruin everything you touch! Get out of my sight!" Margaret shouted, shoving Savanna into the wall, making her see stars.

Savannah busied herself in scrubbing at the stain in a frenzy. Eventually, Margaret sat in front of the television and ignored Savannah. Tears blurred Savannah's vision, and she let out a choked sob. She heard footsteps behind her and expected to hear Rodney make a snide comment, but instead, she felt a hand stroking her hair. A disgusting cloud of Drakkar Noir assaulted her senses, making her eyes water.

Larry.

"You look so beautiful on your knees, Audrey," he slurred.

"Larry, it's me, Savannah. Your daughter?" she said in an exasperated tone.

This was not the first time he had mistaken her for her mother. She was practically a carbon copy of the woman. They had the same curly blonde hair and upwards tilted amber eyes. Savannah had inherited her mother's pouty lips and high cheekbones. The only thing different was that Savannah had inherited Larry's pale complexion and freckles.

"I'm gonna get you one day. Just you wait," he said before joining his wife on the couch.

As the clock struck 8, the floor looked as good as new, and Savannah stood, taking the cleaning supplies back to put them under the sink. She stood up after closing the cabinet and looked out the window. She let out a small scream when she saw a face looking back at her.

She went to the front door, and opened it, only to be met with the sight of Peter and Paul.

"Hey, what can I do for you?" she asked in a weary voice.

"You're bleeding," Peter said in a cold tone.

"Wha- Oh," Savannah said, touching her cheek and pulling her hand back to see blood on it. Margaret's gaudy ring must have cut her when she was beating on her.

"Anyway, how can I help you?" she asked, nervously looking over her shoulder.

"We were going to call our parents, but the Duncan family's phone doesn't work out here, and we were wondering if we could use your landline," Peter said.

"Close the fucking door! Larry works hard for that air conditioning that your white trash ass is letting out!" Margaret yelled.

Paul's eyes lit up. Maybe there would be a game here after all.

"Um, sure, please just try to make it quick. They are in a bad mood tonight," Savannah said in a shaky voice, opening the door wider to allow them in.

She showed them the phone before giving them privacy to make their phone calls. She heard them speaking quietly as she made her way into the living room.

Savannah coughed awkwardly, gaining the attention of the two drunken adults. "The neighbor boys are here to use the phone," she mumbled.

"Did you ask permission before you invited two boys over?" Margaret asked in a sharp tone.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know they were going to show up. I was just trying to be nice," Savannah said, shifting on her feet nervously.

"I bet you fucked them while we were gone. A slut just like your mother," Larry slurred.

Savannah's nostrils flared. The one thing she would not tolerate from anyone was speaking ill of the woman who raised her.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Larry. You didn't think she was a slut when you visited her every month and made me, did you?" Savannah snapped before taking a deep breath and returning to the kitchen. She shut her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool wood.

"Are you alright?" she heard Paul ask.

Savannah cracked one eye open and gave them a small, tired smile.

"I will be. Sometimes they make me want to go on a killing spree, you know?" she said, huffing a frustrated laugh. Her head was still swimming from the blows she took from Margaret.

"Would you let Peter look at the cut on your face? He's a medical student," Paul said, looking at her bleeding face with an unknown emotion smoldering in his eyes.

"I'm sure I'll be fine. I wouldn't want to hold you here for that long," she said.

"I insist," Peter said, leaving no room for argument.

Savannah sighed, reaching for the top of the fridge for the first aid kit, only to feel a lean body pressing against her back. Paul gave her a wink as he grabbed the kit. Savanna hopped on the counter top and Peter set to work, cleaning and bandaging the scratch going through her eyebrow. She was so absorbed in the feel of Peter's gloved hands on her face and the heat his body radiated, she didn't notice the sound of the kitchen door opening.

"So these are the boys you have been fucking," Margaret slurred.

Savannah winced as her cheeks flushed. Margaret was never fun when she was angry drunk.

Peter's hands paused in taping the bandage to her face. She felt him release a breath before finishing up his work. Luckily, Paul was quick to respond.

"Ma'am, I think you're mistaken. Your daughter has not been anything but appropriate and polite to us," Paul assured.

"That ugly shit isn't my daughter," Margaret snapped.

"My apologies. Hi, I'm Paul. We came over to use your phone," he said, extending a gloved hand.

Margaret just stared at it.

"Larry, come meet the boys your bastard has been whoring around with!" Margaret called, looking at Savannah with a satisfied, malicious smirk.

"Who the fuck're you?" Larry growled, his eyes unfocused.

"Larry, baby, I don't like these boys. Throw them out!" Margaret whined.

"Sir, I think your wife has a misunderstanding of what is going on here. Savannah allowed us to come here earlier, and was kind enough to give us some eggs. We came back tonight because we needed to make a phone call. Now, Tom just finished cleaning up Savannah's face," Paul said.

"Oh, let me introduce myself. I'm Paul, and this is Peter," he said, extending his hand.

Larry looked at Paul's pristine white gloved hand, and his fave filled with rage.

"You're the sack of shit that ruined my carpet!" he roared, grabbing Paul's arm roughly and shoving him toward the door.

"Sir, it was purely accidental, this reaction is out of proportion," Peter's soft voice insisted.

Margaret stepped toward Peter with her hand raised to strike. Savannah was off the counter in less than a second and between the two. Larry saw this movement and a lunged toward her. He landed one hard slap to her face before her dropped to the ground with a pained shout.

Paul was holding a rolling pin, and they had all heard the snap of his Achilles tendon.

Time stood still for a moment before Margaret and Savannah both felt the hair stand up on the back of their necks. It was a reasonable reaction.

It was how anyone reacts upon realization that they were in the presence of dangerous animals.