Disclaimer; I do not own Pokemon, or any of it's characters. This fic is most likely going to turn into a Rui(aka Mirei) x Wes fanfiction, and with enough bribing from a friend of mine that got me hooked on this pair, this fic will hold a possible warning of lime/citrus. So you've been warned as this will most likely turn into something rated over PG or PG-13. Also forgive the typo's as my spell check is broken.

----------------------------------------------

Wes suppressed a sigh as he sat down on the bed, ignoring the squeaking of the springs as he eased his wieght onto it. Cold and cruel looking dark gold eyes glanced about the room that he called his. Wes leaned back, letting his arms brace his wieght as the young man focused his gaze unto the celling, face an emotinal blank mask. The door cracked open and Rui stuck her head in. "Hey, Wes. You hungry?"

Wes grunted in answer as he gazed over at Rui, "Hn, no. Not at the moment." He told her quietly, absently saw her bob her head and leave. He felt a twinge, and his chest ached for a few moments before it dulled and finaly went away. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, heart burn, regret or loneliness? Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. Moving, Wes lay on the bed, stretching out on his left side facing the wall, back to the door. He didn't feel like 'socilizing' at the moment, not with Rui, or the pokemon he had kept. A deep sigh escaped Wes as his eyes drifted shut, for now he had only wanted to rest, for some reason he had been feeling drained in a way.

If anyone had walked in on that scene a few minutes later, they would have thought Wes was having a calm and restfilled slumber. But Wes was not having a good sleep, like every night nearly, his sleep was filled with memories and nightmares of his haunted past. His eyes betrayed he was already deep in Rem sleep while his fingers twitched.

Wes couldn't really remember the times before he was ten. And what he could remember were snatches and fragments. But when Wes slept, he could remember anything and everything. But the moment he woke up, the fragments he had gathered during dreaming always slipped out of his hands.

And like so many nights before, Wes dreamed.

iHe was around seven years old this time. Infact, it was the day when it all happened. His childhood hadn't been the greatest. His father had been an acoholic, what he later learned wasn't the greatest thing in the world. His mother rarely smiled, and looked so fragile and shaken up that she'd fall apart if Wes looked at her for too long. But that went away if she smiled, even for a second. For that second she looked healthy and lively again. Wes wasn't very open, or talkitive. He kept to himself and was aloof around all people, even his mother at times. No one could really understand why. But no one questioned it. But then they knew next to nothing, For Wes had a secret. When he was sure no one save his mother was around, he would act innocent and carefree. He'd do next to anything to see his mother smile, chuckle or scold him gently from his childish antics.

And this was when he lost his mother and memories. She had taken him to the fair, and that the young Wes thought, had been the best day ever. Untill they got home. Wes's farther was there already. And nearly as plastered as the walls from how much he had been drinking. But Wes's father wasn't talkitive, dopey or any of the 'safe' drunks. He was violent. Accusing Wes's mother for inane and pointless things, he charged Wes's mother, knocking her down and ruthlessly attacked her. Wes stood shell shocked for several moments before jumping onto his father's back in a desperate attempt to save his mother. But a seven year old is no match for a thirty plus year old man, and the enraged drunkard turned his attacks onto Wes, sending the small child sprawling.

Yelping in pain and fright, Wes hit the wall and landed in a pain filled heap. Wearily cracking his eyes open, he saw his father standing over him. Somehow the brute had found the only weapon in the house, a glock pistol that only had a few rounds of amunition. Cursing the boy for ever being born, he started to squeeze the trigger when a cry of outrage caused the bad smelling man to halt for a few beats of a heart as he turned slightly. Wes's mother slammed into the larger man and sent them both tumbling to the floor. The crack of thunder roared out and the bullet tore through the body and crashed into the celling. Wes could only stare at the still form of his mother as his monsterous father slowly started to get up, cursing about things and muttering darkly.

Scrambling up quickly, the young boy swayed on his feet for a few moments more before he made it out the door, fleeing into the night, not knowing his father followed-/i

Wes's dark golden eyes snapped open, the young man quickly sat up straight while his heart slowed down and the remaining emotion of fear trickled out of his veins. Quickly, and still shaking slightly, Wes wiped his brow and finished calming himself down. It was only a nightmare of the past. It didn't matter now. Focusing on the here and now, Wes strained his hearing, and could just make out Rui fussing over one of the Eeveelutions while attempting to cook. A small dry laugh escaped him that he couldn't help. He had been used, betrayed and left for dead. And he had grown cold and cruel from it, but maybe... it was a time for a change? A crash of a pan came over the air, even from the closed door, causing Wes to wince. And a voice nagged at the back of his head, maybe it was best to push Rui away, and take off again.

His brow furrowed as Wes stood up, making his way to the door. Halting as his hand was inches from the doorknob, would he continue to keep Rui near him? She could betray him... but the image of a Rui laughing came to mind and it held no maliciousness. Shaking his head roughly, Wes closed his eyes and tried to even his breathing out. He was a survivor. He had weathered far worse things. So then why did this dread decide to dwell in the pit of his stomach? And why should he care if Rui betrayed him or not? It wasn't like he cared for her.

... and for some strange reason, Wes felt he was trying to fool himself. Growling he clasped his hand over the doorknob and opened it, throwing all thoughts to the wind for the moment. He'd deal with it when it'd come.