Disclaimer: I do not own Once or any references about Let the Right One In/Let Me In.

A/N: This series of prompts are pretty intense and they deal with bullying and child abuse. But… it also has vampires! If you have never read the book or seen the movie (both US and Swedish), then I strongly recommend it if you are a fan of vampires. Don't forget to leave a review!

Let Me In

Prompt: Rumbert is a lonely child with a neglectful and drunkard father. With no friends of his own, he tries to make the most of his situation until he meets the new girl next door. (Rated M)

"Hey Smelly-bert! Come here and let's play a game—now squeal like a little piggy. Squeal!"

A small boy with shaggy hair and clothes a size too big prowled the sorry for an excuse playground, his voice high pitch and maniacal as he talked to no one in particular. Of course, if anyone was watching him they would think he was speaking to an imaginary friend (then secretly think he was too old for that and needed serious help).

"Squeal!" he demanded. Then in a flash he brandished a pocket knife and slashed it in the air. "Take that Piggy! You gonna cry? Well cry! No one cares for you Pussy Face!"

He jabbed the knife a few more times at the invisible being, but in his mind he pictured the blade plunging in and out of Killian Jones' fleshy belly. His lips curled in a frightful smile as he envisioned the blood trickling from his mouth, those big eyes bulging from the realization that he was slowly dying and by him—Rumbert Gold—the poor, lonely boy in Shitsville Storybrooke.

Falling to his knees, Rumbert continued stabbing—this time too caught up in his fantasy—the snow on the ground. But it wasn't snow anymore… No. It was Killian and the rest of his gang and he was showing them no mercy. They chose the wrong kid to pick on! He'll show those motherfuckers he wasn't Smelly-bert or Pussy Face or Piggy. He will never have to squeal for them again—

"Why are you doing that?"

The new voice startled him and Rumbert looked up to see a little girl around his age (twelve) sitting on the snow-covered picnic table. She had long, thin dark hair that fell past her shoulders; her face was pale as the snow with two of the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen. The last thing he noticed was the lack of clothing she wore. It was practically twenty below and she had no coat over her threadbare blue dress and her feet were bare. However, the cold didn't seem to bother her let alone faze her.

"Aren't you freezing?" he blurted out.

She shrugged. "I don't feel the cold."

"Oh." What do you say to that?

"So…" she trailed. "Why are you attacking the snow?"

Rumbert sheepishly lowered the knife, his cheeks flushing scarlet. He never intended for his overzealous display to be seen by anyone and he was more concerned that word would get back to his father. Not that the old man would care much, but it would earn him a few slaps to the face and a belt across the back. "It's nothing."

"Doesn't look like it," she responded. "You were telling it to squeal."

"I said, 'it's nothing'!" he snapped, then sighed in defeat. "Some stupid thing this older boy made me do, okay?"

"I see." Her countenance dawned with understanding, those blue eyes glittering with crystal clarity in the night. "What did you do?"

"What do you think? I squealed." Getting to his feet, Rumbert brushed the snowflakes off his pants and slipped the knife back into his coat pocket. "Who are you? I never seen you around here before."

"I just moved in," she replied.

"Right," he said with a perfunctory nod. "That was last night wasn't it?" At her confused look, he added, "I live next door and heard the boxes and furniture moving around. My Dad was pissed you woke him up. He complained all morning."

"Sorry," she said softly.

It was his turn to shrug. "Didn't bother me. How old are you?"

"Twelve," she answered. Well, he was right. She was his age so that meant they would be in the same grade. Somehow that uplifted his spirits a bit.

"Me too. We could have the same classes. Do you start school tomorrow?"

"I don't go to school."

"Oh." That was… disappointing. He kicked the ground. "What's your name?"

"Belle. What's yours?"

"Rumbert but you can call me Rum."

"Is that what your friends call you?"

"I don't—I don't have any friends."

"Me neither," she admitted. "You want to be my friend?"

"Yeah." Rum never had friends. Although, he would count Jeff as one but they never hung out and he never talked to Rum at school. On occasion he'll say hi to Rum outside of school, but that was the extent of their "friendship." All he ever wanted was to have someone to chill with and have fun together. And this strange girl comes along who is much weirder than him and she wants to be his friend. Why not?

She nodded. "All right Rum. I can tell we're going to be the best of friends."

His lips twitched into a full-length smile.