Note: Sorry for the long wait! In my defense, I had my GCSEs so I had to concentrate on them rather than anything fun. Still, I'm confident I got (mostly) 'A's :D I'm sucha lil nerd ha ha! Oh but wait, you probably aren't interested in my life story but my ACTUAL story...so go ahead and read it! Although it is a little sad...

Conan's Family

Daphne didn't know what to say when they came to Conan's house. Granted, her house hadn't been much to look at with the paint peeling off the front door and a few weeds cluttering the garden. Inside wasn't much better: nearly ever room was littered with empty bottles and old newspapers, courtesy of Daphne's dad. It wasn't a palace but it certainly wasn't a dump. There was some decent furniture inside and for the most part it was clean, if a little messy. She wouldn't want to invite anyone of a high status there but she wouldn't mind if – for example – Conan and Amina went there to visit. She wasn't embarrassed of the state of her house just because it was a little unkempt. Conan's house on the other hand, was something else altogether.

The garden was an overgrown fortress of weeds and litter built up over a number of years, it seemed. The path had been lost underneath it all and Daphne picked her way delicately after Conan and Tate's lead around the back of the house, eyeing the building warily. The fact that the windows and front door were boarded up with thick, ugly metal didn't help to build a good impression on Daphne. Whoever had put the metal on the windows and door was obviously lazy and hadn't bothered to do the same to the back of the house as it was all clear. Well, as clear as windows caked in so much layers of filth that they were a grimy black could be. Conan pushed the back door and beckoned for Daphne and Amina to follow him inside. Tate ran on ahead, carrying her Jigglypuff in her arms. Daphne still couldn't quite believe she was twelve.

Amina and Daphne looked at each other and could tell that they were both thinking the same: this couldn't be where Conan lived. They went inside.

Candles were lit around the room, illuminating it where the sun couldn't. They were in the kitchen although it didn't look like much cooking went on in there. The cupboards looked like they hadn't been opened in twenty years and there was no fridge, just an empty space and lonely electric socket where it should be. The tiles on the floor were cracked and chipped in so many places that it could have been a work of modern art if not for the dirt caked on top. Amina moved closer to Daphne for comfort. She didn't like it there.

They didn't stay in the kitchen long as Conan swiftly led the way into the next room. Daphne could tell that this room was more used than the first one. There was an old washing machine in one corner, next to an electrical generator of some sort. Old threadbare fleeces made do as rugs on the floor and the beat-up sofa against the far wall looked like it had seen better days although it was still usable. Tate wasn't in the room so Daphne assumed she had gone through the opposite door and presumably it went upstairs. Conan flicked a switch on one side of the generator and wires leading off from it crackled with energy. Daphne saw that the wires went out a crack in the brick wall and Conan explained it was linked to the next door's electricity cable. They were essentially stealing electricity from the next house and Daphne and Amina were impressed.

"We can wash our clothes now," announced Conan. Daphne handed her bag of clothes over to Conan wordlessly. She didn't understand why Conan lived in such poor conditions and didn't want to say anything that might offend or insult him. If Conan had been anyone else, Daphne would have undoubtedly have made a snarky comment but as he was her partner she held her tongue. They did have to work together, after all.

Conan took the bag from Daphne's hands and emptied the clothes into the washing machine before loading his own. He picked up the washing powder at the side of the metal cube and tossed some in too before closing the door and starting the wash. All the while Daphne and Amina watched him with pity. No wonder he preferred to be a team rocket agent-in-training rather than staying home – if that's what you could call it. Conan turned to his teammates, slightly annoyed with the sorry look in their eyes.

"You don't have to take pity on me, you know," he said defensively. Daphne immediately protested.

"Me? Pity you? Pfft!" she denied unconvincingly.

"Don't lie: I can see the way you're looking at me. All you can think about is how awful it must be for me to live here," countered Conan. Even though it was true, Daphne didn't want to admit that and so feigned innocence. Suffice to say, Amina didn't have as much determination.

"But...why do you live here? Don't you have money?" she asked tactlessly. Daphne slapped herself on the head. She should have expected Amina to say something as blunt as that: she always did. It was becoming quite annoying, actually.

Conan sighed. He had known bringing them to his house would cause such questions to arise; questions which, if he was honest, he didn't particularly like answering. He hoped that if he put all his cards on the table his other team members would understand where he was coming from and therefore a stronger relationship would be built within the team. With them working like a well-oiled machine, there was no doubt they would make it to Team Rocket field agents and then Conan would be rolling in money. He could then use said money to rescue his family from such a depressing house – his main goal at the end of the day.

"Come with me." It wasn't a suggestion open to friendly negotiation; it was an order given by Conan. Nonplussed, Daphne and Amina trailed behind him as Conan led them out the door, up the stairs across the hallway and into a bedroom. Tate was sitting on an old wooden box, talking animatedly about her day. Her Jigglypuff was nowhere to be seen and Daphne assumed it was in one of the other rooms she had seen along the hall.

The bedroom wasn't as shabby as the living room downstairs, mainly because there wasn't a whole lot in it to actually look worn away. Shoved into one corner was a large wardrobe that someone had drawn all over in bright colouring pens – presumably it was courtesy of Tate. Wild Ponytas on their hind legs and beautiful Butterfrees fluttering among flowers decorated the two chipped doors and brought colour into an otherwise dull room. A double bed took up most of the room, the sheets made of grey cotton that had probably been white at some point in their existence. There was an old lamp sitting on Tate's lap which illuminated the room in much better light the living room downstairs, thus making it easy to see the woman sitting up in the bed.

She had long lilac hair that tumbled down her shoulders untidily. She was wearing a white nightdress with the grey duvet tucked tightly around her legs. She shared the same face shape as Conan and Tate so Daphne assumed they were related somehow. She also noticed that the woman's face had a few wrinkles but none that were set really deep; she looked to be in her late thirties. She had a kind face and was listening to Tate speak, smiling in the girl's general direction. The woman didn't look straight at her though – mainly because she was obviously blind.

"Mum, I brought my friends Daphne and Amina to see you. Amina is a Gastly," said Conan. His mum turned her head slightly towards the sound of his voice and Tate stopped describing what she did at break time with her school friends. Conan's mum kept her eyes wide open even though she couldn't see out of them, allowing Daphne and Amina to have a great view of the dull grey irises.

"Oh er, hello?" stammered Daphne, looking at Conan nervously.

"Hi Conan's mum!" said Amina cheerfully. Conan's mum nodded her head politely.

"Please call me Estelle," she smiled. Daphne nodded but quickly realized her mistake and verbalised her response.

"Okay...Estelle." Tate watched her brother and his new teammates reproachfully.

"Can I continue my story?" she demanded, pouting. Conan assured her she could and left the room with Daphne and Amina on his heels. He took them back to the living room where they proceeded to sit on the sofa. Amina hovered close to their heads.

"Estelle seems nice!" she said happily.

"She is," Conan smiled with genuine happiness. Daphne guessed that Amina hadn't caught on to the fact that Estelle was blind otherwise she would have mentioned something obliviously rude about it, no matter how inappropriate it would be. Not particularly wanting to be the one who broke the news to Amina, Daphne's eyes turned to Conan for an explanation. What had been the whole point of them meeting his mum anyway? Conan seemed to understand what Daphne was trying to ask without actually talking because he answered her.

"She was working in one of the mines on the edge of town when they dug into a pipe that held dangerous chemicals. She didn't quite manage to shut her eyes in time," he said, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. He had had to tell that story countless to times to previous neighbours, his old school teachers and one or two of his old friends and it was getting easier and easier to pretend he was okay with it. Daphne tried to look understanding and concerned although she wasn't sure she pulled it off very well, especially when her next words came out harsh and uncaring.

"Where's your dad?" Surely he should be trying to support his family in anyway he could. Daphne reasoned that Conan's dad had to be around because who else could be providing the family with the necessities they needed just to live? Conan looked uncomfortable which made Daphne think she had over-stepped her boundaries. Still, she wasn't the kind of person who backed down and wanted to see her question through to the answer. She fixed Conan with an impatient stare and he felt like there was no way he could get out of answering her question. Conan sighed. It was what he wanted, in a way. If he didn't hide anything from his team, they'd work well together and all that nonsense he had convinced himself was important.

"He's...around. Somewhere." Amina was confused.

"What do you mean 'somewhere'? Don't you know where he is?" she asked. Conan picked at a part of the sofa that had ripped, making the hole worse. The white inside stuffing poked out and Conan still picked at it.

"He went out one evening and didn't come back. It was after my mum's accident...Dad kind of blamed himself, you know? They worked in the same place and he asked her to cover for him that day. Anyway, everyone in the mine lost their jobs after that and Dad decided to leave to find a better one. He hasn't succeeded yet but he sends us some money every now and then from the odd jobs he manages to get, along with a short letter explaining that he's still alive and thinking about us." Daphne tried to imagine how good it would be if her dad had left and only remembered her existence when he sent her money. It would be utter bliss. There would be no more shouting at her, no more telling her she was useless. There'd be no tears (from her dad) and there'd be no empty bottles to litter the house. Daphne could live her life so easy. Maybe her dad would even get some help so he could finally get over her mum's death and after a while he'd return to the normal, loving man he used to be. They could fix up the house and make it really nice, or sell it for a smaller one that didn't have any painful reminders of Daphne's mum. He could call her his little 'Daffy' again and make those lame jokes she absolutely hated. Their lives wouldn't be the same without her mum but it could be almost as good.

Too bad it was never going to become a reality.

The washing machine began its fast spin and the whirring of the clothes being tossed around at high speed inside the metal was all that could be heard in the room. They could faintly hear Tate talking expressively to her mum upstairs. Daphne noticed that there wasn't a clock anywhere and so had no idea what the time was. There was also a lack of the familiar 'tick-tock' the object usually provided, which unsettled Daphne in such a large way that she didn't want to admit it to anyone. To miss the sound of a clock in a house where they couldn't afford to buy a decent carpet for the floor was just inconsiderate and stupid. Daphne hadn't thought she was as shallow as that but apparently she was.

Rather tired of being outside her Pokéball for such a long time, Amina took it upon herself to get in it. She had all but forgotten her stay at the Pokémon Centre and how she had been looked after so well; it seemed like a decade ago. Daphne pocketed the ball to make sure they didn't misplace it by accident. She groaned and threw her head back on the sofa, wincing when a spring dug into it. She lifted her head painfully, rubbing the back to try and ease the pain. Great. She was probably bleeding and she doubted that Conan owned any cotton wool.