Beyond help part 1

The woman grunted, an animal like sound escaping her. It had already been 26 hours, far longer than a normal birth should take. Her face was flushed in pain, and sweat trailed down her forehead. Doctors rushed around Alice Kirkland, preparing for the baby that was coming; and coming soon. She shouted loudly, and one of the nurses held her hand in a comforting gesture, although she was quickly losing the blood circulation in her fingers. The young woman's legs were spread wide.

"I see the head!" she shouted excitedly "I just need you to push alright miss? PUSH!"

Alice screamed louder than before, her whole body shaking. Her normally pin straight was frazzled around her like a crow's nest. Pieces stuck to her face, but she payed them no mind. It was several pain staking moments before she finally collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily. The nurse looked excitedly upon the silent baby's face; His mouth open with no sound coming out. Several nurses hugged each other in happiness, one shouting above the chaos "it's a boy"

The cleaned and wrapped up baby was handed to the new mother who looked pale, eyes sunken in, and exhausted. She smiled at his sparkling violet eyes, the little tufts of blonde hair atop his head. His skin was a beautifully pale. Alice remarked he looked like an angel upon earth.

"My beautiful baby boy..." she whispered, her voice wavering and tired. She took a small necklace from around her neck. A tiny silver chain with a small red maple leaf as it's only adornment. She gently clipped the necklace around his neck, wrapping it around his small head several times as it was far too long for him, but he would grow. "you're so beautiful, I'm sorry I won't be there for you"

The nurses all stared in confusion before they began panicking. They young woman's vital signs suddenly dropping; her head rolled to the side; her eyes staring at the wall unseeing. Nurses and doctors alike scrambled to bring the young woman back to the living, but it was too late.

And the small, unnamed child made his first sound; crying in the arms of his dead mother.

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Down the halls of the Bluebell hospital, lay a lobby. Past the lobby there lay more halls and rooms; seperated in to sections. These sections were called wards. Each ward had a special name for what it focused on. Our story currently takes place in room 304 of the maternity ward.

Every small child in room 304 lay in a comfortable bed and slept soundly. On each of their tiny little wrists was a silver bracelet. On each of these silver bracelets; lay the name of each of these tiny patients and the names of their parents. One little one's bracelet stood out from the others. While he looked just as healthy and happy, and slept just as soundly as the others. It was not the fact that his little tufts of blonde hair were already stunning, or the unusual colours of his violet eyes hidden behind sleeping eyelids. No, what set him apart was his blissfully empty bracelet that held only one name. That of his deceased mother: Alice Kirkland. The name of his father and himself remained empty.

Nurse Braginski gazed sadly into the maternity ward. She knew how that mother must have felt bringing a child into the world alone. She already had 1 year old Ivan to care for, but now that she was pregnant with her second child, her children's father mysteriously left leaving nothing for them. It would have been difficult raising the little boy on her own, but now Alice was no longer among them to take up the task.

"Nurse Braginski?" A soft voice questioned. Katyusha turned to see doctor Vargas standing there, holdng a clipboard.

"yes doctor?"

"Why does one of them have no name?" He asked, referring to the little boy she'd been pondering over herself.

"his mother unfortunately passed away due to birth complications. She left him the maple leaf necklace, and nothing else. Not even a name" She replied directly, but averted her eyes to the floor in sadness.

He nodded nonchalantly, used to dealing with cases like this "alright has anyone contacted the father?"

After pausing for a few seconds, she shook her head "no, we have not. She told us not bother for he knew of her pregnancy and said he wanted nothing to do with it"

Doctor Romulus Vargas stood stock still for a total of fifteen seconds before releasing a breathe he didn't realize he had been holding in. He knew what happened to boys with no families. He had seen many cases where the mother died, and many where the father remained uninvolved (katyusha was a prime example of the latter) but hardly any where the two coincided. He's seen hardly any, but he'd seen some through his many years working in the hospital. Their lives were never well.

"I contacted the girl's parents" Katyusha continued, subconsciously placing a hand on her swelling abdomen "but they said they wanted nothing to do with 'their whore of a daughter'. I then contacted her brother, Who also said he wanted nothing to do with her. He has no family to go to, no place to call home. He's done for"

"I'll call child services" Romulus heard Katyusha barely stifle a gasp "it's what we must do" he continued.

She nodded, tears pricking the back of her eyes "I know sir, I just wish there was another way"

Romulus looked into the room, seeing the newborn child sleeping peacefully; unaware of his impending fate. "as do I katyusha, as do I"

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Several hours later, a stiff looking social services agent arrived. She had cold grey eyes, with gray hair pulled in to a tight bun. If one were to look close enough they would see her split ends. One did not have to look close to see her unpleasent scowl.

Wordlessly, Katyusha handed the swaddled baby to the agent, and began signing out the papers handed to her by the agent. The agent held the little bundle of joy, who remained sleeping, with no love whatsoever. She held him stiffly, coldly, as if he were a box of eggs. Delicate and important, but not a real living breathing creature in need of love and care. When the nurse filled all the spaces she could, she handed it back to the agent. The cold woman looked over the papers with an unimpressed scowl before she stopped, read over a part again, then handed the papers back to Katyusha

"you did not put down the boy's name" she said monotonely, an unimpressed gaze still pressed sternly to the unfulfilled papers.

"he has none" Katyusha responded; a hint of sadness creeping in to her voice.

the agent shoved the papers more urgently towards the nurse, keeping her scowl on her face "asign him one. A first name only. An orphan doesn't need a last name"

nervously, she took the papers and looked at the blank spot that read ((insert name here)). The last bit stung her. No last name. As if being raised in the horrendous foster program wasn't enough, not feeling the real love from a real parent wasn't enough, they just had to go and rub it in by denying him a second name. Just to remind the world, to make sure he never fit in. To ensure his life would be as difficult as possible. She had no idea what to write, what would he want? The agent simply said 'asign him a name' but this was so much more than that. This would be what he would live by for the rest of his life. The first gift given to you by your parents. The most important thing to you. What you would hold most dear. This wasn't something you could simply 'asign' someone. You needed to think it out, add love and care, give it your own personal flair.

But as it was, the agent stood there staring at her, clearly wanting to leave soon. Katyusha wrote down the first name that came to her mind.

Matthew

The spot for a last name remained blank because unfortunately that's what he was, a blank. The steel woman took the final papers, and walked off where a similarily dressed and acting man sat in a silver car. They drove off and Katyusha walked back inside to finish her shift.

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Police car sirens ran through the air, awaking all in the peaceful neighberhood. Many wandered out, wondering why there were such loud noises at such an ungodly hour. The scene they were met with was not a happy one.

Officers walked in and out of one of the many houses in the neighberhood. The kind man living inside was handcuffed, sitting in the back of a police cruisers. Why was he there? He was such a kind man. He was the father of a foster home, helping orphaned children recover and live normal lives. He was a part of the community, volunteering at church outings and the local elementary school. He raised money for various charities. He was truly a kind man. So why was he in the back of a police cruiser, already arrested and waiting to be put on trial in a few weeks?

The answer was the foster children themselves, huddled in a little bundle of bodies ranging from 3-8 years old. 5 little ones hugged each other. the eldest, 8 years old, had short wavy brown hair and shaking green eyes. A 5 year old boy had neatly combed blonde hair and glasses. While he looked considerably less scared than the others, he simply stared at on spot on the dew covered grass without looking away, even as he comforted the others.

The third child looked the worst. Purple and black bruises bloomed across his pale frame and face. His violet shook and teared up easily as he sat in the lap of the blonde haired one. His short wavy dirty blonde hair accented his tubby 3 year old face. He was the youngest and by far the saddest.

The fourth child looked to be about 6 years old. He had dark hair that looked to be almost purple and a birthmark just below his thin lips. He held the fifth boy who wept silently, making no noise as he had been taught by their foster father. He comforted the younger and tried not to cry himself. He sported a blackening bruise on his chin that was far more painful than it looked.

The fifth and last boy was only 4 years old but was shaking the most, except for the 3 year old possibly. He too sported bruises over his entire fragile body. Black storms marring a pure white canvas. Fresh blood crusted in his blonde hair that reached down his face and framed his chin. Violet eyes remained clenched closed in pain; Thin tears streaking his cheeks.

Toris, Eduard, Raivis, Roderich, Matthew. 8,5,3,6,4. So young, yet so hurt. Their "wonderful" caretaker hurting them beyond what words could describe, taking from them what all children should have.

and the worst part? The man who hurt them got away with minimal punishment when the court realized they didn't have last names.

that they were orphans.

that they were blanks.

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A/N okay so this is a human AU if you didn't already figure this out. I would just like to say as a disclaimer, I have nothing against orphans, children with 1 parent, or people who choose have sexual interactions with multiple people . In this AU though, orphans are highly looked down upon. "Blank" is a derogatory term for them, referring to the fact that they have no last name. As you can imagine, slut shaming will be a large part of this story so I'm sorry if this offends anyone I personally do not condone slut shaming but for the story it will be a large part of the plot

So yeah please review! follows/favourites are awesome but reviews are what make me roll on the ground squealing in happiness. I will try weekly updates on Mondays~