Disclaimer: God, I wish, but Pokemon and 'Shelter' (the cover by Birdy) aren't mine.

Characters: Silver and Giovanni. *Tear*

Summary: Dark, and deals with abuse.

Bleed Out

~Maybe I have said something that was wrong,

Can I make it better with the lights turned on? ~

You promise yourself that you'll be dead by morning, if only to keep hope alive. She's the only mother you've ever known, and you won't let the Rs He cuts into your back take her away from you.

But then the belt shimmers and falls, and promises aren't enough to stop the screaming.

"You and your weak feelings and your weak body and your weak heart," He bellows, and your nails dig into the carpet until they break. "You're useless! You'll amount to nothing! I hate you!"

"I'm sorry." It's a parched whisper that dies in your throat, a broken record that you know is going to get smashed into oblivion. "What did I do?"

He can't hear, won't hear, and rams His foot into your face: you feel your nose break, and blood streams down your chin. It tastes as metallic as your name in your mouth. "I never wanted you," He rages, drunk on rage and alcohol. "I don't want you. No one will ever want you."

The anger's never been this bad, and you shake with sobs, burying your broken face into the floor.

The whip comes down too high this time, raining abuse onto your neck: you feel your skin and heart split open, unable to tell which pain is worse. "What did I do?"you cry.

"Children," He spits. "All you children are stupid, good-for-nothing things- that one took away my legacy, my titles, my dreams. And you're just like him. You're just like all of them."

You tip your head back to stare at Him, at those coal eyes, at that cigarette mouth: you stare at Him and want to feel love, but feel nothing.

You feel nothing.

"I hate you," you realise, although the tears say otherwise. "I hate you."

His fist reinforces your revelation.

"What did I do," you croak, "to make you hate me?"

His foot answers your question.

"Please stop," you whisper. "Please."

Your eye is sealed shut.

"It's not my fault."

One rib is broken- now two.

You don't say anything.

The blow comes anyway.

"Why can't you be like me?" He bellows.

"Never," you choke. "I could never be like you."

He falls upon you, pinning you to the ground: you scream, you spit, you lash. You bawl. You pray. You plead. You do everything you can to prove to yourself that you're alive as He rips you open with that switchblade that He always carries around, marking you with that hated letter.

"I'll spare your face," He booms, that foul breath causing you to nearly vomit. "Your pretty, pretty face. Just like your tramp of a mother, aren't you? Aren't you?"

You bleed out all your love, all your tears, all your weakness and let it seep into the carpet, if only to make Him stop.

You drown in the agony, if only to make it drown with you.

You promise yourself that you'll be dead by morning, if only to keep hope alive.

~I find shelter in this way,

Under cover, hide away~