Author: Emerald Raven

A/N: Hey! This is just a little one-shot that popped into my head last night. As a storms rages two people find each other. Now go read and find out what happens.

The small boy sat on the side of the dusty road, wrapped in a ragged blanket; holding out his hand to passers by he attempted to gather a few pennies for a crust of bread from the bakery. People rushed past, not even glancing down at the small figure at their feet.

Three years ago Greg's mother had died, leaving him alone in the world and forcing him onto the streets. No one had noticed the addition to the steadily growing number of street children and for the first few months, he had managed to get by. He used the little money he had to buy food and the blanket he was currently clutching to his chest. After his money had run out, he had relied on the few strangers that had graciously spared him some money from their pockets.

As the wind picked up slightly Greg pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and coughed as the dust caught in his throat. The crowds of people had thinned down to a steady flow now and Greg slipped further into thought, as the wind became harsher around him. His thoughts strayed back to when he was young and his mother was alive to look after him.

"Mama!" Greg ran into the kitchen almost falling over the old rug in the entrance; his eyes blurred with tears as he called out for his mother. Turning from her baking Fiona looked down at her son as he stumbled into the kitchen. Tears cleared paths through the dirt and soot on his face from playing in the streets; hair matted with sweat hung in the infant's eyes as he held up his arms to his mother. Fiona sighed as she dusted her hands off on her apron and swung her son up onto the kitchen table.

"What is it now Gregory? Is it that Billy again? I've told you about." Greg shook his head and tearful eyes became wide,

"No, it wasn't Billy, honest Mama. I-I fell, and there was something sharp in the grass. Geena and M-michael laughed and called me a-a crybaby; but-but it hurt." Greg lifted his legs up and pulled his knees close to his chest, whimpering as the movement jarred the wound. Fiona caught sight of what had happened and sighed again. There was a jagged cut running for about six inches down her son's leg; the wound was not that deep and looked to have been done by broken glass, blood was sliding in scarlet rivulets down the youth's leg.

Fiona busied herself with cleaning her son's leg and fetching bandages from the cupboard in the bathroom. It wasn't long before Greg was happy again; he slid off the table and hugged his mother tightly gazing up at her with complete dependency and adoration.

The weather was steadily becoming worse around Greg as he huddled against the side of the shop. Rain had started to fall from the resident heavy clouds. The only people in the streets were the people that lived on them. Both children and adults clustered under what little shelter they could as the storm became worse. Greg moved down slightly as another small child slid into the gap between him and the door.

The girl was young, perhaps a few years younger than Greg was. She turned wide brown eyes to him as he moved; the wind howled and threw rain against the two huddled figures. A few minutes passed and Greg watched as the young girl began to shiver even more, the chattering of her small teeth barely audible over the crashing of the relentless storm.

Greg shuffled closer to his small companion and offered her shelter under the old blanket. There was a second of indecision before the girl flung herself against Greg. She clung to him as he held the blanket tightly around them both; and he clung to her, the only solid thing in his broken world.

In the morning rush the next day under a bright sun and a clear sky, no one noticed the small figure at their feet, or his companion; both as still as death with peaceful smiles on their pale faces.

A/N: Like it? Hate it? Let me know through a lovely review, I love them!