This is a real father-son fic with bits of pairings here and there. This story includes my theory of Pop and Cub's life. Pairings are: Cuddles/Giggles and Flaky/Flippy. Please enjoy.

A LANDSLIDE BROUGHT IT DOWN

BY THE YOUNG AND FREE DRAGON

Ein Flugzeug liegt im Abendwind
An Bord ist auch ein Mann mit Kind
Sie sitzen sicher sitzen warm
und gehen so dem Schlaf ins Garn

(An airplane is in the evening wind
On board is a man with his child as well
They sit secure and warm
and so they fall into the trap of sleep)

-Dalai Lama by Rammstein

PROLOGUE: REALIZATION

The sky was blonde

Like her hair

It was a day to take the child out back

And shoot it

-Putting Holes in Happiness by Marilyn Manson

The air tasted like valentines, has Pop brought his boy out the door with him. The tyke smiled and made his normal noises, awed at the sights, and perhaps he could taste the love in the air. But this month always made Pop sad. He had married and lost his wife in this month years ago. And he always thought about how fast his little boy was growing up when it came this time of year. The girls would be all over his handsome flesh and blood. He retained a tear, and chewed his pipe thoughtfully as he took the youngster out to the car and fastened him in. He loved the boy more than he could even say.

Pop's eyes opened slowly and he began to stir. His body ached and he felt warmth burning around his body, heating something wet beneath him. As he pulled himself up, with blurry vision, he could make out blood and oil mixed together about him. He began shaking, thinking of what he'd last seen. He had been driving down the road and the Mole had hobbled out in front of him. He had slammed on the breaks and… his big mistake… He'd forgotten to buckle Cub's seat into the car and it had flown straight out the front window. His heart was racing as he remembered the car losing control and flipping on its side… and going straight toward the small bear.

He got up quickly, hyperventilation, hysteria, and a head injury causing his vision to blur as he stumbled through the wreckage. It seemed like he was walking through a waste land of twisted metal, when in all actuality, his panicking had blurred his perception. The metal was torn and twisted in a cage about him, and he was only stumbling in circles, helpless to comprehend anything, except that Cub was probably dead. But his fatherly instinct would not accept that and he began screaming Cub's name.

He heard shouts of people… maybe calling to him, but he was so incoherent and frightened that he couldn't make out the words. He fell against a sheet of metal and it tumbled under his weight. His head hit the ground hard and as he felt the impact rip open his flesh, he found that his other temple was throbbing and burning in the clogged air. He began scrambling across the ground, his half lidded eyes searching. His vision was beyond anything that could be made out as the world he lived in.

He could only look around, half blind, as his mind began to fade into darkness and he felt himself passing out. No! He screamed in his head. No! Gotta find Cub! He was fueled with anger at himself for feeling faint while his son could be in his last seconds of life… perhaps last seconds he could prolong. Of course, the cub would come back, but death was not something he ever wanted to happen to the boy. His boy.

His vision was turning red as he began crawling, and he could feel warm fires burning around him. He thought briefly how ironic this was. Valentines day… a Valentines Day Massacre. Suddenly, among the black and red, he saw a familiar array of colors that did not normally go next to each other. He cried out loudly and grabbed up the Beanie from the ground. Cub was not in it, but the hat was wet and warm, feeling frayed as though burned.

"Cub!" he screamed. "Cub!"

As he fell to the ground in his last seconds awake, he saw familiar tan fur and he could smell the blood of his son, something only a father could do. He grabbed up the mass of broken child and cradled it in his arms, crying over it. He was not crying because he thought he would never see the boy again, he only cried because of the pain Cub had endured at his own father's hands…

He remembered Cub kissing his cheek every night before he put him to bed. Why did he do that? Pop was so careless to his son, the Child should hate him. The realization wrapped around Pop like a snake and began choking the life out of him. He could not breathe as he placed a kiss on the Child's forehead. He could not see the boy at all, but knew that all life was gone from him (for now). But he didn't need to see Cub to know where his forehead was, or where his chest was. He fell on his side, burying his face against the offspring's chest and cried, the only thought being; I swear to you God… my son will never die again.

So, how was it? Please let me know in a review