A/N: First try at a Pearl Harbor fic. Please give feedback, positive or negative so it can be improved!
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters.
Co-written by the amazing Heidi, A.k.a. OMG NO WAYY x 53

"Danny?" Mr. Walker asked, gently nudging his sons shoulder. "Wake up, son."

Danny let out a muffled yawn. "We there yet?"

"Yeah, and you'd better get used to it. This is home now."

"What? This is it?" Danny asked, disappointment leaking into his voice.

"Yeah, well, since your ma died we can't afford so much anymore. Still owe the hospital a whole lot of money for looking after her while she had cancer. Don't need such a big house now that she's gone," his father told him. "It'll be fine, don't need a city to have a good life."

The walkway up to the house was dirt that covered their shoes and the bottom of their pants in dust as they walked towards their new home. The house didn't look like much from the outside; it had been painted white long ago, but was chipped and dirty with age, showing the peeling wood beneath.

"Well… Here we are," Mr. Walker said as he opened the door and held it open for Danny.

"Uh huh…" said Danny, walking in, and the door shut with a slam behind him.

Danny was a small boy at four years old, unlike his father who was tall and broad, a World War 1 veteran. He had handsome shy brown eyes, and hair to match. He had a promising look about him, as though even from the tender age of four it was obvious he was going somewhere with his life, he was going to do something important.

The inside of the house wasn't much more than the outside; it as tattered and dirty, cobwebs on nearly every surface. It didn't look inhabited by mice, and didn't look suited for anything more. It wasn't an overly big house, but in the middle there was a stair case leading to the upstairs.

"It'll be some hard work getting this place in shape, but do you think we can do it Dan-Man?"

Danny looked up to his father with his shy eyes and nodded. "I think so, dad."

His father reached down and tussled his son's hair.

"Go unpack your stuff," he told him.

"I can't carry it all," said Danny, looking towards their truck where all their belongings now where, except for the furniture which was already at the home. Danny's father had brought it in the truck earlier in the week while Danny was spending time with his babysitter.

"Come on and I'll give you a hand." With that, they walked out towards the truck and started to gather their belongings for their new home.

Boy, living out in the country sure would be a big change from in the city. It was a lot quieter, and I hadn't seen anyone other than my dad yet, but in the city there are kids every which way. Dad said there'd be a lot of kids in school, but I'm not so sure.

Dad and me had carried all my stuff upstairs and I was unpacking it. I had a nice room, it was pained brown and my bed was in the corner. Dad's room was just down the hall, he'd shown me where it was so that if I got scared in the new house I could go see him and he'd make all the scary dreams go away.

I put my teddy bear on my bed. Dad had once told me that big kids didn't have teddy bears, but I didn't care. Mom had given it to me when she'd went into the hospital for the last time, and told me to keep it so I could remember her even when she wasn't around. It was a panda bear, and I'd named it Freddy Teddy, but I always called him Freddy because it was shorter.

I'd just reached into one of my bags again when Dad knocked on my door. It was open, so I just turned around to look at him.

"Everything going alright, Dan?" he asked and I smiled.

"Yup! Just finishing unpacking."

"Alright, go to bed once your done, alright?"

"Ok, I'll only be a few minutes." And he was gone.

I pulled out my last possession looked at it for a minute. It was the picture of a woman in her mid twenties with long flowing chocolate brown hair and blue eyes. She had a smile that could light up a room and make everyone around her smile too. Her eyes were really pretty and were always hopeful and happy. I put the picture on my nightstand.

"I sure miss you, mom."