A.N.- Alright so these are just random scenes from the childhoods of Dimitri (Outside The Lines), Max and Noah (Closets Are For Clothes), Evan (Can't Even Think Straight), Tommy and Zeke (Rebound But Newfound), and Trace (My...Stepbrother?). Like I said, they're very random. But I just like seeing my own characters as kids, and trying to figure out what they would've acted like :p So, here you go:

#1- Dimitri Ivanov

                The Ivanov siblings, Dimitri and Aleksandra, were running around their front yard together, giggling. Dimitri was six years old, and Alek was eight.

                “I’m going to get you Dimitri!” Alek called, getting closer to her little brother with her hand outstretched.

                “No Aleksandra! I’m faster than you!” Dimitri taunted, ducking away from her and sprinting.

                The two were playing tag together, and Alek was finding it difficult to tag her brother back. He was quick despite being short for his age.

                He spun around and grinned at her. “Just try to catch me Aleksandra!”

                He started running again as Alek came after him, a determined look on her face. Dimitri kept the grin on his face as his legs carried him across the front yard.

                “DIMITRI!”

                His mother’s terrified voice had him stopping so suddenly that he tripped over his own feet and fell down. His palms slapped against the pavement of the road and his grin dissolved into a frown as he glanced over his shoulder.

                His mother raced over to him and grabbed the back of his shirt, dragging him away from the road as a truck passed by. She pulled him into her arms, inspecting him frantically.

                “Are you okay?” she asked, checking his hands.

                “Why did you yell at me, mother?” he asked.

                She glared at him. “Dimitri Mikhail Ivanov, I have told you plenty of times to stay away from that road!” Her voice sounded angry, but it was just disguising her fear. She hated when her children got near the busy road.

                “I wasn’t going to run into the road,” he said, looking unconcerned about it.

                “Dimmy, are you okay?” Alek asked, going over to them.

                “I’m perfectly fine, Aleksandra. I wasn’t going to run into the road. Mother worried for nothing,” Dimitri said with a shrug.

                Eva Ivanov looked at her son, a boy who was intelligent well beyond his years, and shook her head. She constantly worried about him. He never took anything seriously.

                “Come inside,” she said, standing up and taking his hand in hers.

                “We were playing!” Alek protested.

                “I don’t like you playing outside when daddy and I aren’t watching you,” she said, her voice making it very clear that this discussion was over.

                She pulled Dimitri inside, Alek trailing after him. She pulled him into the living room, where her husband was sitting on the couch.

                “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking up at them.

                “Dimitri was running near the road,” Eva said, lifting Dimitri into her arms.

                Alexei Ivanov sighed. “Dimitri, you’re not supposed to play near the road.”

                “I wasn’t going to go in the road father!” Dimitri said.

                Alexei held his arms out and Eva transferred Dimitri over to him. Alexei held Dimitri and looked him in the eyes. Sometimes he couldn’t believe that Dimitri was basically a younger clone of him. Aside from the wild colors Dimitri preferred to wear, he looked exactly like Alexei had at his age.

                “Don’t even get near the road, okay Dimitri?” he said seriously.

                “Okay,” Dimitri said, already bored with the conversation. “I promise I won’t, daddy.”

                Alexei smiled. Dimitri always acted more mature than the usual six year old, so he liked it when the boy called him daddy instead of father. He always felt like Dimitri was growing up far too fast.

                “I’m going to go get dinner ready,” Eva said and left the room.

                Alexei pat the spot on the couch next to him. “Come on, Alek. Come watch TV,” he said.

                Alek jumped up onto the couch, snuggling against her father. He put an arm around her and kissed her cheek. He put on Pokémon, since he knew it was child-friendly and amused the kids.

                “I like the way they draw,” Dimitri said, eyeing the show with an artist’s view. For his age, he was already a very talented artist.

                Alexei smiled and nodded. As they continued to watch, Dimitri shifted so that he was lying down, his body curled into his father’s lap with his head on Alek’s lap. He was wearing tight purple jeans, a bright yellow shirt, and a pink vest. He didn’t look like he could sleep comfortably in that kind of attire, but Alexei knew that he did.

                After a few minutes, Alek poked her father’s shoulder. She pointed down at her sleeping little brother.

                “Look dad, he fell asleep on us,” she said.

                “Yes, he did. He’s little and he gets tired easily. All that running today wiped him out,” Alexei said.

                “It’s kind of cute,” Alek said, smiling at Dimitri.

                “Yes, it is. But if you move, it’ll wake him up,” Alexei cautioned. Dimitri’s head was securely fixed in Alek’s lap.

                “I won’t move,” Alek promised, running a hand through her brother’s hair.

                Alexei smiled widely at his two children. He loved them with his whole heart, and he could just tell that they would be close when they got older.

                #2- Max Quincy and Noah Hottie

                “Maxwell, it will be fine, I promise!” Mrs. Quincy said, giving her son’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

                Max looked at the preschool nervously. “But mommy, what if I can’t make friends?” he whimpered.

                Mrs. Quincy knelt down and hugged her son. “You’ll do fine,” she promised him, kissing his cheek.

                She led the little boy inside. The teacher smiled kindly at him. It was hard not to instantly get attached to Max. He was an adorable little boy, with hair so dark it was almost black that tumbled into his brilliantly shining eyes.

                “Hello. Maxwell, yes?” the teacher said.

                Max nodded timidly. The teacher placed a hand on his shoulder and pointed over towards the play area.

                “Why don’t you go join the other children, Max?” she offered.

                Max turned and hugged his mother tightly, terrified to be away from her. She smiled and kissed his cheek again.

                “Go make friends Maxi,” she said.

                He nodded and reluctantly released his mother. He glanced back over his shoulder before slowly making his way over to the play area.

                He stood with his back pressed against the wall, watching the other children play. His eyes fell to two boys playing together with legos. They laughed with each other as they built a tower together.

                “Owen, put this one here or else it will fall!” one of the boys said with frown.

                “Hold it for me Pierce,” the other boy, Owen, said and hurried to put a lego down.

                Max frowned as he watched them. He wished he could have friends who would help him. Honestly, he just wished he could have friends in general.

                “Hey!”

                Max jumped in surprise and turned to the face the boy next to him. He had dirty-blond hair and a curious expression on his face.

                “Why are you standing alone?” he asked.

                “I don’t have friends,” Max informed him.

                “Sure you do,” the other boy said.

                Max shook his head. “No I don’t!”

                “Yes you do dummy,” the boy said, taking Max’s hand in his. “I’m your friend! Come play with me!”

                He pulled Max over to a bunch of blocks lying on the ground. He released Max’s hand and gestured at him to sit. Max did so and watched as the boy began to gather up the blocks.

                “We’re going to build a castle,” he told Max.

                “Who are you?” Max asked.

                “Noah,” the boy said.

                “I’m Max,” Max said.

                “Well Max, we’re going to make a castle and rule it together,” Noah said, starting to lay down blocks. He pushed a stack in Max’s direction. “Here, you help. You can’t rule with me unless you help me build it! We can be the Kings.”

                Max’s lips twitched into a smile as he picked up a block and placed it down. He and Noah worked together, building up a castle all their own.

                “Noah, wait!” Max cried and Noah reached for another block.

                But it was too late. Noah’s elbow hit their castle, and they both watched in horror as it toppled over sideways, spilling blocks to the floor.

                “Aw man!” Max said, frowning.

                “Hey, it’s okay!” Noah said, slinging an arm around Max’s shoulders. “We can just build it again!”

                “Really?” Max asked.

                Noah nodded and handed him a block. “Yep! My daddy told me that when things fall down, you just have to pick them back up!”

                Max began to rearrange the blocks again. Noah cheerfully helped him, gathering up the fallen blocks and placing them back down to rebuild their castle.

                “Hey Max, we’re friends, right?” Noah said.

                “Yea we are,” Max said with a nod.

                “Good! Let’s be friends forever, okay?” Noah said.

                “Okay Noah!” Max said and giggled. “We’ll be friends forever!”

                #3- Evan Sudlow

                “Evander, you need to stop squirming,” Jared Sudlow said with a sigh as he struggled to hold onto his active child.

                But the baby continued to squirm about in his father’s arms, cranky since he hadn’t yet had his nap. His arms and legs worked rapidly and he looked up at his father, reaching up towards him.

                Jared couldn’t help but smile. He did love his son, even if Evander was far too hyperactive for a baby.

                “Come on buddy. Let’s put you down for your nap,” he said, kissing Evander’s head and starting to walk towards his room.

                He secured Evander in one arm, using his free hand to scratch his nose. But Evander, overtired and upset about still being awake, began to move again.

                Jared let out a horrified yell as the baby slipped out of his arm, hitting the ground and letting out a piercing scream.

                Jared recalled that day now as he watched Evan. He remembered his wife running into the room in a panic, and screaming when she saw her son on the floor. He remembered the overwhelming terror of thinking he had seriously injured his own child.

                “Daddy!” Evan said, wandering over to his father. “Daddy, come play with me!”

                “Evan, did you sneak a cookie from the kitchen today? Mommy said there was one missing from the plate,” Jared said.

                “I didn’t steal it. Not me. I would never steal it,” Evan said defensively.

                “Evan, you have cookie crumbs on your lip,” Jared said.

                “No I don’t,” Evan said, wiping the crumbs off of his lip.

                Jared stood up and lifted the six year old into his arms. Evan let out a noise of protest, but Jared ignored it.

                “Why did you lie?” he asked.

                “I didn’t. I didn’t take a cookie. I would never take a cookie. Mommy told me not to, so I didn’t sneak in there when she was on the phone with grandma to steal one,” he said.

                “I am so sorry I dropped you and screwed you up, kiddo,” Jared said hopelessly.

                “Huh?” Evan looked at his father in confusion. “You’re crazy, daddy.”

                Jared kissed Evan’s cheek and set him down. “I would play with you, but I have work to do Evander. I’ll play with you after dinner, I promise,” he said, ruffling Evan’s hair.

                Evan pouted. “No! Me first. Work second.”

                “No, Evander. Daddy has to do his work first,” Jared said patiently. Evan had always been self-centered, but Jared figured he’d grow out of it as he grew older.

                “No daddy!” Evan argued, grabbing his father’s hand. “Play with me first! I’m more important than work!”

                “Evan, I have to do my work, okay? I will play with you later,” Jared promised. Sometimes he wished that Evan was friends with the neighborhood kids. But they were all older than Evan. Evan’s only friends were Rory Kelly and Murphy O’Doherty.

                “Me first,” Evan said stubbornly.

                “Mommy will play with you buddy. Go ask her,” he said, giving Evan a light shove towards the kitchen so that he could sick the kid on his wife. He had to get his work done, and Evan was being too stubborn for that right now.

                “Fine. Rude,” Evan grumbled.

                He left his boring father and made his way into the kitchen. He tugged on his mother’s shirt and she glanced down at him.

                “Play with me mommy!” he commanded.

                “Hold on Evander. I’m on the phone,” his mother said dismissively. She turned back to the stove to finish cooking dinner.

                Evan moodily pulled himself up onto one of the stools at the counter. He hated it when no one would play with him. Everyone should be fighting to play with him!

                “I’ll just go play by myself,” Evan said, jumping off of the stool.

                He started walking to leave the kitchen, but found himself tripping over his own feet. He let out a helpless yell as he hit the ground hard.

                “Evan!” his mom cried in alarm, dropping next to him. “Are you okay?!”

                Evan blinked back tears as he rubbed his smarting knee. His mom helped him up and sighed, adjusting the phone.

                “No, it’s alright. Evan just tripped and fell,” she said into the phone. “No, he’s fine. I think he just hit his knee. Evan, are you okay?”

                “I hit my knee! I need the doctor!” he cried, rubbing his knee again.

                “Oh Evan. You’re fine,” she said, stroking his hair lightly. “But that is the third time you’ve tripped this week. I hope to god that someday you either learn how to walk like a normal human, or that you at least met someone who can catch you before you hurt yourself.”

                Evan huffed and crossed his arms.

                Well, he thought bitterly, this wouldn’t have happened if someone would have just played with him!

                #4- Tommy Warren and Zeke Baker

                “Hey Tommy,” Mikey Warren said.

                “What are you doing?” Sammy Warren asked.

                Seven year old Tommy Warren eyed his brothers warily. He could tell just by looking at them that they were up to something.

                “Hey Mikey, guess what?”

                “What, Sammy?”

                “I like Tommy’s water guns!”

                “Me too!”

                The older boys lunged forward. Sammy tackled Tommy to the ground as Mikey grabbed his water guns off of his dresser.

                “Hey!” Tommy cried angrily, struggling. “Those are mine! Let go Sammy! Guys, stop it!”

                “Stop it,” his brothers taunted. Mikey handed Sammy a water gun, and the two proceeded to squirt Tommy with them.

                Tommy stumbled backwards as the cold water in them hit him. He let out a frustrated yell and charged at Sammy, since Sammy was smaller.

                But Sammy caught Tommy easily and knocked him to the ground. Tommy covered his head as they continued to shoot at him, laughing as they did so.

                “SAMUEL! MICHAEL!”

                The two stopped and paled as they looked up at their mother. Sally Warren was standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips, glaring at her oldest sons.

                She stormed over and snatched the water guns out of their hands, pulling Tommy to his feet. She slammed the guns down on Tommy’s dresser.

                “DO NOT PICK ON YOUR BROTHER LIKE THAT!” she yelled.

                “Sorry Tommy,” they mumbled.

                “Zeke is here. Go downstairs to play with him, and we’ll talk about this in a little,” she said.

                The boys scrambled out of the room. Sally sighed as she eyed Tommy, who was now dripping water from his clothes and hair.

                “Tommy, change your clothes, okay? I’ll go handle your brothers,” she said, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and leaving his bedroom, shutting his door as she went.

                Tommy pulled his wet clothes off, stripping down to his underwear. He pulled on a pair of shorts and dug around for a shirt.

                His bedroom door opened and he spun around. Nine year old Zeke Baker came into the room, looking at Tommy with interest.

                “They really got you, huh? You mom was pretty mad,” he said, sitting down on Tommy’s bed.

                “What are you doing in here?” Tommy asked, pulling a shirt on.

                “Well, Sammy and Mikey were getting in trouble. I wasn’t going to stick around,” Zeke said, cracking a cute smile.

                Tommy went over and sat down next to Zeke. He and Zeke had a strange friendship. To everyone else on the soccer team, he was just Mikey and Sammy’s little brother. But to Zeke, he was Tommy Warren. Zeke actually acknowledged him as more than just the midget of the team.

                Zeke wrapped an arm around Tommy’s shoulders, pulling him close and playfully ruffling his hair. Tommy couldn’t help but giggle as he tried to fight off Zeke. Unlike with his brothers, he knew that Zeke was just being playful.

                He managed to struggle free and fixed his hair. He lightly shoved Zeke and beamed up at him. He had always looked up to Zeke. He cared for Zeke a lot.

                “You think you can take me, Thomas?” Zeke challenged with a grin.

                “I think I can, Ezekiel-Xavier,” Tommy said smugly.

                Zeke pouted and tackled Tommy back on his bed. His grin returned as he began to tickle Tommy, causing the younger boy to flail about wildly as he shrieked with laughter.

                “Well, what’s going on in here?” Tommy’s father, Brady Warren, asked as he came into the room.

                “He was tickling me,” Tommy said, struggling to catch his breath as Zeke pulled him up.

                “Zeke, the boys are done being screamed at by their mother if you want to go play with them,” Brady said.

                Zeke jumped off of the bed. He smiled and hugged Tommy. “Bye Tommy! I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” he said cheerfully, waving and leaving the room.

                Tommy watched him go, frowning. He wished that his brothers would let him play with them. He loved spending time with Zeke, and was always sad to see him go.

                “Hey, turn that frown upside down Tomcat,” Brady said, giving Tommy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

                “Someday Zeke will want to play with me too, right dad?” Tommy asked, gazing up at his father.

                “I think he will want to play with you too Tommy,” Brady said with a smile.

                #5- Trace Saunders

                Trace Saunders sat up in the attic of the pool house. He was playing with his toy cars, bored out of his mind.

                “I wish Zeke was free,” the five year old muttered to himself. His best friend, Zeke, was out for the day with his parents.

                Trace stood up, short enough that he didn’t hit his head on the low ceiling of the attic. He moved over to the ladder and carefully climbed down it, leaving the pool house.

                He went back into his house and into the kitchen. His mother was there, sitting at the kitchen table, typing away on her laptop.

                “Mommy,” he said, going over and poking her leg to get her attention.

                “What do you want Trace?” she asked without looking at him.

                “Will you play with me?” he asked hopefully.

                “Go find your father. I don’t have time for that,” she said flatly.

                Trace’s face fell. He struggled to hold onto his emotions. Even at the tender age of five, he knew that he couldn’t let his father see him get upset over his mother.

                Trace slowly left the kitchen and left the house. He grabbed a soccer ball out of the garage and went over to the pool house.

                He dropped the ball to the ground and kicked it furiously. It slammed into the side of the pool house and rolled back to him. He continued to kick it as hard as he could, fighting back tears as he did so. He just wished his mom would play with him, at least once.

                “Trace!”

                Trace trapped the ball and faced his dad. Brandon Saunders jogged over to his son and frowned, wrapping an arm around Trace.

                “What’s wrong Trace?” he asked.

                “Nothing,” Trace said. “I’m hungry, daddy.”

                Brandon lifted Trace into his arms. “It’s getting late, huh? Let’s make some dinner. We can have the leftovers from last night,” he said, carrying Trace into the house.

                He tossed their leftovers in the microwave and set Trace down. He pulled the food out of the microwave when it was ready and handed a plate to Trace.

                Trace bounded over to the kitchen table and sat down with his food. Brandon sat next to him and, noticing his son’s moody state, grinned and began to tickle him.

                “Daddy st-stop!” Trace cried, laughing wildly and trying to struggle away from Brandon.

                “Brandon!” Laura Saunders snapped, finally looking up from her laptop. “I am trying to work!”

                “Sorry Laura,” Brandon said, letting Trace catch his breath.

                Trace giggled and reached out, attempting to tickle his dad. Brandon forced himself to laugh as if Trace were actually tickling him.

                “Oh no! Stop it Trace!” he said, true laughter coming now. He loved seeing Trace in a good mood.

                “Trace Nicholas Saunders!” Laura snapped.

                Trace looked up, startled. Laura glared at him from across the table, tapping her finger against her laptop.

                “I am working, Trace. Be quiet!” she said furiously.

                Trace shrank back and nodded timidly. “I’m sorry mommy,” he muttered.

                “Come on Trace,” Brandon mumbled, lifting Trace into his arms and carrying him out of the room. He would have to talk to Laura later and remind her that Trace was just a little boy.

                He brought Trace up to his bedroom and set him on his bed. Trace was looking down with a sad expression that broke Brandon’s heart to see.

                “Hey buddy, I’ll play with you tomorrow, okay?” he said gently.

                “Daddy, does mommy love me?” Trace asked, looking up at his father and desperately fighting back tears.

                “Of course she does,” Brandon said, wondering if it was actually true. “Mommy loves you and I love you. Very, very much Tracey.”

                Trace stood up and wrapped his arms around his father’s waist, burying his face against him. He held him tightly, his small body trembling.

                “I love you daddy,” Trace whispered.

                “I love you too Trace,” Brandon said honestly, hugging Trace back. All he wanted was for Trace to feel the love of a mother. The poor boy had been neglected ever since he had been born. He loved Trace with his whole heart, but he just couldn’t give him the love of a mother.

                Trace couldn’t fight back his tears anymore as he cried into his dad’s shirt. Brandon held Trace tightly, wanting the boy to know that he wasn’t unloved.

                Trace gripped his father tightly, silently vowing to protect himself. He wasn’t going to let anyone in. If people couldn’t get close to him, people couldn’t hurt him. He had his daddy and his friends, and that’s all he needed.

                As his father lifted him into his arms and held him close, Trace promised himself that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt him the way his mommy had.

                “I love you daddy,” Trace repeated.

                They were words Trace knew he wouldn’t speak often.

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A.N.- Alright, so let me know what you guys thought of this! If you like it and want me to do another, just let me know what characters you would want in it. :)