Of all of the things the former president of Sugar Rush could've been doing at the moment, this was the last thing on Vanellope von Schweetz's mind.

On any other day, she would've been spending time like she would've wanted: doing some practice runs in Sugar Rush with Ralph cheering her on, getting a quick root beer float in Tapper, or maybe even just hanging out with Ralph in Game Central Station, or Fix-It Felix, Jr.

But no. Felix had to come dashing into her game not a half hour after the arcade closed, babbling something about "Tammy going into labor". Whatever Felix did say, he and Ralph ended up dragging her all the way to Hero's Duty to sit outside a boring medic's station while she waited for the birth of her surrogate sibling/cousin/niece/nephew...

Vanellope couldn't help a low moan pass from her lips. "Ugh...how long does it take to have a baby, anyway? It's been...how long has it been?!"

"Dunno. Seven, eight hours," her older brother chuckled, ignoring the moan of sheer boredom from Vanellope. "Cut Calhoun some slack, kid. Having a baby's a lot tougher than I think you know."

"And how would you know that, Stinkbrian?"

Almost as if purposely waiting for a cue, the adopted siblings could faintly hear the shrieks and moans from behind the metal door.

"I SWEAR TO FRICKIN' MOD, FIX-IT, IF YOU LAY A SINGLE FINGER ON ME AFTER THIS, I WILL RIP YOUR HORNY LITTLE-"

"TAMMY!"

"-OFF IN THE MOST PAINFUL WAY POSSIBLE!"

"Um...Sergeant Calhoun, if you put more effort into pushing instead of screaming at your husband, the baby would probably be here a lot quicker."

"You hear that, Tammy? Just breathe, relax, and-put that down, Tammy-put it down!" What followed was a series of panicked shuffling and shouts (and maybe a few gunshots; Vanellope couldn't tell) as the medics struggled to get whatever Tamora Jean Calhoun had chosen as a weapon away from her.

An exasperated sigh escaped Ralph as he muttered, "That's how."

After all of the utter nothing that went on for the past hours, there was absolutely no way for Vanellope to predict what would happen in the hours that occurred afterward. She wished it never happened; nothing was so much better than what everyone would go through next.

It began with Felix, ever so gently, creaking open the door that had been closed shut for the past eight hours. He looked awful. His brown hair was tangled and knotted, his left hand was bent in an unnatural angle, and dark bags sagged under his eyes. However, tears ran down those same bloodshot eyes, and Ralph and Vanellope could faintly hear small laughs bubble up from his wide grin, almost overshadowed by the sound of a newborn's wails.

He looked like a new father.

Without a moment of pause, Vanellope let the one question that she had waited nearly all night to answer. "Boy or girl?"

"Girl," Felix giggled. "The prettiest little lady I've ever seen in my life…next to her mother, of course! You should see her; she looks like Tam-"

And that was when he was pushed to the side by his little-sister-by-extension so she could skitter into the room where his wife was recuperating. For a moment, he opened his mouth to warn her to come back, but Vanellope's squeal of wonder told him he came too late. He chose instead to smile back at his adopted brother, and walk back in the delivery room.

The first thing Vanellope noticed about her niece was how tiny she was. Sure, she knew babies were tiny: that was common knowledge. But, compared to the few that she had seen (mostly in carriers held by stressed mothers picking up older siblings from the arcade), Felix's and Calhoun's daughter was puny. Why, the more Vanellope looked at her, the more she looked like the baby doll she saw a little girl carrying a few months ago: too fake, too fragile, too small.

Yet, here she was. Little enough to fit across two of her mother's hands and still have room left over, skin red as licorice, and swaddled in a pink blanket tight enough that Vanellope was surprised she wasn't screaming from pain. On one hand, that scrunch-faced alien was one the ugliest things Vanellope had ever seen in her life.

On the other hand, she was also the most beautiful.

Nearly deafening both mother and child with her adoring squeal, Vanellope hopped onto a chair next to Calhoun's bed, leaning over to get a better look.

"Lookit her! She's so cute!" Plunging her hand into the blankets to have the girl clutch at her fingers, she turned to Calhoun. "Isn't she?"

After an exhausted sigh, Calhoun gave the nine-year-old a small, tired grin. "I guess so."

"What're ya gonna name her?" Vanellope giggled, trying to pull her fingers from the baby's fist.

"Vanellope von Schweetz," she heard behind her, "I'd like to introduce our beautiful baby girl, Essie." Felix hopped from the doorway of the room to the chair where Vanellope was sitting.

Not even Vanellope could ignore the disgusted narrowing of Calhoun's eyes. "I was going to show her our more beautiful daughter, Brennan."

"…How about our even more beautiful daughter, Marybeth?"

"After that lady in your apartment? Hell no. Dylan."

"Claribel."

"Ryan."

"Catharine!"

"Parker!"

"Annmarie!"

"Tyler!"

The couple's argument was short-lived, thankfully ripped away at the chirping of a nine-year-old girl. "Um…Elizabeth!"

Two pairs of somewhat surprised eyes flickered toward Vanellope. "What?" Calhoun asked, her eyes still clouded over in the mixture of painkillers, fatigue, and confusion.

"E-Elizabeth," the girl stammered. "I mean…there's a girl who comes here a lot named Elizabeth, and it's the only girl's name that came to mind, so-"

"I like it," Felix interrupted, smiling at Vanellope, then down at his daughter, then at his wife. "'Elizabeth Calhoun'. What do you think, Tammy?"

Her only response was a low moan of exasperation, and a fatigued, "Really? Elizabeth?"

"Oh, Tammy, now what's wrong with a nice name like Elizabeth?"

His wife shrugged, wincing slightly at the pain it caused her. "Dunno. It just seems too…flowery, for my taste."

"…well, I mean, the good thing with a name like this is that it has all kinds of nicknames! I mean, it doesn't have to be Elizabeth, you can call her something like, oh I don't know, Liz, or maybe—"

He continued to babble, talking about how they didn't even have to give it to her as her first name; they could pick another name as her first name and give her Elizabeth as a sweet little middle name, or maybe they could call her by her last name, or maybe come up with a nice pet name for her, or maybe even—

"Fix-It…Fix-It, Fix-It, Fix-It," Calhoun interrupted quietly yet firmly. A slight snicker found its way into her voice. "Do you really wanna name her Elizabeth that badly?"

"Well, um—"

"If it means that much to you, fine, I don't care. She can be Elizabeth…"

"Golly, Tammy, thanks! I know that—"

"…as long as I give her her middle name," she interrupted again.

No one could ignore how Felix's smile dropped just a little. "U-um, alright, Tammy, what do you have in mind?"

A mischievous smirk spread across his wife's face before her gaze fell upon the little scrunched-up girl sleeping in her arms. "Hunter. Her middle name's Hunter. I can call her that, and you can call her Lizzy."

Vanellope struggled not to howl with laughter at how Felix's shoulders fell in mortification. "Oh, but Tammy, think about how confused that will make her!"

"Oh, so I have to suck it up when I name her something I don't like, but now you can't make a compromise like that?"

"Tammy, I didn't mean that-!"

The couple were so caught up in their argument that they didn't notice their daughter's aunt hopping off the bed, and walking out of the medic's area.

"Better walk me home now," she giggled to her older brother. "It'll be a while before anyone's allowed back in."

"You're kidding me."

"Nyooope," Vanellope chimed teasingly to Ralph. "They couldn't find anyone to take care of the baby for them, so it's up to you and me for tonight!"

The man's eyes flickered to the newborn sleeping in her crib. One hand was popped in her mouth for her to suck, and the other was clenching the stuffed lamb Mary had given her a few days after Felix brought his daughter to his game for the first time. Sewn into the lamb's neck was a bib embroidered with the girl's initials. "E.H.C."

Elizabeth Hunter Calhoun.

Ralph turned his eyes from his fragile young niece to his grinning younger sister. "No way."

The girl's hazel eyes narrowed in skepticism. "Really? C'mon, Ralph! She's your niece! You're her uncle! Isn't it, like, your job to do stuff like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like put up with her screams when her parents can't take it anymore?! Ralph, seriously, it's just a few hours! Just enough so they can go out and have some time for themselves without having to put up with changing diapers and bathing…? Aw, Ralph, ya heard Calhoun's screams, and I'm sure Felix didn't have that much fun, either; don't they deserve this, at least?"

Ralph's scowl lessened as he saw that there was no way for him to talk his way out of this situation. "Fine…You're gonna be the one to take care of her, though. I'll just sit back, and make sure that everything's alright with you."

Vanellope's eyes widened as realization dawned over her. "You're scared of hurting her…" she mumbled, a smile slowly starting to widen across her cheeks. It grew, bigger and bigger, until she was doubled over, howling in laughter. "T-that-that's so stupid!"

Glancing nervously at the sleeping Lizzy's crib, Ralph's gaze flickered back to Vanellope quickly. "Kid, be quiet! Don't wake her up!" he hissed.

Almost as if on cue, faintly smothering Vanellope's laughter, a loud whining emitted from Lizzy's crib. The girl's shrieks grew louder as she grew more and more frustrated that her nap was interrupted.

Ralph's ginormous hand met his face in exasperation. He sighed, and turned to his sister. "I'll be in the penthouse. This is your fault; you calm her down."

He turned to leave, and started the delicate task of maneuvering through the room without breaking anything, until Vanellope called from behind him. "Aw, c'mon, Ralphie; this is the perfect time to spend some quality time with your niece!"

He turned around, and shot her a glare that caused her face to pale considerably, and for her to stutter out, "O-or maybe I could help her; I mean, she's my niece, too!" The sentence was punctuated by very nervous laughter.

Ralph nodded, and finally succeeded in getting out of the room. "Come meet me back at the penthouse when you get her to sleep again," he called over his shoulder.

"Will do, Stinkbrain," Vanellope called back, raising her tiny hand in a salute.

The baby didn't cry again for another four hours. Honestly, Ralph was impressed with how well the girl behaved; weren't babies supposed to be needier than that? Like, shouldn't have she kept them in and out of her room constantly, catering to her every whim? Was she okay? Maybe he should have checked on her earlier…

It was almost a relief when he heard staticky screams piping from the tiny baby monitor set on Vanellope's lap.

"Vanellope," he called to the girl, requesting her help with the baby. "Vanellope," he snapped, a little louder this time.

Nothing. The little girl was asleep.

Barely hiding his groan of exasperation, Ralph heaved a sigh, and stood up as if every movement of his joints was paining him. His sister was going to be of no help; he had to handle this himself.

Lizzy was still shrieking as her uncle lumbered into her room. Picking his steps carefully, as if stepping through a landmine (oh, how he wished that wasn't based on personal experience), he moved around scattered toys and furniture, peered into the little white crib.

Lizzy's little red, wrinkled face was screwed in frustration and her tiny hands were clenched into fists, crumpling the fabric of her lamb. As if she was aware of her uncle's presence in the room (and how couldn't she, with the racket he made as he came to her?), her face turned to where he was standing, her eyes screwing shut even more than they had been before. Like she was saying, "Thank Mod you're here! Now, find out what I want!"

Covering his face in irritation, Ralph turned to his niece, and heaved a groan. "Don't worry, kid, I'm here, what's wrong?" he murmured down her.

To his surprise, her crying stopped. Her face relaxed, and she snuggled into her stuffed animal again.

Ralph stared at her in surprise, before he shrugged and turned to leave. Probably just a fluke.

Just as before, however, he was interrupted by his exit. Only, instead of his sister's teasing voice, it was his niece's whimper. Within a few seconds, she was starting to cry again.

He immediately turned back to Lizzy, and looked down at him. "What was that?" he asked her, as if she could actually understand.

Almost as if on cue, the crying stopped, and she was just as calm as she was before.

Ralph's eyes widened and a grin cracked across his face as he realized what was wrong. "Oh…" he whispered. "Oh….You're lonely, aren't you?"

As if confirming his theory, the girl's face turned to him again, only this time as if to say, "Talk to me more."

He looked around the little room, as if to find something to talk to the baby about, before turning down to little Lizzy and smiling. "Hey, kid…my name's Ralph…and I guess I'm your uncle."

Her "gaze" still hadn't left him, so he guessed that must have been a good thing. "I…I know I haven't really talked to you since you were born, but don't worry; I won't forget ya."

He paused, thinking on something to tell her: a made-up story, or maybe something from his experiences? His grin grew all the more as he made his decision on what to say. "Hey, Lizzy, ya know how I found out you were going to be born? I asked your mommy why she was throwing up so much, and she bombed my house with a grenade of hers. Thank Mod your daddy has that hammer of his…"

Lizzy raised her hand weakly, flopping the lamb over her eyes as if in embarrassment. She cried out weakly upon having her breathing weakly smothered. Her uncle chuckled slightly, and nudged the toy out of the girl's face with his index finger. "Anyway, I hear about you doing anything like that, I'm gonna have to give ya a…stern talking to, or something," he gently scolded. "Maybe have your auntie to hit you with a pillow. Maybe."

The girl was still quiet. "I…I guess it's my job to spoil ya, right?" Ralph continued, growing increasingly awkward. "L-listen, if I haven't by the time you can realize it, I need you to go out and tell me to do something for you, like taking you to Sugar Rush, or anything else you want. Just…don't ask me to build anything…you'll learn not to; that's best left to your daddy. But…ask me or your Auntie Vanellope to get you anything, like a pet marshmallow bunny or a puppy made of gummy bears, or something…"

Finally (finally!), Lizzy was just beginning to drift off, lulled to sleep by her uncle's voice. Her grip on the doll was getting lighter, and her head flopped toward the side as her muscles relaxed.

Ralph gave the girl a loving smirk. "You're gonna be so spoiled," he whispered as he gently reached into the crib, and stroked her cheek. Upon having her face touched, the girl turned to her uncle one last time, and gently…ever so gently…cracked her eyes open.

She was beautiful, oh Mod, was she beautiful. The little blue orbs gazed at their owner's uncle with gentle curiosity that could only be of someone opening their eyes for the first time (or at least, one of their first times). She stared at him, as if waiting for something to finish his story with, and he gently uttered those three words with another touch to her forehead.

"I love you."

At that, he stepped away from the sleeping girl, and just as he was about to turn, a piercing shriek brought him scrambling back to her bedside.

Lizzy was glitching. Badly, too; lines of blue binary traveled up and down her body, tearing her very code apart, searing her body with what Ralph could only imagine to be inconceivable pain.

In his desperate attempt to save her, in some way, some shape, some form, he reached one of his huge hands in, to pick her up, to do…something. Just get her away from whatever was hurting her, get her to help, get her somewhere.

She phased right through his hand. He couldn't even touch her.

All he could do was watch in helpless terror as the little girl gave one last agonizing scream, disappeared once more into binary…and…

…she didn't come back. Ralph shoved his hand into her crib, almost as if to find out if she was still there, and he just couldn't see her. No, no, she couldn't have been deleted, no, no, no, no, this only happened when games were unplugged, nonononono.

She was gone.

Ever so gently, Ralph stepped out of the room, not even caring the rocking chair he accidentally splintered, or the toy train crushed in his departure. Numbly, filled with shock, he walked through the halls, toward the penthouse, where Vanellope would be waiting, sleeping, and maybe even Felix and Calhoun, and oh Mod what was he going to tell Felix and Calhoun?

The penthouse door seemed huge and looming, almost as terrifying as being face-to-face with a cybug (maybe even more). He could faintly hear the hushed joking and laughing of Felix and Calhoun, and the realization that he actually had to tell them that their only child was dead hit him like a bag of bricks.

Gently, ever so gently, he placed his hand on the door, and pushed. Two pairs of happy (or, in the case of Calhoun, silently tolerating) eyes shot to him as soon as the door was open. A quiet silence followed that probably only lasted a second or two, but to Ralph felt like an eternity.

The silence was finally broken by a bubbly laugh from Felix that Ralph only heard when he had one or two drinks too many. "Hey, brother, we're back!" he giggled. "Vannie's sure worn out! Do you want me to walk her back to Sugar Rush for you?"

Before Ralph could take a breath in otherwise, Felix continued. "Must've been from taking care of Lizzy! How is she, anyway? Is she sleeping?"

Ralph looked down at his close friend, and opened his mouth gently. "F-Felix…"

Felix's smile dropped immediately at the sight of Ralph's expression. "What happened?" he whispered frantically, now stone-cold sober.

Ralph opened his mouth to explain, but the only thing that could come out was three little words.

"I'm so sorry…"

"Yes, welcome to the Leon Police Department; how can I help you?"

"Um, yes, I'd like to report a missing child?"

"Alright, what's its name, and who are you?"

"Uh…no, not report a missing child, I mean…turn in a missing child that I found…."

A heavy sigh from the end of the line. "Which child?"

"Not a reported missing child, but…an abandoned one. I found an abandoned child on the side of the freeway."

"Where are you?"

"On South Greenweadow Knoll. I was driving, and there was a newborn baby on the side of the road. Please, help; I think she's having trouble breathing."

"Alright, alright, ma'am, just give us a moment. Stay on the line until an ambulance comes. Now, what's your name?

"I'm Dorothy…Dorothy Carter."