Desert Hurts
By Puffin/Puffinstuf/Hector Gilbert

Chapter Three
"Custody"

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon. But Rob Rod is my own character, let that at least be known...

Will knelt on the top of the stairway, listening to the judgements of the Team Rocket leader.

"I'm sorry," Fortress explained (or at least tried to), "I know just as well as you do that if Triatu was to control the security in the area, it would certainly prevent people from stealing or otherwise sabotaging our supplies. But surely we can't place our trust so openly on a single Pokémon!"

Will looked back at him, a hint of annoyance marking his tone. "We need to have control here. Triatu isn't very well-known, to say the least. I only recently evolved my third Xatu to this form; a month ago, it was still only a Natu. A way to repel attackers, surely, would be through a fear of the unknown."

Fortress' eyes narrowed. "Allow me to be blunt, Will."

"Yes, sir?" Will's eyes brightened looking at his commander.

"I believe that you are repeating what you were saying, just with different wording."

It made Will sigh. Fortress wore a beret, making him look like a grunt. His huge Crobat always stood by his side, acting as his sole Pokémon and bodyguard. It was said to have the highest level of any Pokémon belonging to Team Rocket. He helped oust Rob and Giovanni. A rebel leader he was; a dictator he was not.

If Will could say all that to him in reply, he would feel better with himself. But Fortress didn't like telepathy. He only accepted the crudeness of speech.

With that in mind, Will knew that he would have no regrets in killing him.

***

Two men stood exposed to the air in a fenced-over compound, holding their weapons. One of them portrayed the sense of having authority and loving it with a twisted sense of passion.

"We have the man you want in your office, sir," the grunt reported. "He's waiting."

"Excellent," Rob replied with a nod. "Tell Gary that I shall only be another fifteen minutes or so."

"Yes, sir." He turned around and walked away in an even pace that Rob found highly amusing. Rob kept watching him until he vanished into the building that housed the sector of his quarters, before grinning to himself with accomplishment.

So he came when you needed him.

Stupidly, Rob first thought that it was his own thoughts. He heard from Will of Rocket City all the time, but he still couldn't get used to the "whole psychic business". It took him a few seconds.

Sure, Rob thought, and there's nothing wrong with that.

I want him to help me too, you know.

That's what I was planning, Rob noted.

But it was to no avail, as Rob could sense by then that Will was gone.

There was tension. There was always tension. Will also had his own agenda, but Rob felt that he could handle him. After all, what were the power of thoughts compared to that of the bodies which held them?

Still, he was a useful resource. A member of the Elite Four in fact, while the Pokémon League that supported it still existed. Rob needed Will. But Will also needed Rob... For the time being.

Either way, in order to satisfy Will Rob certainly knew from the start that he would need Butch.

***

Butch sat down on a wooden chair, his hands cuffed to the seat and his feet tied together. The fibers of the rope that prevented his feet from moving were apparently made out of a hard plastic material; with the skin on his legs unable to breathe, Butch felt an itching sensation that was slowly starting to grow on him.

Butch was certain that the suits that bound him up didn't mean to tie him up so securely, but gave that little extra under the orders of a "Rob Rod". Butch remembered that Cassidy used to always think that he was paranoid with thoughts of his being coerced. But recently, he also remembered where Cassidy was now.

In contrast to Butch's now-inconvenient Team Rocket uniform, Rob was wearing only an undershirt and trousers over his lean body for the warm desert afternoon. With Rob's limited attire Butch could see a long, white mark stretching from his armpit. The long cut was initially from a Scyther, meaning to aim at his heart but just missing the target area. Butch knew that, because at the time the Scyther was his.

Wandering memories haunted Butch like a Misdreavus played with small children, poking and teasing him with no sign of an end. But apparently not with Rob. Rob - by default - forgot everything except for what he didn't need to forget.

"...Butch?"

Hearing Rob's voice, Butch slowly began to divert his thoughts. "Hmm?"

"Cassidy is gone," Rob observed, "isn't she?"

Butch kept his head down when he heard that, because Rob was smiling again. He didn't need to see; Rob couldn't help himself. Rob hated Cassidy - in contrast to Butch - as she didn't need a gun to be powerful.

"You know," Rob continued, "there is no way out of this."

Butch remained silent. Rob didn't.

"Want me to explain?"

Butch's eyes narrowed. "Sure."

"Well," Rob chuckled, "to put it simply, there are two places around here which have water: this compound, and the Team Rocket Base. The rest? Deserted towns... Dead bodies... I am quite sure that you have seen enough of those around."

"Yeah?"

Rob's smile faded. "What I'm essentially saying is that this place is the last chance you have. I know that. You know that."

Butch's fists tensed up further, even though they were already clenched. He did know that, quite well.

"How would you like to get back at Team Rocket?" Rob asked. "You know about their prisoners."

No response, but it wasn't that Rob cared.

"I will let you work here," Rob explained, "if you take care of my rivals in business. Those prisoners they have are potentially quite powerful. Recent reports suggest that Ash Ketchum, Tracey Sketchit, and now Misty Waterflower are being held captive."

Butch's eyes gleamed. "Are you telling me the truth?" Butch asked, forcing himself to look directly at Rob's face.

Rob nodded. "You know that freeing them will throw them into a panic."

"Then," Butch sighed, "get me out of this chair."

"I knew that you would see things my way." Rob approached Butch from behind, taking out his keys to the handcuffs.

"Shut it," Butch thought and nearly said.

Butch's hands felt funny as they were finally freed from the grip of the metal handcuffs, as did his feet when they were finally able to breathe again seconds later. For a few seconds, Butch didn't actually move at all.

But once Butch got going, he surprised himself with his haste to get away - such that he nearly tripped up when Rob interrupted him.

"Hey!" Butch stopped.

"Gary will provide you with your supplies," Rob explained, "he's at the sector just opposite."

"I won't need supplies," Butch growled, not looking back.

"You will."

Butch slammed the door behind him. Once he did, Rob heard Will's voice again.

He won't get very far, will he?

***

Butch knew of Gary Oak. He was a prime target of Team Rocket for many years; while he was a young trainer he was in many ways more feared than Ash. But he didn't stay devoted to his training in his teens, instead devoting himself to research after his famous grandfather had died of a heart condition. Butch also knew even before meeting Gary that Rob would have loved him, so it was no surprise to him that Gary himself was working in his compound.

In the end Butch supposed that Gary's path was the right way to go. His former rival Ash Ketchum had most of his Pokémon killed - but his starter, the famous Pikachu, suffered an even more dishonorable fate: it was stolen by Team Rocket, left to rot in a pokéball within the depths of the storage facilities at headquarters.

And here Gary was, talking to Butch in a room filled to the brim with labeled pokéballs ordered in many shelves.

"I'm sure that you know quite a lot about this one," Gary said while bringing out one of the pokéballs and showing it to Butch.

It was a pokéball with a blue line across the top. Looking closely, Butch could make out "Mantine".

"Yes," Butch agreed. "I had a Mantine in my old squad once."

"So I have been told," Gary replied.

No doubt by Rob, Butch mused. I wonder what else he has "told" him. I remember my old Mantine...

"How did you get this?" Butch questioned him. "Mantines these days are almost extinct."

Gary smiled. "Ah, but you see, I have almost all of them. Some of these beauties are even reported to be extinct. Mantine is one of the more common ones here right now."

Butch wasn't interested in that now though; he just kept looking at the ball. "Whose is this?"

Gary laughed, but at Butch rather than with him. "It's going to be yours, of course."

Butch's heart skipped a beat. "Minimal use?"

Gary nodded. "Yes and no. It has been used before, in other operations. But you can take this one for good."

Butch, having since forgotten his sense of manners, snatched the pokéball from Gary's hands. The Mantine was his now.

Butch wouldn't have practiced minimal use with it anyway, no matter what the consequences would be. The concept of minimal use was discovered rather characteristically by Gary Oak himself. With the discovery came Gary's "Rule of Minimal Use": a caught Pokémon imprints on its master after a given period of time, and is loyal to that trainer for the rest of its life unless traded. If the Pokémon is not in contact with one particular trainer for the (varying) required period of time, however, it can be used again and again with different trainers as a tool of war. It was commonly used by Team Rocket - and probably Rob's men.

Butch slipped the pokéball in his trouser pocket. "What else?"

Gary held his breath. "What else?" He seemed to turn red, as if he was quite angry. "...A couple of things."

Gary slammed Butch's gun on the table with a fresh clip beside it. A compass lay on the table as well. "We trust that you will obtain food and water from Rocket City yourself," Gary stated with a much blander tone than before.

"Thank you," Butch acknowledged subtly.

Gary stared blankly at him. "Go."

***

"Everything's in order. You are dismissed, Gary." With that, Rob watched Gary moving towards the door to the outside.

Rob's eyes sharpened upon noticing a strange augmentation to the pokéball that Gary held in his right hand. Next thing he noticed was that Gary wasn't leaving; rather, he was simply moving towards the closed door, and blocking Rob's way with his body.

Rob recognized the thin gray line on the top of the pokéball. "Is that not the one with Butch's new Mantine in it?"

Gary nodded, but his facial expression had frozen up. "Yeah, I found that it had gone wrong so I gave him another one."

Rob cocked an eyebrow. "Well, I say! 'Gone wrong'?"

"Yeah..." Gary looked Rob straight in the face. "Gone wrong."

"In what way, may I ask?"

Gary let out a sigh, making Rob wait for his response. "...I have found that the Mantine you have given me is not meant for minimal use. It answers primarily to Will, a trainer of mainly psychic Pokémon and formerly of the Elite Four."

Rob opened his mouth to speak at first, but found himself speechless; he hated it when he had to do that, as it certainly didn't happen too often. Gary knew full well that the Mantine was to flush out Butch when they were done, on Will's command. Rob had discussed that with him. That was the plan.

"Well, I must say - you are a very admirable and foolish man," Rob stated as he whipped out his Beretta.

Gary was grinding his teeth, trying not to look at Rob's face. He seemed to be hiding something in his pocket, in fact it took Rob no second thoughts to believe beyond doubt that he was.

"You brought that Butterfree with you," Rob realized out loud.

Gary finally grinned. "Correct." He began to carefully reach into his pocket.

"Don't release it," Rob growled, his usually bright eyes gleaming ever colder.

Gary tutted. "You know that I'm not one to take orders like that, Rob." And indeed, within another couple of seconds he had his own pokéball in hand and at the ready.

Rob gave him a warning shot with his pistol, but for Gary it seemed to not be so much a "warning" as it was an excuse to retaliate. He leapt away from where the bullet hit, chucking his pokéball to the ground at the same time.

A white flash lit up the scene, as Butterfree came out of its pokéball. Rob swore through his teeth as this blinding flash caused him to miss Gary on his next few shots.

Two against one. Rob reckoned that it was just as Gary had hoped, for it was just as Rob had feared.

Butterfree didn't get any orders from Gary, because it didn't need them. It used supersonic without hesitation, as it was understandably Gary's favorite attack and not Rob's.

He knew what was coming, and began to aim at Butterfree but at this stage even Rob himself knew that it was too late. The noise that screamed in Rob's head began at such a high frequency that his mind couldn't recognize it, but gradually it began to take its toll as the frequency steadily decreased.

The weak wooden floor creaked angrily at Gary as he charged straight at Rob, but Rob couldn't hear a thing. The noise distracted him, making him fire that split-second too slow at a swerving Butterfree.

Gary tackled Rob, pinning him against the wall with a loud resounding "bang" that Rob himself didn't notice. He did notice the floor, however, when his face met with it.

Rob felt Gary nuzzle him against the corner, and from the corner of his eye he noticed Butterfree finally halting in one position. Perhaps it thought that its job was done.

Sensing his opportunity through the noise in his head, Rob swung his pistol forward to face the other end of the room and half-blindly fired a few more shots. The first few missed, but a final bullet took Butterfree down to the floor like a Yanma being swatted.

Gary balanced himself on top of Rob by putting his hands on the wall; one foot slammed against the hand that held Rob's gun - forcing him to finally let go of it - while the other kicked Rob's face. No foot in the face alone satisfied Gary; he kept at it, honoring himself every time Rob flinched.

Rob took his free hand, and pushed Gary slightly with it.

As a result he suddenly soared backwards, further than even Rob had expected. He impacted against the toughened ebony surface with an almighty crash, before flopping motionless on the floor.

Finally, the noise from the fallen Butterfree stopped. The pokémon went down with its master.

Rob got up from his position and ran over to check the pulse; indeed, Gary was dead. His eyes were still open, staring into nothing; Rob's first impulse was to close Gary's eyelids shut, but he looked sufficiently amusing to him the way he was.

Gary's neck was broken. He had shot back from one end of the sector to the other, hitting the wall hard. He was also on top of Rob in more ways than one when it happened. It took Rob a few seconds to figure that one out.

Will, Rob realized. Nice going.

With that, Rob heard a faint chuckle echo through his head.

No problem.

***

Misty felt an invisible weight press against her ever since she gradually woke up. The room smelled very dry, and the bed she lay on felt like the concrete floor. If anything, it appeared to be a prison cell of some kind.

All she could see was the dim gray of the ceiling, but only barely; it was all a sort of blur. She spent hours trying to focus on it - to make the image in her head clearer - but all that amounted to were wasted hours.

Misty knew that it wasn't just the trouble of waking up. It wasn't normal.