Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*

Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks

Chapter 7

“You seem sad.” Red remarked. Lance blinked, balancing three pots of water on his body in an admirable display of acrobatics as he began to walk back to the cave.

“Why would you think that?”

“Your eyes are dull.”

A slow smile spread across his face. He hadn’t known Red was that perceptive. “Maybe I am. Bruno hurt so many pokémon in his battles, and I could not save them all.”

He’d crooned sweet lullabies even as he had slit their throats and sent them to eternal rest. It had hurt, but there was no choice. They were too injured to heal, and they had no longer wished to live.

Still…

There was blood on his hands, and he knew it.

Red winced. “You could ask Yellow to help.” He ventured.

Lance chuckled. “Why won’t she? You would think that for someone who cares so much for pokémon, she would gladly help tend to the injured, but all she does is cling to Misty.”

Red had to admit that it was true.

“Besides.” Lance said quietly, “I doubt she has the power anymore.”

That caught Red’s attention. “What? Why?”

“It’s a secret.” Lance said, and walked into the cave interior. He saw Yellow and Misty engaged in something he would rather not be privy to, on his bed, and he left the cave in disgust.

Ptera bared sharp fangs, but Lance shook his head.

“As much as I would like to, I am afraid our dear Champion would protest.” He found a sunny flat rock to sit on, and began to braid rope.

Red caught up with Lance a few minutes later, carrying a string of shiny silvery fish. Lance smiled at him. The water pokémon that had recovered from Bruno’s battles had quickly purified the stream, and there were plenty of fish for all. Diglett and Dugtrio had brought trees and grass to cover the bloody earth, and all of the pokémon had worked hard to make this area green again.

It was becoming a slice of Paradise…

But Lance knew that he didn’t belong here. If anything, the presence of Misty and Yellow only proved it.

He would leave soon. Perhaps he would head to Cerise Island, and … no. That would be selfish.

He could find another place to stay. There were injured pokémon everywhere, after all, and…

It would never end.

He could see the rest of his life stretched out before him in bleak white loneliness, and he stood. Now that Yellow was here, there was no reason to hang around. He would hardly wish to sleep in that bed again.

Red would love Yellow. Or Misty.

Certainly, the Champion had no further need of his company. Thought in mind, he finished with the few patients he had, and prepared to leave.

Red caught him loading Dragonite with healing supplies. “Lance? Where are you going?”

“Around. There are probably more injured pokémon at Bruno’s stronghold.”

“Oh.” That made sense. The Champion grinned. “Come back soon!”

“I will.” Lance promised, before he took off.

True to his word, he did stop by Bruno’s palace. It was still an impressive marble edifice, but as he walked the halls, he had to shut out the screams of despair and pain and rage that permeated the place.

How could he have stood the atmosphere?

Lance shrugged. He found many pokémon there, huddled in dark corners, and he coaxed them out into the light as he fed them sweet fish and healed their injuries and sent them to the valley.

Soon, the whole world would be pretty and green.

It was a pity he would not be around to see it.

After all, Paradise was too good for him, wasn’t it?

For many months he traveled through the continent, wrapped in smooth white with only his eyes visible. Occasionally, even a legendary would come by and seek healing, and he treated all pokémon the same, never accepting thanks or offers of service.

When it was over, he gazed at the brilliant blue sky in his last stop, Pallet Town, and smiled wistfully.

The forest had burned. Bruno had destroyed the Viridian Forest, so he knew not why he even had power left. Still, the color was as smooth blue as ever, and he was content. He sat by the ocean, listening to the play of water against earth, and felt his dragons calm.

It was almost time…

Red didn’t worry, at first, when Lance didn’t come back immediately. He knew enough about war now, and he was sure there were lots of pokémon out there who needed help. The area around them was lush and green, the water was clear and sparkling, and the weather was pleasant enough, so for a while, he gamboled with the pokémon, wild and trained both, and didn’t fret.

He made fish for the three of them every night, and Yellow and Misty would smile, but there always seemed to be a secret they were keeping from him, and so when he caught them kissing, he wasn’t all that shocked.

It did make him feel a little bit lonely though.

But then months passed and Lance didn’t return. His pokémon would drop by occasionally, to pick up more herbs or cloth, but Lance never came with them. Red didn’t know why, but it made him uneasy.

Still, at least he knew Lance was still working, so he kept his hopes up. Then one day, Ptera and all the rest came home, with sad looks in their eyes.

Red frowned, and he knew before they spoke what had happened.

But he still had to ask.

Yellow found Red sobbing and hugging Lance’s Ptera tightly, and felt a jealous flash of anger for about two seconds, before her conscience tactfully reminded her that she and Misty were lovers and all she felt for Red was friendship.

Still, the idea of Lance and Red being together didn’t sit well with her. Lance was evil. Red deserved better!

“Why?” Red asked. “Why is he dead? Who attacked him?”

Ptera closed his eyes. It was nothing of that sort. Master Lance just couldn’t go on. He was too tired.

Tired? Well of course anyone who spent their waking hours working to help pokémon would be tired, but….

But it wasn’t fair.

His eyes sparkled, and without a word, they led him to where Lance now slept, entombed in clear crystal. Red rested his fingertips against the coffin, and tried to sort through his tangled feelings.

Did he want Lance to wake up and come home? Of course he did, but was he being selfish?

He did have Misty and Yellow for company, and they were his friends too…

But Misty loved Yellow and he was lonely…

So did that mean he loved Lance?

How odd.

End Chapter

Completed 12/31/06

Wow, it’s almost the New Year… *Rings bells*

Red: I’m so confused!
Lance: Well, you’ve never been in love before

Shoyko: *Crying from darkfic vibes*

Phantomness: *Pet*

Lance has serious issues, both with being a drama queen and with guilt.