Author – Chibi / Warlordess

Disclaimer – I don’t own Pokemon or any of its characters; but the plot is mine, mine, mine! And it was influenced by shows such as CSI, Law and Order, and Cold Case. There are more, but I think I’ll just stop here.

Summary – The only witness to the homicide of Rose Williams, the daughter Aurora, eight years old, was relinquished the evidence left behind and told to hide herself away for her own safety. Yet, years later, she was forced to reacquaint herself with her mothers’ murderer with only a few friends at her side. Will they survive? Completely AAMR.

OoOoO

Title – Illicit Saints

Chapter Two

OoO

Characters / Ages

Misty / 17

Ash / 16

Brock / 20

May / 13

OoOoO

It was raining again. The thunder and lightning crashed and crackled around her as her shoes squelched into the softening mud. Her hands were out in front of her holding onto the PokeNav, which was currently scanning the area for May’s Nav I.D. She knew they were around here somewhere. May had told her that. . .

. . .Her thoughts were cut short as she tripped over some anonymous bramble and she fell to the ground, sliding a bit and the mud getting all over her clothes. One of her Pokeballs rolled about five feet away and opened up to reveal her Psyduck, clutching its head glancing up at the ominous skies.

“Psy-ye-ye?” He asked, starting towards Misty, who was attempting to shake off the winded slight of pain she was feeling to reach her feet. Another stroke of thunder and her eyes snapped open, and she twisted her neck so that she was facing her Pokemon.

“Psyduck, go down the road and you’ll find a Pokemon Center. . . Get help from someone?”

“Oh, so the little brat is bleeding and hurt?” Came a snide murmur from the trees. There was a large amount of rustling from beyond the pathway.

“Go!” She shouted and Psyduck, in mid-panic, took off down the road. Then she looked down at herself, quickly sweeping her body for injuries. Her Raticate bite, which had formerly been so close to healing, had been forcibly broken open by the fall.

“Bondt, should we stop the Pokemon before it reaches the Center?” Said a dull, emotionless female voice from a body shrouded in darkness, holding something that looked oddly like a Pokeball.

“Yes, actually. The Center should be quiet now, being as late as it is, so act with stealth; I want this to go as smoothly as possible,” the head Rocket nodded and the female underclassman took off after the fleeing Pokemon.

Misty, half-terrified for herself and half for Psyduck, stared at him defiantly.

“Now, girl, tell us what you’ve done with the bag you were carrying. We know you hid it somewhere and we’re already sweeping the area with some of our soldiers so we’re bound to find it eventually, but,” he stopped for a moment and a wide, flat-lipped smirk spread across his face, “But I thought you’d like to tell us now and save us from the trouble of wasting all of this time. It’s only safe to say that there’s a chance of you living longer if you do comply with our wishes.”

He stepped up to her side, followed closely by a few others, their clothes drenched by the storm, and picked her up from the ground, holding her arms back so that he strained her muscles. Misty gave a tiny groan of pain as he slipped his grip over her Pokemon-inflicted wound.

“Oh, I’m. . . sorry,” he gave a sharp laugh and the others joined in. Misty scowled and gave a half-glare before turning away, unable to think of anything to do. She’d strung up her bad in a tree about three hundred meters back, along with the small box of memorabilia and all but one of her Pokemon, which she’d removed blindly from her things beforehand. And then she’d run as fast as her legs could carry her, her clothes soaked through from the rain, until she’d lost her footing and gotten herself caught.

A sudden rustling signaled a new Rocket teammates’ return and Misty couldn’t help but feel a sudden sense of foreboding, as though she already knew what was coming. The team leader half-threw Misty into another man’s arms and walked over to this new appearance. Words were exchanged and then the Head-Rocket turned around, gripping something in his fist.

“Times up, little girl. We have what we need now and our colleague should be finishing up with that runt of a Pokemon any moment,” suddenly something seemed to start clicking rapidly in Misty’s mind, like a time-bomb just waiting to go off, “I guess now we don’t need you after all, you see?” He held out the familiar red knapsack to show her something along the lines of their “progress”.

That thing that had been ticking inside of her head exploded and the redhead snapped.

“No one,” she took a moment to step on her captor’s foot, “calls me,” she elbowed him in the chest, “or my Pokemon,” she turned around and shoved the man away, “runts!” She pivoted back to her position facing the head. The Rocket member she’d just beaten groaned from his sprawled out place on the ground.

She knew there was nothing left to lose. Her Psyduck was probably, at that very moment, being slaughtered by the female Rocket and these fellow members were through with her. Nothing was going to stop them now – they were sure to kill her any moment. All Misty knew was that she wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Go, Tangela! Restrain her!” A voice called from behind and Misty felt the vines wrap around her arms and waist and legs, pulling her back a mere six inches from the man clutching her back, “Heh heh heh; how unexpected. Boss, why not let me take the first hit?”

The man before Misty gave a snide bark of laughter.

“Why not? She owes it to you after that pitiful attempt at escape.” He started retreating to the back of the group, to a pathway probably leading to the seclusion of their getaway ride, “Just make sure that you let the others have a go. Oh, and. . .” He looked into Misty’s eyes, “. . .Thanks so much for the humble gifts. Giovanni is much appreciative.” He was hidden half in the darkness when some device among the group began to beep and he placed a small box to his lips and began to reply, “. . .Yes?”

All of the Rockets seemed to be focused in silence upon this halt in the situation. One man, it appeared, wanted to be closer and so he stepped around Misty and stood still in front of her, barely breathing. And then he swung around and punched her in the jaw, sending her to the ground. The Pokemon’s vines constricted upon her as she fell, stunned and pained, and a few of the Rockets turned and cheered at the new display.

“You wanted to act selfless, with a soul filled of heroism all of these years, girl? And you decide to defend yourself and your worthless toy-like Pokemon by beating on those who are more than capable of taking care of you!” He was now breathing deeply and seemed, for a moment, to be calming down, “You think that your acts make you above us? Not when it is we, following our leader Giovanni, who are creating a new world order!” He grabbed her by her hair and she spit on him. He threw her back down in disgust and kicked her in the ribs. . . Once, twice. . . That was all she could really keep track of. . . And it made her projectile blood.

Her vision blurred temporarily and she saw the forms of many shadowy faces swimming in and out of her view. They were all laughing brusquely down at her. Misty forced herself up, still willing to fight if that’s what it took.

“Why not just lay down and die!” Screamed one of the swaying figures, and another person knelt down, grabbed her head, and shoved it roughly into the earth, “You’ll be gone from this world sooner or later!”

“—More like later,” it was the group leader again. His tone was different now; it was more gruff and disappointed somehow, “Giovanni wants to meet with her. It seems that she has an interesting relationship to him.”

There was a small chorus of frustrated growls and, among an almost blissful amount of pain, she could feel her body being lifted from the ground. A dull throb resounded somewhere in the back of her head, it hurt to breathe, and the constrictions on her legs, arms, and waist especially seemed to be crushing her bones. A small voice in the back of her mind twitched abruptly into activity.

No; not Giovanni. If I’m anywhere near the end of my life, I don’t want my last visions to be stained with the sights of him. Not the man whose evil blood runs through my veins. . . Misty attempted to fight against Tangela’s hold on her, drawing the attention of the Rocket’s nearest her.

“Look; the little bitch is still hoping to fight, after all of this?” There was a resounding snicker as many of the people around her turned again to watch.

“Blaizekin, use Flame-Wheel on that Tangela! Ivysaur, use Vine Whip to pull Misty over here!” A female voice shouted. Misty suddenly felt rather hot for a moment before gravity began taking over, dragging her to the damp forest floor. The fall was stopped short by a tangle of new vines wrapping around her and pulling her in some certain direction, “Oh, god – Misty. . . !”

“Pikachu, Thunderbolt on those Team Rocket members; Swellow, catch Misty’s bag!” A more familiar voice said, and thundering footsteps echoed in her now rattled mind as two mately faces swooped down upon her, “Misty, a-are you okay. . . ?”

The redhead attempted to respond but her mouth didn’t seem to want to move. A third face came into view and Brock’s brotherly expression replaced Ash and May’s.

“What did they think they were going to do! Kill her!” May shrieked, her auburn locks limp with rain water as she stared, terrified, at her apparently petrified friend. Brock inspected the older girl and gave a very quick assumption. Misty felt the want to roll her eyes.

“By the look of it. . .” Brock gulped and looked at the Petalburg native with something closely related to terror on his face, “Yea. . .”

Ash’s expression, formerly one filled with an insane amount of worry at his friends condition, changed to one of hatred as he looked up at May, who nodded. They both reached their feet and ran forward to their Pokemon, who were now awaiting new commands. Ash retrieved the red bag from Swellow’s feet and he and May began shouting attacks.

“Blaizekin, Fire Spin! Ivysaur, Solar Beam!”

“Pikachu, Thunder! Swellow, Steel Wing!”

The Pokemon followed through with these instructions immediately, at some point causing a random chemical reaction that sent many of the Team Rocket members into the air. Their screams somehow helped Misty understand that she was safe, and pale, dream-like clouds began to replace her formerly clear vision. The last thing she remembered was Brock’s reassuring statement.

“You’re going to be okay now, Misty. . . Don’t worry. . .”

OoO

At first, she thought that she was still outside. She could hear the crash of thunder, and the pounding of rain against some form of steel. She could also feel drops of the liquid against her forehead. But then, there were the voices, and the rag that someone was draping over her face, wiping it clean.

Her eyes snapped open and Misty jumped up into a sitting position, groaning in pain and causing the person who’d been beside her to fall backward with a yelp.

“Ow. . . Ugh, w-what’s going on. . . ?” She blinked rapidly a few times against the light and her view became slowly clearer, “Where am I. . . ?”

“Oh, uh, Misty. . . You’re at the Rustboro Pokemon Center.” Came a new, lonesome voice from a few feet away, “Your friends brought you here after you collapsed outside of town. You’ve been here for a few hours now.” Nurse Joy answered the girls’ unasked question and handed her the rag she’d been using to towel her dry.

“But. . . I heard you talking to someone. Who--?” She couldn’t help being suspicious at this point. . .

“Your friends are intent on seeing you. But I wanted you to get as much sleep as possible for now, what with the injuries you sustained. They’re not serious!” The nurse added quickly, “But I am going to strongly recommend bed-rest for the next few days.” Misty knew that ‘strongly’, in this case, meant that there was absolutely no chance of her getting outside for at least half of a week.

“Well, c-can I at least see my friends now that I’m up?” Misty pleaded, ignoring the almost involuntary flinch that followed suit by the movement.

“Hmm. . . I guess it would be a good idea. I’m sure you have as many questions for them as they have for you,” Joy nodded, looking almost uncharacteristically stern, before walking out the door, leaving it open for Ash, May, Brock, and Pikachu to dash inside, Psyduck waddling slowly afterward and settling itself just beyond the door, which closed automatically on its tail, making him squawk in pain and scamper behind May’s leg.

“Thank goodness you’re okay, Misty!” The younger girl cried, looking unbelievably close to tears, “W-we were all so worried about you, especially after you lost consciousness!”

Misty couldn’t help but feel flattered by May’s sympathy since they didn’t know each other that well to begin with.

“Yea, you really had us going there for awhile. . .” Brock continued, laughing weakly with relief, “I’ve never known Team Rocket to be so worked up about a few Pokemon before.”

Ash, who’d sat down in the only available seat upon entering the ward, as though he’d collapse otherwise, wasn’t looking at any of them. Rather, his face was leaning towards the ground and he was clutching the edges of his seat in a sense of silent fury.

He spoke without warning, “But then, no Pokemon is worth killing the trainer over, right? They must have wanted you for something else. . . I-I mean, they bruised two of your ribs, for God’s sakes!” His fury seemed to visibly boil atop his head at this point.

“Actually, you’re right, Ash. . .” He chose this moment to look up just in time for Misty to turn away. The tension thickened to something five times as strong, “My Pokemon and I didn’t have something that could so thoroughly destroy them.” Looking up, Misty noticed the three friends’ reactions, “Um. . . Where’s my bag?” She asked.

Brock stood fully, “Nurse Joy was checking your Pokemon so we left it with her. I’ll go get it.” And he took off out the door.

“Oh; also. . .” May rummaged in her phanny-pack, removing a grimy Pokeball from within, “We tried calling Psyduck back but he kept running around the retrieval beam. I guess he wanted to be sure that you were okay.” She handed the capturing device to Misty, who held it in her hand, looking down at her Pokemon. Psyduck stared back with its blank expression, tipping its head sideways. Misty smiled at him to show her thanks.

“I guess that I owe everyone a lot for what happened back there,” Misty attempted to stretch her arms but gingerly retracted them from the pain, “Especially you two.” She nodded towards Ash and May, hoping they’d grin back at her and they could all start to move on, but the two of them gave the tiniest fraction of a glance at each other, seemingly deciding something, before turning back intently to face her.

“You wanna make it up to us? Tell us what’s been going on with you over all this time, and why Team Rocket needs to get rid of you.” Ash stated quietly, looking somehow mature.

Brock entered the room again and handed Misty’s bag back to her before he bothered to notice the stiff silence between the three teenagers.

“Uh, did I miss something. . . ?” He asked.

“You’re just in time to get some answers, actually.” Ash replied with simplicity, “I think we deserve them.” His expression was rather cold, as though he knew already of the countless things Misty was hiding from him. And he looked hurt by the knowledge of her apparent lies.

“Hey, it’s not like I wanted to walk around all my life and keep things from my friends! You’re making it sound as though I enjoyed it!” Misty shouted, her voice suddenly able to reach its greatest heights, “My mother tried to take down Team Rocket single-handed, and that got her killed! Now I’m completing that mission that she created for herself! I’m keeping Team Rocket from taking over the world!”

This expression seemed to have a massive effect on her audience. Brock, not having been there before, was still sporting signs of overall confusion on his face. May, young though she was, was holding Pikachu to her, overcome with sympathy. Ash still looked disbelieving and defiant, but he did have the grace to feel slightly guilty.

“Just what the heck are you talking about, Misty?”

“I’m – I’m talking about. . . My mom, and how she was a member of Team Rocket. When she found out that she was pregnant with me, she tried to get out, to get away from the organization, but they wouldn’t let her leave because of her strengths. . . I – I don’t really know much else. . . I remember, on my eighth birthday, Team Rocket attacked my mom. They killed her with an experimental version of their greatest weapon. Something called an ‘EAB’.” Misty rummaged around in her things, soon after removing the all too familiar, small, dark box which contained Team Rocket’s desires, “In here is. . . a disc. Formatted into that disc is the planning procedure for the ‘EAB.’”

“. . .Well, what is the ‘EAB’? What’s it made to do? Why didn’t your mom turn it in when she had the chance?” Brock asked.

“I don’t know what the ‘E’ and ‘A’ stand for, but it’s a bullet t-that causes about a hundred times the average amount of pain. . . Or, at least, the trial one did. . . My mom actually peeled the bullet from her chest and. . . and handed it to me before saying goodbye and moving on. . .” Misty took a moment to sniffle, tears forming in her eyes, “. . .I guess that neither the plans or experimental version had Team Rocket’s trademark on it, which would be the only thing linking them to the production. After all, the leader Giovanni couldn’t own up to being involved with. . . something else than perfect. . .” She spat bitterly.

“You’re not telling us something; I can tell. . .” May started, “Did you do something with the bullet? And what’s Team Rocket planning to do with you after they get what they want?”

“I. . . I hid it. . . Somewhere that Team Rocket, hopefully, won’t figure to look. And I’d rather not tell you because. . . It’s not in a place I like to brag about putting my hands.” Misty ignored her three companions expressions of half-fear and disgust, “And. . . Team Rocket normally intended to kill me. . . But it seems that they’ve got new orders. Giovanni wants to meet me. . .”

“Meet you? Why?”

“Well, uh, it could be that he might want to torture me for what my mom did, taking that disc, or it could be that he’s curious of how I’ve evaded him and his troops for so long; there’s a chance that he hoped to interrogate me about you, Ash, since you always put a damper in his plans. . . or it could have to do with the fact that I’m his daughter. . .” She finished in a mutter.

There was a vast silence, followed by the obviously delayed response, “What!”

“It. . . I was the outcome of months. . . or years. . . or rape. I found out recently that Giovanni called my mom to him as his subject often enough, and he turned her into his personal whore. . .” Misty glanced pointedly at May, wondering if she could possibly be old enough to take such a story at this point, “I don’t know what he wants from me, but he interrupted his followers’ in the middle of their beating me to death; I guess I should be grateful for that.”

“Grateful! He probably wants to tell you that you’re the rightful heir to the Rocket thieving empire! That’s not something to be grateful for!” Ash shouted, “I can’t – I just don’t – don’t get me wrong, Misty. I’m sorry for all of this that’s happened to you, I really am. But I can’t help thinking that the only reason you’re here is that you’re seeking some sort of comforting protection. I’m your friend, we all are, but I don’t think any of us like being used.”

Misty could feel a strong anger brewing within her at Ash’s words. She’d never known him to be so misunderstanding before now. She knew that he, May, and Brock would probably be a little conscious about the whole situation, being as dangerous as it was, but how could Ash think that her ability to rely on him meant that she was so clearly taking advantage of their friendship?

“You’re such an. . .” Misty began, but she was interrupted.

“. . .Idiot!” May said, shocking all of them, including herself, “You really think that Misty would come here for our help with now sense of guilt in her mind? For almost ten years, half of which she traveled with you, she’s had to harbor this secret. She’s had to look over her shoulder with every turn she’s made, because there’s a chance that some Team Rocket trainer is going to come after her. She’s kept this all from you and Brock and all her other friends in hopes of keeping you safe from people who are obviously okay with killing!” May took a deep breath and stared at the raven-haired boy as though his forthcoming reaction would fuel her onwards, “How could you possibly confuse that level of selflessness with something like usance!”

“I – I didn’t mean. . . Well, I did, but. . .” Ash sighed, unable to come up with an excuse, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Maybe it’s the stress of seeing you beaten half to death getting to me, but I can’t help wondering if this is just a bit bigger that us. It’s not that I don’t care; it’s just that I’m worried. Maybe it’s time for us to learn to look before we leap.”

Misty noticed that she wasn’t the only one to roll her eyes at that comment.

“Hey, Ash. . . ?” She started innocently in reply, “How many cliffs have you jumped over, and how many raging rivers have you thrown yourself into, while I’ve been gone?” The sarcasm in her tone was quite evident.

Ash responded with a sheepish ‘heh’ just as the clock on the wall chimed for the hour of midnight.

“Hmm. . .” Brock started, “Maybe we should head for bed now? I’ve already reserved us a room here at the Center, and it’s getting pretty late.”

“Well, it’s not like we’ve got anywhere to go for the next few days, since Misty’s going to be needing that extra rest to get her health back up. And maybe she wants to know how we found out about her being here,” May said.

“Wait; wasn’t it Psyduck who made you follow out onto the path?” Misty questioned, her brow creasing, “I mean, I know that it was late, so how else would you have known that I needed your help?”

“Oh, well, uh, I guess that we can all thank Jessie, James, and Meowth for that. It may have been late, and the Center may have been closing, but those three seem to think that they’re the masters of stealth. They tried another one of their infamous attacks. . .” Brock massaged his chin.

OoO

“Jessie, how many times are we going to try this tactic? It’s getting older than the ‘shoveling-a-very-deep-hole, covering-it-with-branches-and-brambles, and-hope-the-twerps-fall-into-it’ plan. . . !”James whined, his hands groping his stomach, “And I’m hungry!”

“Ugh, James, when are you going to learn that it’s not all about you? And this strategy is totally different from the last one! Last time we tried this and got closest to success, we used Victreebell to try and keep the Twerps asleep with ‘Sleep Powder’, and they still ended up kicking our butts! But. . .” Jessie gave a slightly deviant laugh, “This time we’ve got something far better than that! Show him, Meowth!”

“Right, Jessie!” Meowth pulled a sleek silver suitcase out of nowhere and plucked open the snap-locks to reveal three human-sized headsets and a single small Pokemon piece, “One hundred percent soundproof, steal and foam-padded for comfort and security, perfect for Team Rocket Pokemon thieving in the dead of night!”

“Yea, now our only issue would be how we’re going to put them over the brats’ heads without them waking up in the process. . .” Jessie replied, opening another of the many doors leading to the rooms they were searching through, looking inside, shutting it again, and moving on to the next one.

Meowth sighed and whispered into James’ ear, “We’s never seem to think these things through, does we?”

In the process of opening another foor, Jessie turned and screeched at her teammates, “What was that!” And, in her might, caused the door to crash open completely.

There was some muffled rummaging inside and then May slowly rose from under the blankets.

“W. . . What’s going on. . . ?” She rubbed at her sleep-filled eyes and blinked them open again just in time to see Team Rocket’s frame against the hallway’s light, “Wah!” She threw the covers over her head.

“Wah!” Team Rocket replied.

“Wah!” May said again, “Ash, Brock, Pikachu – wake up! It’s Team Rocket!” Her shout caused a short storm of groaning and snoring before Ash replied sleepily.

“May, w-what is it you’re yelling about. . . ?”

“Jessie, James, and Meowth! Team Rocket’s at our door!”

“What!” Brock yelled, leaping out of bed. Ash followed suit, shaking Pikachu awake as well.

“Pikachu, use—“ Ash started, but Jessie, James, and Meowth were already dashing, panicked, down the hallway and towards the front of the building, “Hey, come back here, Team Rocket!” And he and the others grabbed their Pokeballs and went after them.

“Oh, no, Jessie. . . ! The door’s locked!” James said as he tried unsuccessfully to crash through it.

“No, really? Why else did we get in through the ventilation. . . duct. . .” Jessie replied, ending in a tense murmur, “Oh, no!” And she grabbed her teammates by the scruffs of their necks, turned around, and came face-to-face with Ash, May, and Brock, all looking a bit peeved about their disturbed night of rest, “Eh heh, heh, heh. . .” The trio inched around slowly and inconspicuously to face the swinging doors again, silently feeling them up for an escape route, “. . .You know, Twerps, w-we haven’t had a c-chance to steal anything yet, s-so. . . technically speaking, you really have no l-legal rights to send us packing. . .”

“Oh, yeah? Well your intentions lead us to believe otherwise!” Brock said, “Crobat, go! Use—“

“Wait. . . What’s dat?” Meowth interrupted, staring outside with squinted eyes (Brock: “Stop mocking me!”) since the humidity and rain was fogging up the glass, “Is dat a. . . Psyduck? In da Hoenn Region?”

“Who cares? Pikachu, use ‘Iron Tail!’”

“Crobat, ‘Psybeam!’”

The combined attacks busted Team Rocket through the doors and into the bushes.

“Knowing da irony of dis show, we’ll end up payin’ for da damages, won’t we?” Meowth stated miserably as the Pokemon group followed after the thieving team and readied their Pokemon for the final blasting off.

Then, just as Pikachu’s cheeks started crackling in strength, the Psyduck waddled between the electric mouse and the fallen cronies.

“W-what do you suppose that Pokemon’s doing, Brock. . . ?” May asked, confused at the water creature’s position, “Is Psyduck a member of Team Rocket?”

Pikachu, also caught off guard by the Pokemon’s move, accidentally let loose a bit of stored up electricity, catching Team Rocket so that they ended up giving a chorus of shrieks as they writhed about on the ground. Psyduck suddenly went into a frenzy and started running around May’s ankles, before circling around Jessie.

“How can we tell what he’s saying?” May asked. Jessie tore from the ground, dragging Meowth with her.

“If you don’t blast us off, we’ll have our feline translate for you. . .” She said very sweetly.

“Hey; don’t exploit da Top-Cat’s talents!” Meowth tried to escape the young woman’s grip. The two began arguing ferociously, but were interrupted by a broad crowing from the duck-like Pokemon.

“Psy-ye-ye, Psyduck!”

Meowth crossed his arms and turned away, refusing to do anything. . . Until Jessie’s glare changed his mind.

“What. . . Did. . . He. . . Say?” The violet-haired girl prodded the cat in the ears, making him shudder at the sensitivity, “You’re saving. . . Me from. . . An angry. . . Retribution. . .” These words seemed to catch the feline’s attention.

“Haaeehh. . .” He sighed, “He says dat. . . He wants peanut butter.”

“I can’t believe that Psyduck was making all of that noise just to say. . .” May started, but Psyduck interrupted with an affirmative quack of glee, “Okay, then. . .”

“Psyduck duck psy-ye Psyduck duck.”

“Oh, also, somedin’ about a Rocket executive trying to broil him.” The cat finished, as some fanatical woman in black came crashing through the trees.

“There you are, you litte—“

“Pikachu, ‘Thunder!’”

Feet from Psyduck, the Rocket lady felt the head-on infliction of the lightning attack. The force of the technique sent her flying backwards and into Jessie, James, and Meowth. The whole lot of them ended up shooting into the sky.

“Oops. . .” Ash muttered sheepishly as he, May, and Brock watched them go/ Then, as one, the group looked down at the Psyduck again, who was staring listlessly up at them as though waiting for something. “. . .You know, Brock, I’ve gotta admit that he looks familiar. . .” Ash knelt to the Pokemon’s level and inspected him closely, “In fact, I’ve only seen one Psyduck with an expression that dumb. You don’t think. . . that Misty’s close-by, do you?” The younger boy looked up at his oldest friend but he shot back around almost immediately because the duck had taken off back in the direction he’d first come, squawking animatedly, “. . .We should follow after him, just in case something’s wrong.” Ash reached his feet again and he and the others rushed off into the woods.

OoO

“. . .Huh. . .” Misty said, patting her Psyduck on the head, “I guess I owe it to give him that peanut butter.” Her Pokemon looked up with a surprisingly hopeful expression on his face, “But it’s going to be kinda hard to do that from here. Nurse Joy’s got me bed-ridden for almost a week, at least. I guess that that means our shopping trip with have to wait; sorry, May.”

“As if you should apologize! Besides, maybe this is a good thing! It gives you and me a chance to get better acquainted with one another; and for all of us to try and come up with a plan.” May looked to Ash and Brock, who both nodded in agreement.

“In any case, we’re going to have to move you to our bedroom in a few hours. This room is usually reserved for seriously injured Pokemon. Nurse Joy’s going to need it back,” Brock stated affectionately at the mention of the lovely attendant, “So we’ll let you get some rest for now and then we’ll come back and help you out of here. Be sure to walk as slowly as possible ‘cause it might be awhile before you see anything other than a certain set of four walls.”

“Yea. . .” Misty yawned, “I guess that I’d better drop off for now, then. . . Erm, see you later, guys.” She gave them all a wide smile and they returned it before waving and beginning to walk out the door.

Now finally alone, Misty called back Psyduck into his Pokeball, placed it at her side, and collapsed back onto the pillows behind her. Truth be told, she wasn’t nearly as tired as she thought she’d be. There was too much going on at this point.

Why? Why, after all of this time, did Giovanni want to meet her? He’s spent so many years hoping to catch her mother, and three different squads had already attempted to take her out permanently. All of a sudden, he wanted a reunion? It took Misty almost ten minutes of wondering how she’d react upon meeting him before she finally remembered that she wasn’t going to.

After all, as Brock had said earlier, she was safe.

But. . . What about Ash? She thought, a wave of doubt sweeping over her. Ash was her greatest ally among all of her friends; if he wasn’t sure about her and this entire situation, then how could she truly depend on any of them? Misty knew that he’d said it was just the panic of seeing her so battered that made him think that way, and she was flattered. . . But she knew that wasn’t true. Ash was just making excuses again. After all, hadn’t he acknowledged the fact that this entire thing was bigger than all of them?

It was amazing that, while Misty could know she was surrounded by friends who’d never abandon her, she could still feel so wholly unsafe. For a distinct moment, she even actually considered making a run for it, and leaving everything here behind and forgetting she’d ever found Ash, and Brock again.

But she could never do that.

She knew that, though he may not have sounded that way, Ash cared enough about her to travel around the world just to find her again, even if it meant putting his dream on hold. And Misty knew that, at this point, he was already giving up enough for her.

Suddenly, the weight of simplicity towards their other, “Hello’s”, and, “Goodbye’s”, seemed so much more apparent. She’d certainly made an impression on them all this time around, but it wasn’t the one she was hoping for. She could only wonder if she’d have the chance to try it again.

And with that thought, Misty felt herself falling into what would be a dreamless sleep.

OoO

“Er. . . Misty?” The voice questioned, gently massaging her shoulder so as not to hurt her, “It’s almost ten in the morning. We have to move you so that Nurse Joy can sterilize the room and have it ready for and of the badly hurt Pokemon that could be coming in later today.” Misty could now distinguish May’s face above her as she blinked the sleep away, “I’m gonna help you into our room ‘cause Ash and Brock are doing. . . something. . .” She ended mysteriously.

“O-okay. . .” Misty yawned and began to arch her back into a sitting position, but she moved too quickly and ended up flinching against the wall behind her, which only intensified the pain, “Ugh. . .”

May smiled sadly at her in sympathy before holding out a hand to help the redhead back up. Once Misty had forced herself forward and almost off of the bed, May’s one arm snaked itself under her shoulder and around her back while the other curled itself on the Cerulean native’s abdomen. And, for the first time since gaining her injuries, Misty stood on her own two feet.

The pain was so agonizing that she almost crumpled to the floor in a heap. The only thing that kept her standing through it all was May’s arms around her.

The white-hot fire burning beneath her flesh was so pure, so instant, that she could hardly breathe. Her heart beat so strongly that she could feel the blood pounding in her ears, and her nerves seemed completely shot; every length of her was trembling. May, knowing that it would probably irritate her, chose not to look her way, but, with a resolute expression on her face, strengthened her hold and took a cautious step forward, leaving the pain to grow even stronger.

It was a very slow and steady walk to the room Brock had rented them and Misty had to stop for a moment at least twice. By the time she’d been eased onto the bottom bunk she’d be sharing with May, both girls were out of breath.

“Oh. . .” May undid the zipper to her bag and withdrew a couple of hospital-like serving packets and a spoon, “It’s peanut butter; for Psyduck.”

“Er, thanks,” Misty replied, taking them into her hands. It wasn’t much, but she knew that her Pokemon would be eager for the prize just the same, “So, what’s keeping Ash and Brock so busy?” Her question was asked just in time for the two boys to come traipsing through the door.

“May. . . !” Ash whined, “How could you leave us hanging down in the cafeteria with those one thousand packs of peanut butter you bought!” Ash stated, and Misty saw that his arms were loaded down with said condiment, “Oh, hi, Misty,” he finished lamely.

“Idiot. . .” She murmured in reply, hoping that her expression wasn’t too disappointedly looking at the carelessness on his face as he greeted her, and she turned her nose up before glancing at May again, “You bought all of that for Psyduck on your own?”

May obviously thought this funny because she chose to laugh, “Of course! He kinda saved your life, didn’t he? Shouldn’t he get the one thing he wants in return for that? And don’t say I didn’t help! I carried two of them up here! And I got Misty moved into our room all on my own!”

“Yea, probably. . . But why didn’t they help out?” Misty jerked her head in the direction of Ash and Brock and ignoring May’s second half of her statement, “Come to think of it, why didn’t I help out? You should have told me that you planned to do something like that; I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t have helped reward my own Pokemon. . .”

May, looking slightly bashful, said, “Okay, answering those in chronological order; Ash didn’t help because he spent all of his pre-noon earnings on breakfast, Brock didn’t help out because he spent all of his earnings on six rose bouquets for Nurse Joy, and you didn’t help because, as you said, we didn’t tell you. And we didn’t tell you because you weren’t supposed to find out that I’d ended up buying it all myself.” May took in some oxygen and then gave a quick half-glare at Ash for his having blurted that information out.

“Well, how much did it cost? I’ll pay for half of it, at least,” Misty said, leaning down to retrieve some cash from her bag, flinching, sitting straight again, and waiting for May to hand it to her.

“Well, it’s one thousand packets, and they’re twenty-five cents each, so. . .” May took a moment to do the math, “Two hundred and fifty dollars, divide by two. . . One hundred and twenty-five dollars. But if you try to help pay for it, I’ll burn the money you give me. I did this because Psyduck deserves it, and because you’re my friend. And a friendship doesn’t revolve around what two people give each other. You don’t have to pay me back.” She ended simply, leaving Misty almost speechless with gratitude.

“Th-thanks. . .” Trying to avoid the satisfied expression on the auburn-haired girls’ face, she turned back to Ash and Brock, who were hurriedly depositing the peanut butter packets into an empty dresser drawer, “Do you guys think you could leave for a bit? I kinda wanted to get cleaned up. . .”

“Maybe it’s better that you don’t.” Brock stated in a parent-like tone, as Misty, who almost seemed to enjoy the pain she put herself through, began to move into a better position on the bed, “I mean, really, is it worth making your injuries worse?”

“Brock,” Misty started skeptically, “My hair is practically stiff from caked mud, my clothes are like plaster to my skin, and I have blood from my cuts and things all over the place. Plus, I need to change the bandages on my arm, or else it could get infected. Now, which sounds worse to you? A horrible and possibly life threatening infection in my bloodstream, or a bit of pain from my current injuries just on the way to the bathroom?” She stopped speaking and continued to rise to her feet, “Besides, maybe a good, hot bath is exactly what I need.”

It took a minute for anyone to respond, but then. . .

“I’m with her,” May stated almost immediately, and she began to rush forward to shoo Ash and Brock from the room, “Now, don’t worry. I’ll make sure that she makes it through the morning alive and well and without running off on us; okay?”

The two boys barely got a word in before she shut the door on them, turned around, and sighed.

“Thanks for that,” Misty offered after May recovered from the waver, and the younger girl moved forward to help the older into the bathing extension, “This should be – Ow! – nice. . .” Misty ended in a grunt as May helped her sit on the toilet seat and turned to the faucets to adjust the water to the right temperature.

After she was done, the coordinator returned to Misty’s front and helped strip her of her clothes and self-applied bandages, which was hard to do, considering that every part of the redhead was either stiff or so pained that she repeatedly curled into a fetal position at the contractions. Misty kept grinding her teeth and digging her nails into untarnished parts of her flesh as though hoping to lessen the extremities of her various aches.

“You might not want to do that,” May said with a pointed gaze at the currently self-inflicted injuries, “It’ll most likely roughen your road to recovery.” And she helped the older girl hopscotch her way over to the tub and raise her foot over the cool plaster rim before allowing her to collapse into the rather hot water and settle herself in.

Misty hissed at the delicacy of her nerves as the liquid around her sloshed against her wounds and ground against her skin. She closed her eyes and breathed through her flaring nostrils as May watched her anxiously, pulling off her training gloves, gripping a washcloth and soap, and lathering it up to apply it to Misty’s body. Feeling just a bit embarrassed, May handed the towel to Misty so that she could clean herself the best that was possible in her condition.

“Er. . . Thanks,” Misty said, also turning slightly red and moving across her face, neck, and shoulders, and refraining from flinching. When she held out the arm that had been bitten by Raticate, scabbed and torn open twice afterward, however, she found that she couldn’t help it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything look so. . . bad,” May murmured for lack of a better word, “I don’t think you told us about how you got that, though. I mean. . . it’s obvious that it wasn’t from last night.” She accepted the cloth again and began to clean off Misty’s back, which had bruised along with her wrists and ankles from the Tangela’s grip, and which also withheld a nice amount of scratches from being dragged and shoved along the ground. There was a possibility that some were even caused by her napping in the trees every night for almost two weeks (minus the day she spent at Petalburg Gym).

“Well, it’s a pretty. . . adult-worthy story; and Ash looked ready to wring a few necks with just what I’d said last night. If I told him. . .” Misty broke off here and choked back something along the lines of a sob, “. . .And the rest of you what almost happened to me back there at the gym. . .”

“And what would that be?” May’s tone was now not only sympathetic and caring, but stern as she removed the shower nozzle and reset the water to a comfortable temperature, made sure that the air pressure in the snout was low, and began to run it through Misty’s tangled locks of ginger hair.

“I don’t think it’d do you any good to know. All I can say is that Team Rocket found me there, and the main leaders’ Raticate made his way to my arm, and. . . if it weren’t for my Gyarados, I’d have been hurt in a lot more ways than one. . .”

May, who seemed to know immediately what she meant, dropped the shower spout into the tub of now draining water.

“You don’t mean—“ A knock at the closed bathroom door signified that Ash or Brock, in their impatience, had come to call.

“Hey, Misty!” It was Ash. “Um, Brock and I got you something to eat for when you’re done in there.” His tone lingered slightly, making it know that he wasn’t finished, “And, you know, I was wondering. . . Well, I mean, you aren’t using it, so. . .”

“Spit it out, Ash!” Misty shouted in irritation, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed her anxiety and embarrassment at the thought that the door she was currently staring at was the only thing preventing her best friend from seeing her entire self.

“. . .I was just hoping I could tinker with your PokeNav. Please? I won’t break it, and I can exchange the identification number we gave you over the communicator with your own, so that you won’t have to worry about it, you know?” He sounded almost exactly like a young child hoping to convince his mom to buy him a new toy by giving her a list of the pro’s included with owning that toy.

Misty and May quirked their eyebrows at one another, their thoughts exactly the same; how could someone who sounded like that possibly be sixteen years old? Misty then sighed in resignation and replied.

“Sure; whatever. Just do me one other favor while you’re at it. . .”

“And what’s that?”

“NEVER INTRUDE ON ME WHEN I’M IN THE BATHROOM, YOU PERVERT! EVER AGAIN! NOW GET AWAY FROM HERE!” Had she not been feeling so nauseous, she probably would have whipped something on, pulled out one of her standard mallets, and chased him away manually, but there was nothing for it. She was having difficulty trying to catch her breath because every intake was strenuous and painful.

There was the sound of a door slamming shut (that belonging to the bedroom entrance from the hallway) and then it was just her and May again, who was still staring at her with a wide range of emotions on her face; sympathy, pity, affection, worry, and, just barely evident, anger.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been so insulted.”

“Excuse me?” Misty questioned, not understanding what May meant by her statement, but she continued as though she hadn’t been interrupted.

“Well, I mean, sure, we haven’t been friends for years, but I’d have thought that, after all you’d been through, you’d know who you can trust; who you can tell the whole story to. You know, I’m not the only one who should know all of this. Maybe you didn’t realize yesterday, but Brock and, especially, Ash were terrified with worry about what happened to you. It’s not much of a way to repay them, or me, keeping secrets like that, no matter how irrelevant you may find them.”

“I’m. . . sorry. But I just. . . The only reason I didn’t mention it is because. . . it’s something a bit too mature for everyday discussion, even after all that I said. And, well. . .” Misty gave May a look that the younger girl knew, recognized, and understood.

“I wish that everyone would stop doing that!” She replied indignantly, “I mean, I know I’m not legally of age, but you can’t deny that I’m probably more mature than Ash half of the time! And you shouldn’t stop yourself from telling us about these things just because you’re a little uncomfortable with me—“

“—It’s not just you, okay! Yes, I won’t deny that I’d like to keep certain things from you because you’re younger than the rest of us, but we’re also talking about rape, or attempted rape, or whatever!” There was frustration in the redhead’s tone as she said this, “How can you expect me to – to come out with something like that! What makes you think that it’s so easy for me to say or describe what that man. . . almost did to me!” By now, her voice was no more than a wavering murmur. Her shoulders shook with sobs that did all but lessen the fiery burn of her injuries.

“I didn’t. . . I’m. . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. . . I know that it’s rough to talk about these horrible things, and to let yourself go, but I can only imagine that it should help you – the way you’re feeling.” The awkward position the two girls sat in was punctured only by the subsiding gasps and cries that Misty unleashed into the despairing atmosphere.

The redhead wouldn’t admit it just then, but she knew that May was right. There was no way that she’d ever forget what had happened at the Cerulean Gym, but talking about it to someone she knew that she could trust, someone such as a personal confidante, was bound to ease the proper existence of what could become an obsession of the things that could have been.

“Now I think that we’ve had enough crying for now, at least, so let’s hurry and get to washing your hair before that food Ash brought you gets too cold,” May said with as much appeasing enthusiasm as she could muster and Misty smiled softly in reply.

“Yea; and if he didn’t put any peppers or carrots on my plate just to spite me, make sure to remind me to thank him for that the next time I see him.”

“Gotcha,” May replied, not fully understanding.

OoO

The next week was dedicated almost wholly to Misty’s recovery and, to be frank, she was pleased to be getting along quite well. It was true that, though her friends usually tried to usher her into bed at the notice of any ginger movement she made, she was up and out of her bed more often every day. She’d sometimes vanish without the slightest trace, making Ash, Brock, and May worry, only to be found up to an hour later, washing Psyduck free of peanut butter remains around his beak and arms, or else in the park fifteen a quarter of a mile away, hoping to catch a bit of sunlight before she was chased back to and within the PokeCenter.

Because Misty’s health had become as important as something under national security, it was soon to be made a rule that she should be accompanied by at least one of them at all times that she was outside.

Each one of her friends left a different type of imprint during their walks with her.

May’s following her usually meant a trip to the beach or the mall, where the Petalburg girl would spend the afternoon picking out clothes for Misty to try on and then squeal almost too wildly when the redhead came out wearing them. Because of this reaction, the two girls had been kicked out of at least three department stores by security, thanks to May’s sounding like a loose cannon fire alarm and her upsetting nearby children.

Brock’s behavior was so brotherly, it often made Misty long to hang herself. Not only did he carry a large first-aid kit with him wherever they went, but when she chose to sigh exasperatedly at his actions, he automatically took it as a moan of fatigue and forced her to sit on whatever the nearest sturdy surface happened to be, which usually resulted in him wrestling her onto a garden-wall fence.

Meanwhile, Ash’s accompanying Misty was a type of embarrassment in itself. Though he didn’t act it in front of May or Brock, he was still feeling highly guilty about his outburst the night Misty returned in which he’d mentioned how little he could possibly trust in her. His sideways glances in her direction annoyed her, but it also touched her so greatly to see him feeling this way that she wasn’t fond of shouting at him to quit it. It was something of a spectacle, therefore, to watch the two furiously awkward teenagers leave together in a stiff silence and then return hours later, just the same.

In the end, it frustrated Misty so much that, at the merest mention of the world beyond the Pokemon Center, she maintained a resolve strong enough to carry her to the bedroom she’d been forced to occupy her entire first week back with her friends. Hoping so strongly to be ignored, Misty locked the door for hours at a time and whiled away those excruciatingly long days counting the tiles of the ceiling or the smudges on the window panes…

The fact that Ash and May’s journey was temporarily shot left Misty with enough painstakingly lonesome time to herself so that she’d finally been able to tend to her afflictions in the appropriate manner. Almost two weeks after her return, she’d reduced the once-horrible scabbing and bleeding Raticate wound to a mere shallow scar. Her other bruises and scratches had become small pale inflictions upon her peachy flesh. Her ribs, though still tender, only ached when strenuously overworked. Almost completely healed and with a great amount of Pokemon able and at her disposal, she hoped that her friends would stop with their insanely overbearing attempts to keep watch over her, but it was no good.

So, day by day, she was made to undergo secure visual contact and a childish sense of lockdown.

The only upside to this situation (if you could call it that) was that, while flanked by the shadows of Ash, Brock, and May, Misty was still able to keep her thoughts to herself and so she was able to think freely about the many inconsistencies of her life while everyone else was none the wiser. She often wondered about her father, Giovanni, and his evil organization, and why he hadn’t sent a new team to retrieve her. After all, there was no doubt in her mind that the last one that had been defeated by Ash and May had survived and, having caused Misty such injuries, had gone to tell her father of how they’d weakened her.

Not wanting to linger on the possibilities of Giovanni’s revenge for long, she’d then begin to speculate about Daisy, Lily, and Violet; about how the youngest two of the surrogate relatives were hating her more for the trouble she caused them, and about how Daisy, in exasperation, would attempt to quell their rants of personal war against her.

Of course she wouldn’t want to think of that for long either, and so, with nothing else to distract her, she had only thoughts of her mother to turn to now. Back in Cerulean, before she’d made off to the Hoenn region so that she could find Ash, Misty had given a trustworthy Pidgeotto a letter to give to her sisters. Because the carrier bird didn’t know what the eldest one looked like, she’d shown him a picture of her so that he could distinguish her from the crowd. But there had been another picture there.

It was one that she hardly ever dare to look at, not because it could have betrayed her former identity, but because looking at it brought about the swift impact of lack of remembrance. The single face of a lovely young woman, her mother, staring back at her from the depths of her still, two-dimensional pose; well, it hurt to wonder about it, the fact that she couldn’t remember for the life of her anything about the woman who brought her into the world to begin with.

OoO

Finally the knowledge that Ash, May, and Brock had been staying at the Rustboro Pokemon Center for over two weeks seemed to hit them with enough force for them to come to understand that they should talk to Misty about what they were going to do.

“I – we can’t tell the police about this, can we? I mean, they probably wouldn’t believe us in the first place. . . My mom was willing to put herself to death to keep her hands on this box,” Misty held it out to show them all, “I can’t even think about going to the cops if there’s a chance they’ll just take it away, lock it and us up, and forget about it. And. . . I want to finish this for her. After what my father did to her, to me, and to the Waterflowers. . . The only thing that would please me is to see him put away for it all.”

“There’s a word for that, isn’t there? It’s called ‘revenge’,” Brock stated regretfully, “And I know it seems hopeless, but we’re not prepared to take Team Rocket on alone, nor to keep running from them until the time you find enough – whatever it is you need to find – in order for the police to believe what you’ve got to say. Yes, we’ve gotten involved with some of Team Rocket’s more dangerous plans, but the worst they’ve been about is taking control of deathly strong Pokemon. This is murder, mass weaponry, world dominance. . .”

“Don’t remind me,” Misty said bitterly under her breath, “I know you think this is just some idiotic personal feud for me but. . . it’s not like I can help my attachment to it. My. . . father. . . sent his troops to kill my mom and then he sent them after me. Three times, at that.”

“Well, we can’t stay here, either way.” May said, “A group of trainers who should be eagerly on the road to becoming Masters? We had an excuse when you first showed up, Misty, because of your condition; but now it’s going to look suspicious, unfortunately. We have no business here now, so to linger just draws attention.”

“What do you think, Ash?” Brock interjected, looking to the younger boy.

“Oh, uh, well, besides wondering why my opinion matters so much, I guess that I. . .” Ash’s glance swung from Brock, to May, to Misty. . . And he saw the look in her eyes. He knew that, no matter what they decided, if it wasn’t what Misty had had in mind, she wouldn’t go for it; she was too determined to do anything else, “I guess that I’ll have to agree with Misty.”

The two girls and one boy waiting for him to reply blinked in amazement. After all, just a couple of weeks ago, he’d been complaining about how big this was, how they’d do well not to try and conquer it alone, but now he was suddenly all for it. . . ?

“You – you really think I’m right, Ash?” Misty’s tone was light enough not to betray how much it meant to her that Ash had trusted her judgment, but the grin growing rapidly across her face might not have been too helpful if she was trying to hide how she really felt.

“Yea, well, I don’t think this is a matter much of what choice it right or wrong.” Brock stated wisely, “Both decisions are liable to have consequences, losses. We just have to guess which ones will be less important to us.”

“I do’ though. I mean, I do think Misty’s right, or whatever. With all of us, there might be a chance; you can’t deny that. But if we go to the police and tell them what we know and hand over what we’ve got, and it ends up that they don’t believe us, well – there’s an immediate loss. It’s been almost twenty years and Team Rocket still hasn’t succeeded in getting back what Misty’s mom stole from them. . . Maybe we’re stronger than we think.” Ash took in his friends’ reactions to his statement and then he continued, “And besides, have you looked at Misty, guys? She’s not going to let us disagreeing with her stop her from doing what she thinks is right.”

“And Officer Jenny may be nice over all, but if we run up to her and just start shooting our mouths off, what do you think she’s going to say and do? To her, we’d probably just appear to be a group of drunken teenagers hell-bent on disturbing the peace. After all, Team Rocket may not have the best reputation, but with idiots like Jessie, James, and Meowth in there, it’s easy to see how they’ve never been implicated in a murder before,” May added.

“So you agree with Ash and Misty, then, May?” Brock asked her, and he seemed put off at the younger three travelers close-mindedness, “Maybe it’s just me that feels we’re stupid if we run face-first into this, then. . .”

“Probably.”

“Most likely.”

“Yep.”

Brock growled in frustration, “You guys are just acting cocky and selfish! May, you’re only thirteen years old! How would you feel if you died and never got to see your parents again? How do you think they’d feel? And, Misty, you’ve already been attacked personally two times, neither of which you were supposed to survive! You got a couple of lucky breaks and suddenly everything’s just an immature, childish adventure to you! And Ash. . . !” Brock broke off momentarily here in order to catch his breath, “Not only would your mother kill all of us if we survived this and she found out, but. . . but I saw your reaction to how bad Misty was put off the day she came back! Don’t make light of how much she went through, damnit! If Team Rocket can do that much to her out in the open when any number of trainers can be a matter of feet away, then imagine what they’re capable of within their own territory! Or don’t you care what happens to everyone?”

“O-of course I do!” Ash stated, and he seemed slightly red in the face, although no one could really tell if it was out of anger or embarrassment at Brock’s words, “But, like I said, nothing’s going to stop her doing this, okay? We all know how stubborn Misty can be, and if she’s gotten this far, then I don’t think she plans on stopping and letting it go anytime soon! And, well, how would you feel if we just let her go off on her own; huh?” He seemed pleased at having turned the tables on his friends, who was looking less then perfectly calm.

Brock said nothing and, though she found this conversation very interesting, Misty couldn’t help wanting to steer it in another direction.

“Hey! Don’t call me stubborn, Mr. Pokemon Master! And. . . what’s this reaction you had that I’m suddenly hearing about? Huh. . . ?” Misty prodded Ash in the shoulder with a sly expression on her face and nearly broke out into laughter when he flushed bright crimson.

“. . . It. . . thing. . .” He muttered so that even she couldn’t understand him.

“What was that?” She asked him.

“I said that it was nothing, okay!” Ash shouted, just in time to hear a knock on the door before it opened up in time to reveal a slightly shell-shocked Nurse Joy.

“I heard yelling; are you three okay?” She looked all of them in the eye as she said this, willing them not to lie to her.

“We’re just fine, my lovely Joy, but you must forgive my friends for their callous tones! Please allow my to teach them the respect that you deserve, and then, I’d love for you to accompany me on a date during which I’ll act the perfect gentleman – ow, ow, ow!” Brock finished in a howl as Misty dragged him off by the ear.

“Alright, Mr. Perfect Gentleman, cut the lines and act your age for once. . .” Misty growled, and she pulled him him away so that Nurse Joy could shut the door and get back to work.

“You’re so cruel, Misty. . .” Brock sobbed at the thought of another of his lost loves walking out of his life without giving him their phone number.

“Glad to have you back,” Ash and May smiled gratefully as she ended another term of her civic duty to prevent Brock from carrying through with his womanizing.

“Mm hmm,” Misty grinned back, “So, now what do we do? Take a vote about which way to go with this?”

“That’d probably be easiest. . .” Brock recovered and stated, “All in favor of relying on Officer Jenny and the authorities to help us out with this?” He hurriedly raised his hand into the air, but, glancing at the others, he noticed that no one else was joining him. Lowering his arm again, he sighed and continued, “All in favor of keeping all of this a secret and attempting to take down Giovanni on our own. . . ?” He seemed to know what was coming and, sure enough, all three of his friends now held up their hands. Seeing that there was nothing he could do, Brock slowly forced his own hand back into the air again, “. . .It’s settled. We’ll just have to see how far we can go on our own, then.” He ended with determination.

The group resolved themselves to leaving the next day and went about gathering supplies and food and battling for money so that they could be prepared for the long trip ahead. Because of Misty’s taking her time to recover, she and May had decided to go on their ultra-super-fun-time shopping trip the next day, a few hours before their departure from Rustboro.

But, for now, there was something else on Misty’s mind. Ever since the discussion she and her friends had had earlier that morning, in which Brock had let out some interesting news about Ash, the raven-haired Master-in-training had been avoiding her. He’d even shown up late to lunch just to evade talking to her. As Misty sat in the room everyone was sharing and began to pack her things, she couldn’t help being distracted with wonder at why Ash was behaving the way he was.

In her stupor, she managed to notice that she dropped some anonymous item and bent down to pick it up. There was the sudden ‘whoosh’ of a door opening and, quite jumpy, Misty ended up knocking her head roughly against the bedstead and alerting whoever was behind her to her presence.

“Oh,” croaked Ash almost shyly from behind her, “I. . . I thought that you’d be out with May. . .” It was obvious that he’d been hoping for the room to be empty so that he could continue ignoring her in peace, “Well, I’ll just come back later. I need to pick Pikachu up from Nurse Joy anyway,” and he turned to leave in a rush.

“Wait, Ash!” Misty called out to him, and he stopped and turned stiffly to face her, “I just wanted to know if. . . if you’re mad at me or something.”

He blinked, not expecting this, and scratched his head in confusion, giving an airy laugh that betrayed his uneasiness.

“Of course not, Misty! Why would you think that?”

“Well, I did sort of laugh at you when Brock mentioned how you’d responded to seeing me all hurt the day I came back, and I thought maybe you took me a bit seriously. . .” She looked down at her feet, “. . .I thought I did something wrong. . .” Her tone was slightly hurt, “. . .Because you’ve barely talked to me since the night I returned home, you know?”

“I-I’m sorry, Misty. I guess I’ve just had something on my mind. I mean, it’s great to see you again. . . but this wasn’t how I expected our next meeting to take place after you left us the last time. And. . . Brock was right; and May too, if she’s gossiped to you about this like I think she has. I won’t deny it,” he gulped as though about to take a large plunge, “I was so worried about you that night. When I saw you being carried off by Team Rocket and after May’s Ivysaur set you on the ground, I. . . It almost hurt to breathe, my heart was beating so fast.”

Misty suddenly found the room very hot as she noticed that Ash had somehow moved from his place beside the door, all the way across the bare stretch of carpet to her front. Her own breath was suddenly stilled at the look in his eyes; she’d never seen that in him before, never known that he could look into and through her so thoroughly.

She tried to speak but any words she’d been meaning to say to him were blown clear from her mind as her face was suddenly buried softly against his chest. His arms snaked around her back and held her to him as he leant down, his chin pressed lightly against her shoulder-blade. All of this seemed to happen over an eternity of time, but Misty couldn’t seem to move. All she could do was stand there as Ash’s embrace grew only tighter. And then, in the depths of that blankly wonderful moment that the two teenagers had found themselves in, Ash spoke so that only she could hear him.

“I’m sorry that I let you down back there. I should have been there to help you. Just know that the only thing that makes all of that bearable is that. . . You’re alive, and okay, and here with me now.”

His statement nearly brought tears to her eyes, but then, the next thing Misty knew, she was standing next to the bed upon which her bag of Pokeballs sat in an otherwise empty room, staring at what she could have sworn had been an open door not more than two seconds ago.

OoO

It was almost noon the next day and Misty and May were to be currently found eating a slightly early lunch in a small diner and talking about those silly things that seem to commonly plague teenage girls minds. While May sat across from her, talking about some boy named Drew in a half-exasperated and half-admiring tone, Misty’s thoughts slowly began to mull over once again on the subject they’d been frequently turning to ever since yesterday evening; that strange dream-like meeting with Ash.

She couldn’t even distinguish it as a dream or reality at this point. After he’d gone, or she’d woken up, or whatever had happened, Misty couldn’t help wondering if it had all been some beautiful illusion her mind had cooked up over the worries that Ash was angry and avoiding her for some reason, because he was still persisting to do so.

Then again, that didn’t necessarily rule out that those few moments had been real. After all, if she’d gone up to him and apologized and hugged him, and confessed something on the brink of intimate worry and affection. . . well. . . the least she would be is embarrassed.

But she had nothing else to take in, to help her decide if it was all true or not. All she had were those words. . . And the possibility of his lingering grasp as his arms held her to him. . .

“. . .Don’t you think so, Misty?” May’s quip broke the redhead out of her reverie.

“I. . . think so? Could you repeat that?”

“I said that he’s always so annoying, acting all self-righteous and cocky. It’s too infuriating for words, even if he is mature and a good coordinator, and a strong rival, and just a bit cute. . .”

“Oh. . . Uh huh,” but her thoughts were on someone completely different from whoever May was talking about, “You mean that Drew you mentioned earlier, right?”

“Oh, er. . . We should go, then; and let’s take the park pathway to the mall, okay? It’s always so nice and quiet. . .” May seemed to realize that she’d said something embarrassing and so she rushed Misty to the cash register with their receipt and the two girls paid for their meals, exited the restaurant, and continued walking down the street with their bags strung over their shoulder and strapped to their waist.

Ten minutes later, they were traveling slowly through the town park, which was, as May had said, nice and quiet. The sun shone bright and warm above them and the greenery was vibrant in the prime of summer growth. The only thing that upset Misty for some reason was the lack of other people walking around and interacting. She knew that most people would be at work, but. . . What about parents or nurses with infants and young children, or the frozen treats man who usually towed his cart around town right about now. . . ?

May seemed to notice something was wrong too, because she gathered close to Misty’s side and drew a Pokeball, pressing the button on its center to enlarge it. Misty did the same, and the two girls began to quicken their step, but all too soon, the familiar stench of danger brought their attention to a group of strangers hidden around them.

“May, listen to me. . .” Misty murmured, and the younger girl looked in her direction for a split second and gave a brief nod, “I know you won’t leave me to fight on my own, so. . . well. . . we’ll do this together. But if they hit you, which I’m sure they’ll try to do as it’s me they’re after, just lay down and play dead, okay? Don’t give me that look--!” Misty’s voice raised ever so slightly as May opened her mouth to argue, “If you fight and fight and they end up killing you and taking me, then you’re just. . . dead. But if you live, even if they do take me, you can hurry back to Ash and Brock and tell them what happened, okay?” She let out a quaking breath as the sky began to grow suddenly dark and cloudy and strange silhouettes flitted around the two girls, “Promise me, please. . . ?”

“I. . .” May’s jaw didn’t seem to want to move and form words.

“Promise me!” Misty shouted just in time for a blast of water to send her flying backwards. Somehow she still managed to stay on her feet, and she ran back to where she’d formerly been, throwing the Pokeball she was holding, “Seadra! Go! Use Hydro Pump!” There was a flash of red light and the small but fierce looking Pokemon appeared before her, letting out a strong spurt of water in every direction and causing five uniformed men and women to envision themselves quite suddenly.

“Go. . . Blaizekin! Double Team and then Fire Spin!” May shouted and she took a chance to look at Misty, “. . .Fine, I’ll do what you said. But let’s just hope that it doesn’t come down to that. . . !” She grunted as she saw her Pokemon take a hit and ordered him to attack again.

“Smokescreen, Seadra! Then use Pin Missle!”

The burst of smoke caused a couple of shouts and disturbances from beyond their view, but a few seconds later, a man’s dull figure rose into visibility and he seemed to be walking towards them. Then he raised his arm and, his eyes turning blue in accordance to another anonymous creature beside him, still obscured, snapped his fingers. Almost immediately, a series of invisible-like threads circled around the smog that Seadra had produced, whipping it high into the air and onto a equally invisible spindle. And then it simply vanished. Finally, Misty and May were able to see exactly what they were facing at the time.

The man from before was standing next to an Alakazam and, behind them, an army of other Pokemon stood awaiting the commands of the trainers. But the trainers in questions seemed to be completely silent, almost like the last thing on their minds was the battle before them.

“We are an elite team dispatched by Giovanni to secure Misty Waterflower, also known as Aurora Williams. It is your fathers wish,” and he his gaze swung entirely upon Misty, who couldn’t help staring back, “that you meet him at once to discuss his plans for you. It’d be best if you were to come quietly, however, if you resist, we will not wait to take you by force; we can only hope that your friend doesn’t get hurt in the process.”

Misty looked at May, who stared defiantly back, ready to do next to anything over than give in or retreat. Then the redhead turned her gaze back to the group of strangers before her.

“Gee, it’s a nice offer, but I don’t think that either of us is ready to just hand ourselves over to you.”

“Hmm, then, most unfortunately, we must do battle; Alakazam, use Confusion.” The man nodded calmly towards May and Blaizekin. She panicked slightly and tried to think of a combination to counter the telekinetic attack, but was obviously having some difficulty.

“Return Seadra! Go. . . Gyarados!” Misty shouted, “Use Whirlpool, and then Waterfall! You, Blaizekin, make sure to keep your trainer out of harms way!” She finished and, reproducing another Double Team, Blaizekin picked May up into his arms and used Agility to move about, evading any Psychic blasts.

Meanwhile, Gyarados’ Whirlpool had closed in on the Psychic opponent and collided with him. While Alakazam tried to find a way out, the giant serpent bashed into him head-first and threw him backwards; and then he gave a roar of triumph. . . Only, too soon.

“Alakazam; recover. As for you, while I might not expect any less of Giovanni’s daughter, I believe I challenged the other girl to a battle. You might do well against my comrade.”

Misty, stung by his comment, retaliated.

“Hey, you’re a part of Team Rocket, aren’t you! I’d have though you loved my dad’s way of working!”

“You misunderstand. We are not members of your father’s organization. He merely hired us to do the job that your past offenders have failed to complete. We don’t agree with his ways. . . Nevertheless, he is our client, and whatever it takes, we will not fail him. Now, back on track, I have chosen to fight your friend, and my associate has chosen to fight you.” He nodded towards the woman to his right, who stepped forward, still staring blankly ahead. Alongside her stood a terrifyingly large Feraligatr.

“Fine; alright,” Misty replied bitingly, “May, do you think you can handle him. . . ?” May, who looked more than a bit shaken, nodded numbly, “Okay, let’s get this started, then. . . !”

“The battle is one-on-one; the prize, should the girls win, will be their freedom. If we win, which there’s no doubt in my mind that we will, we shall have you, Miss Waterflower, and your friend’s Pokemon. You both must face a separate trial, so you both must pay a separate price. . . And Giovanni wants all Pokemon left over afterwards.”

Misty and May groaned, but nodded their approval of the terms. Misty noticed that May, though still trying to look brave, was having trouble breathing properly.

“Battle, start!”

“Blaizekin, Agility and Low Kick! Then, Double-Team and Flame-Thrower!”

“Alakazam, Barrier! Psybeam, and then, when he’s down, use Hypnosis!”

May gasped, not sure how to defend her Pokemon from its own weakness towards sleep. The Low Kick she’d pressed on had made full contact but the Psychic Pokemon seemed to be so powerful that it didn’t matter. Before her Pokemon could carry through with his second attack combo, however, the Psybeam waves collided with him, sending him backwards. Blaizekin shook off the lingering impact and attempted to ride his wave out a second time, and evading the effect of the Hypnosis. . .

Meanwhile, on Misty’s side of the battlefield, Gyarados was holding his own pretty well against the Feraligfatr, but that might have had to do with the fact that the gator-type Pokemon only seemed to be using techniques of the water variety. They never really seemed to be hurting her partner, but they did push Gyarados back a bit each time he was hit. Misty, although she prided herself on offensive maneuverability, did happen to notice a strategy when she saw one. However, as she had yet to comprehend what that strategy was, she couldn’t counter it with anything full-proof of her own.

“Feraligatr, use Hydro Pump!”

“Oh, enough of that! Gyarados, use Rain Dance, then close in and use Hyper Beam!” Misty looked at her opponents face to see her expression. She expected something like fear; or maybe frustration, or worry. . . But all she got was the smallest of smiles.

She barely had time to think it over when she realized that her Pokemon, while trying to advance forward, was only getting slowly shoved further backwards; nevertheless, the Hyper Beam was already being charged from within its scaly mouth. Feraligatr wasn’t moving, and only continued to blast tides of clear water at Gyarados, who was still being backed away, ever slowly, into the. . .

. . .And suddenly the plan that her adversary was using, however simple or prodigious it might have been, made itself clear to her. . . But did she have a chance to stop it? Misty didn’t know, but she had to try. . .

“Gyarados, don’t fire that Hyper Beam! Stop!” But it was too late; he already had. The flaring rainbow of raw power sped towards the Feraligatr. . .

. . .Just as Blaizekin, almost completely worn out, skidded to a halt besides May, who seemed to be facing something of her own inner terror. Blaizekin awaited her command, having just initiated a Slash attack on Alakazam, who was already recovering again.

May could barely feel the toll of her legs shaking slightly; she knew that, no matter what she tried to do, the battle was already lost. . . She’d never had a chance at victory, not with an opponent such as the one she was facing. It was done; she was finished.

But this hopeless demeanor had to be shaken. Near loss or not, she couldn’t let Misty down! She couldn’t let her Pokemon down! She couldn’t let herself down! And suddenly, May felt a tiny quiver of faith and strength soar rapidly within her. She didn’t have Ash to help guide her in this; she didn’t have her family to cheer her on. All she had was her Pokemon and Misty, all of which were counting on her.

“Blaizekin, I’m ordering you – do not waste your time on preventing me from me getting hurt! I want you to set all of your sights on fighting Alakazam! I can defend myself!” She took a deep breath and a sturdy step forward, “Now go ahead! Quick Attack! Ember! Dodge those!” May’s tone was suddenly ferocious as she conducted Blaizekin’s movement so that he made his way at Alakazam while steadily evading any of the Pokemon’s Psychic-based defense, “Now, Double Team again, Agility, and circle him!” Blaizekin did so and May’s face shown with a slight grin of confidence, “Fire Punch! Quick Attack! Low Kick! And keep circling! Repeat those attacks! Keep using Agility!”

The fire-type Pokemon’s slams, punches, and kicks simultaneously rammed into Alakazam, knocking him around this way and that and giving next-to-no time for him to retaliate. By now, Blaizekin was nothing but a flashing blur as he continued roving and weaving around his opponent.

“Now, close in with Fire Blast!”

“Alakazam. . . Teleport,” said an annoyingly calm voice from beyond the fire, and Alakazam flickered steadily out of sight, leaving Blaizekin to rush into an empty area, fully-powered.

Alakazam appeared quite suddenly behind May’s Pokemon and turned to face him, his eyes glowing blue.

“Psychic,” the trainer murmured softly.

. . . And the Feraligatr put on a burst of speed and leapt out of the way as the Hyper Beam blasted its way to the ground at his feet. The recoil sent Gyarados tumbling backwards just to the edge of the pathway, so that rogue branches and brambles cracked against his firm backside and made him moan in pain.

“No, Gyarados!” Misty ran forward to help her Pokemon, but the Feraligatr found his way between them. It growled menacingly at her as Gyarados attempted to relieve himself from the burden of catching himself in the lengths of greenery.

“You may not interfere,” the woman across from her stated simply, “Do not manipulate the Pokemon and their strengths and weaknesses. Complete the battle.”

“I. . .” Misty turned to look at her Pokemon, which was currently licking his wounds and repeatedly flinching as it tried to reach his fullest height. She stood back again and attempted to think of a new attack phase.

“Feraligatr, Body Slam.”

“No! Wait!”

“Silly girl, what true adversary waits for you to come up with a plan?” The woman asked her and, for the first time, there was something comical in her tone as their Pokemon hurtled themselves deep into the brush, Gyarados first, and disappeared for a moment, “I think that the battle is almost over,” the trees shook slightly and both Pokemon reappeared, grappling at one another and gnashing their teeth.

Gyarados was, in lame-mans terms, bloodied up. After twice being shoved into the filthy and rough terrain off of the pathway, and then being bitten and clawed in several placed by his opponent, he looked weary with fatigue and quite pained. Even as he continued to fight, he was swiftly losing his footing and accuracy in the battle.

Misty wanted to give up. She wanted to declare her loss and take her punishment as she’d agreed to in the beginning. But. . . she just couldn’t lose. She couldn’t afford to call Gyarados back and admit defeat because. . . it would just be the end of. . . everything. However,what was there to do? She had nothing else. . . And it was taking all of her sanity to watch as her Pokemon continued to hurt. . . to fade. . .

“Feraligatr, it’s time to end this! Use Bite and then Slash.”

“Gyarados, use Barrier. . . !”

But that was it.

Gyarados let out one final roar as the gator-like Pokemon ran his claws roughly across the scaly length right below his mouth, drawing more blood. Then the giant serpant fell backward onto the ground and lay almost completely still.

In fact, the only thin that could have been reacting less was Misty’s heart, which felt as though it’d stopped as she bowed her head and slowly raised her arm to call Gyarados back. It was over. . . ? She’d lost?

Almost immediately, she was surrounded by the strangers and their Pokemon from before. She managed to keep hold of her bag of Pokeballs and other things, but she knew that there was no way she’d be able to take all of them down, no matter what she tried to do. And then she heard the scream.

“No; I won’t let you do! Not my Pokemon! Not Blaizekin! Misty, please, don’t let them!” That was when May took a moment to glance at Misty’s condition, “No, Misty! Oh. . . !” And she made a point to try and run over to help her friend out, holding Blaizekin’s Pokeball in her hands.

Misty didn’t have a chance to tell May to back off, to tell her they’d lost and to remind her of her promise to lay down and play it off, when there was a bright blue light from the side of the younger girl and, looking shocked, she was thrust straight into the trunk of a great oak tree, which crippled slightly from the impact. She hit the ground and remained there, motionless, and Misty, terrified, could only wonder if the Petalburg girl was faking it.

“May? May! Wake up! Er, twitch! Do something!” Forgetting herself, Misty tried to get some reaction from the girl, but it was no good.

The man stepped forward with his Alakazam at his side. He leant down and pulled May’s phanny-pack from her waist, removing the five loose (and occupied) Pokeballs from within and taking hold of the enlarged one that’d fallen from her hand. May continued to lay there and didn’t seem to even think of fighting to get her Pokemon back.

“Why did you do that!” Misty yelled furiously, trying to break free of the hold she was currently being gripped at, but finding it highly difficult. The man looked intently at her as she made his way to them all, and his colleagues continued to call back their own Pokemon and place the Pokeballs out of sight.

“The girl attempted to get in the way. I told her, and you, that she was liable to get hurt if she tried to stop us from reaching our goal,” the man said, now refusing to look her in the eye, “She will feel it when she wakes up, but she is alive.”

Misty, who’d been just thinking of threatening the man if May’s life had been put in danger by the hit, looked at him with a sudden sense of dawning comprehension.

“. . .You’re a psychic, aren’t you. . . ?”

“If you’re willing to ask that question, then you must know already. It’s not something that gets thrown out into the open that often.

“If you are, then you must know what I’m going to be facing after you leave me with Him. You said that you don’t agree with him and his tactics. Even if he is your client, how can you live with yourself? You must know what he’s like, what he’s planning to do. . . to the entire world. . .” Misty tried to reason with the man before her, but the next time he glanced at her, she knew it was useless.

“Are you that concerned about your fate, and that of your friends?” When she didn’t reply, he continued speaking, “You don’t have to worry. You won’t be forced to suffer for long.”

And then, his and Alakazam’s eyes glowed blue again and Misty, still being restrained, felt some estranged flying tug from all around her body, as though the wind around her was picking her up into the air.

There was a flash and the whole lot of them were gone, leaving May slumped unconscious on the ground.

OoOoO

Notes – WooT! Yea! After about six months of writing up this chapter and two months typing it up, I’m very pleased with the way it worked out! I’m uber-proud of my work this time around, actually, unlike the last two parts. I have a feeling that, if continued, this can only be an omen of good things to come. Er. . . They won’t all be good, mind you, but. . . well, I’ll save it for the spoilers.

Oh, and to the Pokeshippers, a bit of good news. As of late – or later than I’d originally planned – I’ve decided to make this fic a complete AAMR, and not just an adventurous thing with bits and pieces of romance. I guess it was only a matter of time, really, but I’ve finally found the place to put in the lovely lil’ hints, and the confession. Heh, heh, heh. . . I’ve already told a couple of close friends about how I plan to do it and they were pretty pleased, so you shouldn’t have to worry.

Oh, also, I gave this warning in chapter five of Blind (my current Harry Potter fic), but I might as well say it here, too. . . I’m currently hoping to get a job, school will be starting at the end of the month, and my mom has just been placed in the hospital for a rabid-serious surgery (among other things) so I won’t have a lot of extra time to update my fics. Sorry. But perhaps you all can prove your loyalty to me by making sure not to give up on Chibi as she words extra hard to survive. Yup, yup!

Spoilers for Chapter Three – (Hmm. . . I haven’t really gotten that far yet. . . Lol. . .) May wakes up and alerts Ash and Brock to the fact that Misty is missing and the three of them attempt to think of a way to find her. Well, that is, after Ash goes insane and runs around town in the middle of a thunderstorm in hopes that she’s still close-by. Anyway, they must travel to old familiar grounds only to find that their lead is destroyed. . . And then Misty appears, wearing a Team Rocket uniform and commanding them to turn over their Pokemon and come with her to her fathers head-quarters. And she doesn’t seem to be joking. . .

OoO – Chibi – OoO