Hello, hello, hello! I've been doing a lot of Pokemon Roleplay recently and I've been reading a great deal of fanfiction. Big shout out to Lyokoluva's Sinnoh Legacy (it is love). Where was I? Oh. Yes. I've been doing a lot of writing and reading, but I've never actually written Pokemon Fanfiction before. So. I decided to take a stab at it. This is my first attempt, as I said, and I would appreciate all of the feedback you guys are willing to give. First chapter's written a bit awkwardly and I hope that'll pass as I add more and more chapters. Wrote this in one sitting so there might be a whole host of issues and... WOOO. I'mma stop now and let you guys get to reading. But fiiiiiirst:

I do not own Pokemon. It belongs to someone else. However, the characters within this story are mine, copyright to me. Do not take them, I will cry. A lot.

Also. This fiction might include some made up places, but never made up Pokemon (that's not how I roll) or people with special powers, it always unnerves me to read that. However, I will try my best to keep things interesting. May contain bits of slash (that is, homosexual relationships) here and there. Dunno yet. Still mapping it all out in my head. THROW ME IDEAS AND I WILL USE THEM WITH CREDIT TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS. AIM at pyruvicxxacid or MSN me at . I think that's it. Enjoy. And leave me reviews!

"P-P-Pokemon?"

Large, incredulous blue eyes peered at the older man. There was a table between the young boy to whom the eyes belonged and the elder gentleman, but a veritable chasm of experience and life lessons separated them. As far as the boy was concerned, they were on two completely different planets here because he had just come to drop off a basket of baked goods from is grandmother, not pick up a Pokemon. He didn't have the slightest idea of how to even pet one without it biting him! And this guy wanted to give him one to train and take care of? Certainly not. Definitely not.

"Yes."

The boy's mouth sagged a bit lower, plump red lips separated in shock and dismay. Had he done something wrong to lead the man on in thinking that he had come to get a starter so that he could leave on some epic journey and save the world? Oh no, if he had then he would have to apologize straight away. He was not that kind of person; he could barely get out of bed in the morning without stubbing his toe or clunking his head, how could he ever be expected to survive on his own long enough to journey anywhere? Disbelief colored his face. Just what in the heck was this guy playing at?

"I... I... I'm afraid I don't understand... I just came to–"

"Drop off the basket, yes, I'm aware." The boy flinched when he professer shifted in his seat, adjusting his tie in mild, amused frustration. Soon, he was sitting with his hands folded neatly on top of his knee and one leg placed casually over the other. Cutting green eyes stared out from beneath neatly trimmed brown eyebrows that were just beginning to show hints of gray. He was a handsome man, even at his age, but frequent squinting had lead to his dependence on glasses to see properly. A shame for the boy that the wire-framed spectacles did little to diminish the challenging heat of the man's gaze.

The man's lips twitched briefly before they melted into a benevolent, kind smile. How many trainers had he seen come through these doors, engines blazing and eyes afire, ready to take the world by storm? More than a few, that was for sure. Far too many to count. And how many demure boys and girls had he coaxed into it the life of a trainer? Again, more than he had fingers to count. And each time, they came back, tail between their legs, crying pitifully because they couldn't make it. This boy's lack of confidence was refreshing if not somewhat vexing.

"You are... reluctant. I can understand that," he said without looking at the boy, smoothing down the papers on his desk instead. His voice was soft, gentle, but there was a firm deteremination it. This was going his way, that minor intonation said, and it made the boy squirm in the leather chair as if it were filled with nails and tacks. Cautiously, the professor slid a hand across the polished cherry wood desktop and set it on the boy's knee. "Please. Calm down, boy. You'll break my chair."

The boy's face immediately grew flushed at this and he dipped his head before it could be seen again. The professor simply sighed and fully stood, sliding his chair into the desk and walking across the room to where a large stand filled with Pokeballs stood. Lightly, he tapped his lips with his index finger, not entirely unaware of the set of large blue eyes burning holes into his back, and tried not to smile at the poorly disguised attempts at stealth. Undoubtedly, this boy would not last a day out there if given something flashy and too outgoing. A frown darkened the Professor's face.

"Abe, you said your name was?"

Suprised by the professor's voice, Abe squeaked an affirmative.

"Good. Now, Abe. Please come here." Again, the professor spoke without looking at Abe and the boy quickly scrambled out of his chair, almost knocking it over, before rushing to the professor's side. Already, he had forgotten his protests and seemed to be quite amendable to the idea of getting a Pokemon of his very own. It brought a wry, almost sardonic grin to the man's face. How easily distracted and fickle children were these days. How very fickle indeed.

Abe's sudden change of heart made him want to know why he had spent the last hour or so trying to convince the boy of medium height and build with incredibly blond hair and startling blue eyes that he had no reason to panic and that Pokemon were in fact quite beneficial to humans. As his fingertips glided over each glossy red surface, the professor's mind wandered back to the moment Abe had first stammered and stumbled his way into the lab, holding up the frayed basket as if it was going to ward off anything that got near him. He'd had to basically pry it out of the boy's hands before getting down to the matter of discussing Pokemon.

Inwardly, he was going to have to have a talk with Abe's grandmother the next time he saw her for not warning him that the boy was so high-strung and tightly wound.

"Yes. This will do for you," the professor spoke suddenly, apparently frightening Abe because the boy almost jumped out of his skin with the professor turned to speak to him. Shrewd but amused eyes took in the sight of flushed cheeks and widened eyes for a moment or so before he moved forward with the selected Pokeball in hand. "If you would please give me a moment..." The professor's voice dipped low as he slipped around Abe and returned to his desk where he promptly began pressing buttons.

Several buttons. In rapid succession. Abe almost became dizzy watching the professor's hands as they darted over the keyboard, hammering out a melody of cold, calculating precision. Awkwardly, he fumbled with the edges of his t-shirt while trying to keep down the warm sense of anticipation that kept trying to crawl up his stomach into his throat. He figured if he didn't let himself think about it, he couldn't get overexcited and do something really embarassing. Now that would have been just... unbearable. Still! How exciting was this?

When he had set out earlier that day, he hadn't dared to dream that by the end of the night, he would be a trainer! A trainer! Oh, he had always wanted to be a trainer, but with his ineptitude in trainer school and his general lack of self-confidence... well, he hadn't held on to the illusions that he'd ever make it. But now look at him! Abe bit his bottom lip, trying to stifle an excited squeal when the Professor gave a soft, 'aha, done!' And he was even able to look somewhat less mortified when the man turned fully on him with a wide grin and held out the Pokeball for him to take.

"So! You have your first Pokemon now. How do you feel, Abe?"

A swirling, empty feeling suffused his head the moment he felt the cold material of the Pokeball against the palm of his hand. The feeling grew to be very intense when he rolled the orb around, feeling it for the first time and trying to memorize its every curve and touch. How did he feel? A rather good question, actually. He had no idea how he felt. Slowly, he let his gaze touch the professor's and sighed weakly.

"I feel kinda funny actually... kind of like I'm going to–"

"Abe, no!" The professor's plea came too late as Abe pitched forward and painted a rather interesting picture all over his floor and shoes. Unfortunately, the boy missed the garbage can some six inches away from where the first splash had occured. The professor would have liked to say that this was the first time this had happened. Sadly, it wasn't. He still hadn't gotten all of the stains out from when he'd given that Diem boy his first Pokemon a little over a month ago. A shudder raced through his body as he ran his hand lightly Abe's back, ushering the boy to the restroom.

"There, there, Abe. We'll get you all cleaned up..."

--

Abe's ears prickled at the squelch of skin on skin. He had just smacked his forehead for what felt like the hundredth time (because it was starting to feel numb up there) for throwing up all over the professor's shoes like he was some kind of kid going on a scary ride for the first time. He hadn't -ever- been on a scary ride so this whole vomiting thing was still very new to him; Abe felt terribly about what had happened, evidenced by his self-mutilation, but that couldn't bring down the light, airy sense of giddiness he felt when he squeezed the Pokeball in his pocket. Normally, his pockets were loaded with lint, rubber bands, and paper clips, but today they actually had important things inside of them: a Pokedex, a few empty Pokeballs that the Professor had scrounged around and found for him, and most importantly, the Pokeball that carried his very first Pokemon inside of it.

It was all rather exciting, to the point that he wanted to leave the dirt path that led up the hill to his house and dance in the twlight with the Volbeat and Illumise. Bathed in the scarlets and golds of sunset, the world had come to life again now that it was safe from the hottest part of the day and Abe could see Pokemon emerging slowly from their hiding places along the short path that lead to home. Sentret and Zizagoon played in the grass, but scurried away when his gaze strayed to them, and there were a few Oddish coming out to stretch their legs in the sunset, ready to bathe in the moonlight and dance beneath the stars. Abe had for the most part of his life suffered from a deep-running fear the dark and so was not overly fond of lingering on the path when doing so meant he'd get caught by nightfall, but the urge to release his Pokemon was again starting to get the better of him.

He had promised himself that he would not do so until he got home, when he could share the moment with his mom and grandma, but he wanted, almost painfully, to find out what the professor had given him and it would only take a few minutes and... warily, he glanced at the sloping, grassy knoll where his home, a small little rural town that lay between Twinleaf and Sandgem, was. Just a few minutes, he told himself. Just a few minutes and he would tuck the little guy... or girl away into the safety of the Pokeball until he got home.

Nervous, twitching fingers found their way into his pocket and extracted the Pokeball. In the dying daylight, it seemed to glow and he took several long glances at it before he managed to blink and sever the spell it had placed over him. He slowly, because he really had no desire to break it, pressed the button at its center once to enlarge it–he very nearly dropped it then out of surprise–and then again to make it pop open.

Immediately, he regretted doing so because a shower of white light streamed upward and arched away from him, spilling on to the ground below. He had never once witnessed anything that was at once terrifying and breahthtakingly beautiful and watching as the light morphed itself into something made his stomach churn and flop. Oh no! Had he done something wrong? What was going on here? Doing something wrong was a very distinct possiblity. Memories of breaking Pokeballs were painfully fresh in his mind and tears, his constant companion, welled up in the corners of his eyes. He'd broken it; this was it, his life was over!

And in the two seconds it took for him to open the ball and for the light to cease its dancing, he had already failed miserably as a trainer. Or not. The light was thrown off in a sea of sparkles as a solitary cry went up, 'Poli!'

Abe stared blankly down at the blue, circular body, large, soulful eyes, pink, pouty lips, and swirling black line that stood out so well against a white belly. And doe-eyed and wonderstruck, the creature stared back at him. It only had two limbs, feet, if you didn't count its tail and Abe was starting to wonder if this was some kind of joke. Poliwag. His studies told him that it was a water type and lived amphibiously. That was all he knew. But, then again, that was all he needed to know. Poliwag meant one thing and one thing only, the professor didn't really trust him.

They were given out to those who were a bit... less gifted in the training department, his teacher had droned on and on a couple of years ago. Everyone in the class had promptly turned to him and laughed. He hadn't wanted a Poliwag. Of all the Pokemon in existence, why the one that most symbolized his immeninent failure as a trainer and his shortcomings as a person? Why? A sad frown creased his face as began dragging his feet toward the hill. Poliwag, somewhat confused by all of this, followed tentatively at first.

It called to Abe. He didn't listen. It called again when they reached the hill. He didn't listen. So it promptly began to cry, flopping down at the base of the hill as Abe began the trekk upward. That got his attention and he whirled about, staring down at his starter with a baffled expression.

"What?" He didn't see a problem. It's tears escaped its body in a steady stream and only grew more insistent and strident when it heard Abe's voice. "Come on! What's wrong with you?" The frustration was clear in his voice and Poliwag responded by letting loose another scream, it's tiny body contracting again and again from the effort it took to belt out those cries. Abe threw his hands over his ears and slid down the hill, angrily muttering to himself the whole way, and when he reached it, he crouched down and attempted to soothe the poor little creature.

"Come on... come on... you'll dehydrate yourself if you keep it up."

More water cut through the air and the Poliwag's cries cut Abe through to his heart. It wasn't Poliwag's fault that he was having trouble, was it? Could he honestly blame the creature for being born? He could, but it wouldn't do him any good. "I'm sorry, Poliwag... I am." Abe's voice grew calm and sincere. Ashamed of what he'd done, he stroked its slimy, damp skin and didn't even retch! Some things just didn't face the curly-haired blond boy with the button nose. Slime being one of them, apparently.

Poliwag sniffed and struggled to its feet as Abe picked it up into his arms and this time, they made it up the hill together.

Slowly, he made his way toward his house, the smallest house in all of town, and with his Poliwag napping in his arms. He was still unhappy with what he'd been given to start his journey with. But that was just something he would have to deal with.