A/N: First of all, a merry Christmas to you! :D

Second of all, yes, this is the second new story within a few weeks, and it's rather in line with Epitaph in that it's going to be basically a collection of one-shots; except that unlike Epitaph this one won't even have an overarching story going on in the background. This will be a collection of one-shots focusing around my original Pokémon OC (that is, my very first character), Diego. I probably should have something more to say here, but to be honest, I don't. Reviews are greatly appreciated. :) I'll try to update this one with some kind of regularity but I can't make any promises in that regard.

Again, a merry Christmas, and a happy new year to you all. :)

All of the characters that appear in this chapter are mine; however, all official Pokémon material belongs to Nintendo et al.

Dreams of the Past- The Memoirs of an Electric Mouse

Snow

I hated snow.

It was an irrational hatred, but then again Pokémon are often called irrational creatures. Though if you asked me, I'd certainly tell you that I thought my hatred of it was justified. It was the same reason I hated the forest, the same reason most humans made me shudder and recoil and growl.

It was cold. It was cold and white and I was lost, lost in the trees, cold and hungry and sick and waiting to die. My paws and my tail were numb, and I was moving, always moving, trying to find someplace warm or to find something to eat or… well, maybe if I kept moving I'd run across a predator and it would just put me out of this hell.

It was nighttime, but the streets outside were brightly lit, so even now, after I'd hoped it would have faded from sight, I could still see the abominable substance drifting down from the sky. It wasn't so bad in and of itself, I admitted to myself somewhat grudgingly, curled up into the deep windowsill in Ren's bedroom, staring out and watching the snow fall gently to the ground. By itself, it seemed to evoke this idea of peace and quiet and… this pure cleanness, an idea of sheer unmarred beauty. To be sure, the snow looked like a wonderful thing from the far side of a window.

I moved slightly, to ease the stiffness I could feel settling into my muscles, and my leg ached for just a moment at the sudden motion. I froze, reminded of another reason why I hated the snow.

'Please, no, please…'

"Get away from me, you freak!"

Pain—pain, as the human's shoe dug into my right haunch, a powerful kick that sent me flying away from him. I rolled to a stop, using all of my willpower to not scream in agony; my leg felt like it had been shattered. I forced my eyes open, tears leaking uncontrollably from them as I looked back at the human. The setting sun was behind him, and in the twilight I could not see his face very well, but the way he carried himself suggested an unstoppable rage, a fury, a pure hatred as he stared down at me.

'What did I do?' I moaned helplessly at him.

"Didn't you hear me, rat? Go away! I never want to see you again!"

Past him, I could see his Lucario. She, too, carried herself as though tense, but her tension was not one borne of hatred as my Trainer's was. Indeed, she seemed torn, confusion clear in her eyes even from this distance. It was pointless to hope, I told myself. She'd never go against his word; she was honor-bound to follow whatever her Trainer said.

"What, did I break your leg or something?" spat Arman. "Pathetic rat! This is why I'm throwing you away. You're weak and worthless. I hate you! I never should have caught you! Maybe it's just as well you can't move, huh? Maybe some Ariados will come and digest you or something, put you out of your miserable little life."

The Lucario's eyes were nearly burning now. I could tell that she was hating this, hating every word he said and wishing she could make him stop and take them back—but she never acted. For all she seemed willing to think on her own, she seemed absolutely incapable of acting if it meant going against one of Arman's decisions. In a way, it was almost cowardly.

'Help me,' I pleaded, not to Arman or to the Lucario but just to someone, someone who would come and make this right, who would take the pain away. 'Help me, please…'

"Shut up!" he roared, taking a warning step toward me. I tried to stand, but my leg refused to support my weight and I fell again, shaking and sobbing and pleading.

'Don't leave! Don't leave, don't go away, please…'

"Doesn't listen to orders, even now," muttered the human darkly. "Ugly, stupid, disease-ridden…" With a growl, he turned and began stomping away, in the opposite direction of the forest behind me. "Come on, Uruzi!"

The Lucario had stood frozen even after he left, shock and surprise evident on her eyes. I could see her shaking, trembling ever so slightly. We locked gazes, she and I, and I pleaded one last time for help, silently. She held my gaze for only a moment, and then looked away.

'Stratonimbus, I…' She swallowed. 'I…'

"Uruzi!"

She turned away and followed after him, and did not look back at me. I stared after them for a few minutes, unwilling and unable to accept what had just happened. The air grew thick with the smell of ozone, and presently it began to rain, a cold fall rain that soaked through my fur and left me chilled. All the while, my leg never stopped burning.

'Big brother?'

I started, knocked out of my reverie by Myst's unmistakable, soft voice. She was behind me, on the floor. I hadn't heard her come in, but the Vulpix had always been light on her paws. I blinked; my muzzle felt wet. Had I been crying? Hastily I uncurled and began to rub at my face, trying to wipe away the tears, but before I'd finished Myst had leapt up next to me on the sill, concern glittering in her wide brown eyes.

'Big brother, what's wrong?'

'N-nothing.' I looked away from her, tail lashing uncomfortably. 'I'm f-fine.'

'No you're not.' Myst's tone was, unusually for her, somewhat harsh. 'You always try to lie when you're feeling sad 'cause you don't want me to feel that way, too, but I can tell. It makes me sadder when you lie to me, you know.'

'I—what?' I looked over at her again. 'I… It does? Myst, I…'

'You've been crying.' The Vulpix sniffed. 'I can smell the salt.' She stepped forward, pressing against me, filling me with gentle, unobtrusive, relaxing warmth. 'You've been like this all day, big brother… Cooped up in here, staring out the window at the snow. Ren's been worried about you, too.'

I shuddered.

'Why don't you ever tell me?' I could no longer see her eyes, of course, but her voice once again had that ever-so-slightly disapproving tone, and coming from her—from the most polite, quiet little Vulpix ever—it felt even harsher than it might have from someone else. 'Why don't you ever tell anyone? You just go off by yourself and you keep quiet and you suffer, and, and…' Now she was shaking. 'When you suffer it hurts me, too, big brother. Seeing you sad makes me sad.'

'You've been hurt enough, Myst,' I told her, forcing my voice to remain steady. 'I don't want to make you hurt even more.'

'That's a stupid excuse,' she said, and again her voice, soft as it was, crushed me. 'That's like refusing to take medicine when you're sick. It only makes you feel worse.'

I said nothing.

'If anyone in the whole world knows that, it's me, big brother. Trust me. When I told you about what happened to me, yes, it hurt, but after that… I felt better. I think it helps when you talk about it, it hurts a lot for a little while and then it heals. When you're keeping it to yourself you're just holding it in, like an Electrode who's trying hard not to explode. It's dangerous and it's not healthy.'

'Myst, I…'

'Even if you don't want to tell me right away…' She moved away so I could see her eyes again; they were shining intensely, and they echoed the plea in her voice. 'Then at least put away the façade, okay? You don't have to show off to me, you know that. You don't have to impress me. No matter what, you're my big brother and I love you. So if you've got to cry, then cry. I hate getting wet, but I'd jump into a river if it made you feel better.'

I was shaking. It was the most I'd ever heard her say at one time, and now I knew why she kept quiet all the time; she was saving her voice for times like this, saving her words until they were needed the most.

'F-f-for such a y-y-young P-Pokémon,' I said, trying to hold back my emotion long enough to say what I wanted to say, 'y-you're awfully insightful.'

Then I began to cry.

She pressed up against me, filling me with her gentle heat, head resting easily on my shoulder as I pressed my muzzle into her back, shaking and sobbing. She said nothing; and oddly enough I was grateful for it, grateful for her simple, accepting, understanding silence. The whole time, as my tears soaked into her fur, she didn't so much as twitch in protest.

Eventually I was spent. I continued to shake, but my tears stopped and I looked up, pressing my static pouch against her and hugging her as well as I could.

'M-M-Myst… Th-thanks…'

Wordlessly, she drew away slightly and licked at my static pouch affectionately, before returning to her previous position. We remained huddled together for what must have been half an hour or more. It might have ended up being longer, except that around then both of us were startled by the sound of someone racing up the stairs. The door to Ren's room was flung open, and Ren himself tumbled in, still wrapped up from being outside. He looked breathless and flushed, and as he pulled his hat off his long, black hair tumbled in every which way. After a moment to catch his breath, he looked over and noticed us, sitting in the windowsill.

"Ah, guys, I'm sorry it took so long…" He pulled off his gloves and rubbed his hands together to warm them. "The lines were awful, heh, that's what I get for trying to go shopping on Christmas Eve…" He inhaled. "But I think it'll be worth the wait! I think all of you will like what I got you, especially you, Diego—" He broke off, noticing for the first time my somewhat sullen appearance. "Oh, buddy, what's wrong? It's… Oh, man…" Hurriedly he shed the rest of his outerwear and raced over to the windowsill, grabbing me and holding me tightly to his chest. "It's the snow, isn't it? I'm sorry, bud, I know, I should have never left you alone…"

Behind me, I half-heard Myst drop to the floor and walk away, content that I'd be fine with Ren around.

"I know you hate it, bud, I'm so sorry, I could've at least shut my blinds or something, huh?" His hand was tracing patterns on my back. "But it looks like Myst was doing a good job keeping you company. Heh, she's good at that, isn't she, Diego? That warm little ball of fur… Whenever she curls up with you, you feel so happy and calm and relaxed. She's really grown up, too, hasn't she? Hard to believe she's still less than two years old…"

He rambled on, talking about nothing, really, speaking whatever came to his mind, as he was wont to do. I didn't care; it didn't matter to me what he said. The sound of his voice and the feeling of being held tightly and securely by my Trainer—my real Trainer, my loving, caring Trainer—was all I needed.

I hated the snow, for a variety of reasons. But I had a family now, a family, with a loving Trainer and other Pokémon. I was safe and warm and I knew I'd never be abandoned again. So I hated the snow, but I loved that winter.