Hi all, Timeburner here. This is my first fic, so I'm really testing the waters with this one. It's based off an idea I had a while back, and it came back to me as I was reading various other fics. I'll tell you now that it starts off sort of slow, plot-wise, but that's really for you to decide. Constructive criticism is great, as I'm always willing to improve. Last thing, if anyone wants to beta this story, contact me please. Without further ado, sit back and enjoy!
The unconscious boy twitched as the sunlight crept over his face. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he opened his brilliant green eyes, his face a disgruntled mask. Shaking his head in an attempt to wake further, he sat up, confusion creeping into his thoughts. The first thing to grab his attention was his clothes. His shirt was ripped and slashed in many places. The right sleeve of his shirt was missing altogether, while the left sleeve was torn and frayed out at the elbow. Looking down, the boy saw that his pants were much in the same condition. They had tears and holes all over, accompanied by singe and burn marks. The boy wondered briefly why he was wearing such destroyed clothes.
Then the boy realized, as he glanced around, that he had no inkling as to where he was. All that he could tell was that he sat in the middle of a forest clearing. Looking behind himself, the boy realized that this clearing formed on some sort of imposing mountain side. The boy slumped dejectedly in the realization that he was lost. A feeling of hopelessness washed over the boy. He had no recollection as to how he had come to this place and in the ravaged clothes he was in.
Wait a sec, the boy thought. Who am I? The revelation the question brought made the boy's blood run cold. He had no memory of anything beyond waking in the middle of this mountainside clearing. Before the boy's musings (and dread) could get any further, his thoughts were jarringly interrupted.
"Man-Man-MANKEEEEEY!"
The boy's head snapped up to the trees, searching for the source of the cause of the commotion. "What the hell was that," the boy muttered, panting as his heart beat at an alarming pace. Closing his eyes and listening carefully, the boy could hear other, vastly different noises and cries.
"Rrrrrrrrattatta!"
"Nido. Nido nido."
"Freeeeee reeee."
"Pinco! Pinco!"
"Geo—Geodude!"
"Slash! Slash!"
"Skeeaaaaaa!"
The boy sighed in confusion, beginning to calm himself. "What are you," the boy asked, speaking to no specific target, keeping his eyes closed. With his eyes closed, the boy was no longer overwhelmed by his unknown surroundings. The tranquil feeling soothed him.
"Sneasel?"
The boy's eyes snapped open once more, heart rate revving back to its previous speed. The question-like cry seemed to have come from right in front of him. Sure enough, a small, black, bipedal creature with a large feather where one of his ears was meant to be stood not two feet away. The boy yelled in alarm, scrambling back quickly until he hit a nearby tree. The strange creature cocked its head to the side in slight confusion. The boy began to calm himself down again, still breathing hard.
"Sorry," he apologized, not even sure that this creature could understand what he was saying. "You just startled me, that's all."
"Snea…" The creature nodded in clarification, indicating that he could understand what the boy was saying. But it was its vocal response that puzzled the boy. "Wait. Is 'Sneasel' the only thing you can say?"
"Sneasel," the creature responded with a nod, as if emphasizing the point.
"Right. Duh," the boy berated himself, closing his eyes as he face-palmed. "'Cause Pokémon can only say their own names."
The boy stopped, hand still on his face, his eyes snapping open at the unconscious recollection. "Right. Pokémon," the boy muttered, standing, his excitement beginning to build. If he could put the pieces together … "I could spark another recall," the boy thought out loud, staring at the Sneasel at his feet.
The boy wracked his brains, attempting to summon some sort of memory. Any sort of fragment. Finding nothing new, he reverted back to what he already had. "Pokémon," the boy murmured. "The creatures that live alongside humans. But…why?"
Not yielding any better results, the boy decided to move on to his name as he began to pace around, the diminutive Dark-type watching with growing worry. I have to be able to remember something that important, the boy thought desperately. Wracking his brains further, he glanced around wildly trying to find something—anything—that could trigger his name. As the minutes passed, the boy realized, with growing distress, that he couldn't force the memories.
"Damn," the boy muttered, slumping back against the tree, staring at the branches, clueless as to where to look next. He could almost feel the brief hope that had flared at his recall idea drain away, like water from the bath.
"Snea?"
The boy looked over at Sneasel and smiled, touched by the concern the weasel-like Pokémon was showing him. "I'll be fine, for now at least," the boy sighed forlornly. "Thanks for caring, though."
"RRRRRRHYYYYYYYY!"
Sneasel and the boy looked up in alarm as a giant stone Pokémon crashed into the clearing with a vicious roar. The new Pokémon moved his bulky body with little worry, protected by the thick stone armor, thrashing his tail in rage. As the stone monster reared his head, his most unique feature was thrown into even sharper relief. Mounted on his face was a horn. But it was no ordinary horn. The horn was fashioned into a very sharp, very deadly looking drill. A drill that looked fairly worn from extensive use.
"R-R-Rhydon," the boy squeaked out in a terrified stammer. The Rhydon glared at the boy growling menacingly. Under the furious scrutiny of the stone behemoth before him, the boy realized, with a chill through his blood, that this clearing was obviously part of this Rhydon's territory. And he was a trespasser.
"DOOOOOOOOOONNNN!"
As he let out another reverberating roar, the Rhydon lowered his head and charged, drill spinning, heading straight for the amnesia ridden boy. The young man remained immobile, paralyzed in fear, like a dear in the headlights. The boy's mind was frozen, unable to process anything as the Rhydon closed the distance between them.
'What are you doing? Get up! Do something!'
The command echoed through the boy's head. He had no idea where the voice came from, but it was enough to shake him from his fear-locked state. Realizing that he had only seconds, he instinctively cried out the first thing that came to mind.
"SNEASEL! USE METAL CLAW!"
Sneasel leapt at Rhydon claws glowing white.
"Sneasel Snea!"
With a quick slash, Sneasel raked his claw across Rhydon's face. With a bellow of pain, the Drill Pokémon cut off his charge, clutching his face. In retaliation, Rhydon whipped his tail around, smashing Sneasel into a nearby tree. The boy was on his feet as Sneasel cried out in pain. The Rhydon's attention was now diverted to the small black Pokémon, now struggling to get up. The boy felt a sudden *need* to protect the gutsy Pokémon, and, faster than he would've thought possible, he darted in between Sneasel and the stone monster, cutting off his advance. Crouching in a near feral stance, he glared right into Rhydon's eyes.
"Stay away from him," the boy growled menacingly, his voice adopting a deep, hypnotic tone. The Rhydon was unable to tear his gaze away from the boy's, but leaned forward as if to advance further.
"Back off," the boy commanded in the same hypnotic voice. Rhydon glared defiantly, stopping his advance, but showing no signs of backing down.
"I said, BACK OFF!"
The boy's roaring command echoed through the surrounding forest. The Rhydon looked visibly shocked, and took a step back. Then, with a infuriated snarl, Rhydon turned tail and barreled out of the clearing. The boy's heart began to beat at its normal pace. With a sigh of relief, he straightened up, legs shaking as the adrenaline continued to course through his system. A quiet stirring behind him reminded the boy of the Pokémon that had just saved his life.
"Sneasel, are you okay," the boy asked frantically as he knelt down beside the fallen Pokémon. Sneasel sat up slowly, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. He looked up at the young man and smiled.
"Snea."
The boy let out a breath he had been unaware he was holding. "Well, that's a relief," the boy said with a light chuckle. The boy watched with a strange fascination as Sneasel got to his feet and began stretching out his body, testing its mobility and checking for any potential injuries.
"Why did you it?"
"Snea?" Sneasel stopped his routine at the sudden question and looked at the boy, his own question written all over his face.
"You risked your life to save mine. You put yourself in danger for me, a complete stranger. Why?"
Sneasel scowled at him. The boy was taken aback at the sudden ferocity in Sneasel's gaze.
"Sneasel Snea! Sneasel sel sel Snea, Sneasel Sneasel Snea! Snea-sel!"
Sneasel nodded as he finished, emphasizing his point, making the boy feel slightly idiotic. The Pokémon's reasoning was sound, and his case was simple.
No body's that heartless.
It didn't matter that they had just met. In the short time they were together Sneasel had deemed the boy trustworthy and compassionate. Sneasel couldn't have just left the boy in a time of need. Neither could explain how or why, but the two felt inexplicably drawn to one another.
As Sneasel continued with his routine, the boy continued to mull everything over in his head, a feeling of warmth spreading through his body at the small dark-type's presence. The usually mischievous Pokémon was surprisingly compassionate for his species. The boy would be sad to see him go. The realization that he couldn't stay here tore through his gut. Even though he knew that he had to leave and move on to find his memories, it hurt the boy to contemplate the prospect of leaving Sneasel behind.
"So…," the boy began, words catching in his throat. Damn! Why am I so attached to him, the boy thought to himself. I barely know that Sneasel. Leaving him shouldn't be this hard. The boy steeled himself as he continued. "Sneasel."
"Snea?"
The boy felt another gut wrenching pang as he met the knee high Pokémon's innocent gaze. His hopeful smile. Unable to muster the courage to continue head on, he asked, rather lamely, "You have a home? A family?"
Sneasel's cheerful demeanor fractured slightly, his smile faltering, eventually falling to a frown. He bowed his head to stare at the ground. The boy panicked slightly. Sneasel had worked out his intensions at such a small, offside question? Then it hit him. Sneasel didn't have any idea that he was intending to leave him behind. Sneasel was answering his question.
The boy knelt down in front of Sneasel. As tears began to roll down the grieving Pokémon's face, the boy placed a comforting hand on top of his head. "I'm so sorry."
At that moment, any lasting doubts in the boy's mind as to what he should do were instantly eradicated. In the deep recesses of his mind, the boy knew that it was more than mere chance that brought them together. Their meeting was meant to happen. To offer comfort when there was no one left for them or to help each other in their time of need, the boy had no idea as to why fate brought them together. All he was sure of was that they needed to stick together, no matter what.
"Truth is," the boy started, trying to keep his voice level, "I don't have anyone either. If I did, I've forgotten them all." He tapped his temple with his index finger, emphasizing his point. Sneasel looked up at the boy, tear tracks glistening in the morning sunlight, and the boy saw something flicker in the depths of the small Dark type's sorrowful eyes. But try as he might, the boy could not pinpoint what it was that he saw. "Since I don't have memory of anyone or anything, I'm going to find out who I was, and discover who I am now," the boy hesitated before continuing slowly. "But I don't want to journey alone."
Realization dawned on Sneasel's face as he figured out what the boy was asking.
"Sneasel Snea!"
With a cry of joy, the Ice Weasel Pokémon leapt up and hugged the boy tightly around the waist. At that moment, the boy realized what he had seen flicker in the diminutive creature's eyes. Hope.