Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon.

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Chapter 1: Plots and Plans

The lab was rather noisy that morning, as usual. It was breakfast time for a certain trio of pokémon in the lab, and they always seemed determined to be as loud as possible. If it wasn't the totodile trying to start a food fight, it was the chikorita chattering away nonstop, or else it was the cyndaquil crying because the totodile was trying to take her food. Often it was all three at once.

The boy in charge of feeding the pokémon obviously wasn't bothered by the din. Currently he was sitting on the smooth tile floor, stroking the miserable cyndaquil in his lap. Meanwhile, the totodile danced in circles, chanting "Toto! Toto! Toto!" at the top of his lungs. The chikorita cast a wary glance at the blue reptile before scooting his bowl away and scarfing down the rest of his breakfast. Such was a typical day at the New Bark Town Laboratory.

The boy holding the upset young pokémon didn't exactly look like a very capable handler. He was scrawny and pale, and his messy black hair did no favors for his washed-out complexion. He was nearly fifteen years old, but his small stature made him look closer to twelve. His brows were narrow and arched, giving his mostly open and friendly face a slightly haughty appearance . He looked less than capable, even he would admit. Most of the other lab assistants were surprised he was even hired, but the professor needed all the help he could get.

It was a good thing the boy took to pokémon care like a goldeen to water. He was a willing and hard worker, and the pokémon seemed drawn to his presence. It also freed up the professionally trained staff for the more technical work.

Calm downCyndaquil.We have more food, you know, the teenager thought, hoping to appease her.

That food is stupid. I want mine back! Gold, make him give it back! the fire-type replied unhappily, projecting her thoughts back at at him.

Gold couldn't help but give a soundless laugh—or soundless to his ears, at least. What do you want me to do, make him barf it up? He replied snarkily.

Cyndaquil shot him a disgusted look out of her squinty eyes. That's disgusting. She wrinkled her snout. Fine, get me more. I'm hungry. She sniffled pathetically for effect.

Gold rolled his eyes as he got up from the floor, still holding the furry pokemon, and made his way towards the food bin marked Small Fire-Types. He refilled one one of the feed bowls and placed her on an examination table where she could eat in peace, and all was well. At least for now.

Gold looked around the lab. The place was very tidy (with the exception of his boss's desk), and along the walls, there were many shelves filled neatly with a variety of interesting things; reference books, research papers, specimen jars, and different types of poké balls, just to name a few. There were several doors that led to different rooms that required special permission to enter. The center of the laboratory was open and spacious, giving the place an airy feel.

As he put the feed bowls away and swept up some crumbs from the floor, Gold felt grateful to work here and be around so many pokémon, even if he only cared for three of them. Still, he often wondered . . .

Suddenly, the lab door swung open and a harried-looking man in a lab coat stumbled in. He was carrying a stack of folders under his arm, a notepad and pen in his hands, and a cellphone on his shoulder. His glasses were crooked and looked close to falling off. He precariously made his way towards his desk, which was unfortunately on the far end of the lab. He was talking on his phone and jotting down notes at a rapid pace, all while trying to not trip over his own feet.

"Yes, I'd be delighted—oh, of course—would tomorrow work? I can have someone there by eleven—thank you so much, Mr. Pokémon, I'm looking forward to seeing it—" It was all going so well, he was ten feet from the desk and hadn't dropped anything yet, just a few more steps. . . .

He tripped.

The man in the lab coat went down with a very loud thump, as pen, papers, and phone went flying. He dived towards his phone and fumbled with it for a moment before having firmly back in his hands. He stuttered apologies into it, not even bothering to get up off the floor. After several moments of asking and answering questions, note writing, and more apologies (all while lying on the floor), he hung up with a sigh of relief.

Getting a hold of Mr. Pokemon was no easy feat; the man had a busy schedule, and regularly traveled to far regions. He had just flown in from a four-month Sinnoh visit, and was only staying several weeks back home before setting off again. All in the name of a hobby—or at least that's what he called it. More of an obsession, in many a person's opinion. But regardless, Mr. Pokémon sometimes made some spectacular discoveries, and many professors were eager to study his findings.

Gold was just corralling the trio of young pokémon in their indoor pen when he looked up and saw what had happened. He rushed over and began to collect the papers together, resisting the urge to smile ruefully; when working for Professor Elm, scattered notes and documents were regular occurrences. Nearly anything he held was in immediate danger of falling from his arms. Gold always held his breath when the man held any pokémon, but by some miracle, he never dropped those—at least to Gold's knowledge.

"Thanks," the professor said, speaking and making a hand gesture at the same time probably hoping it was the right sign (it wasn't). But Gold could usually get by on lip reading, so it really didn't matter.

Gold gave a short nod in response. 'Who was on the phone?' he asked.

Elm finally got up from the floor and rubbed his aching head a moment before replying. "That was Mr. Pokémon," he said, guessing correctly what Gold had said. "He has an egg he wants me to look at. He says it could be a rare species. I'm picking it up from his house tomorrow."

Gold smiled and gave a congratulatory thumbs-up, but he was suddenly reminded of his problem and felt a stab of self-pity. If he thought there was any sort of chance of his mom allowing him, he would've offered to run the errand himself. He rarely ventured away from his hometown, and never without an escort. His mom was nervous even having him work for the professor, let alone him being near wild pokémon. Getting her to let him work in the laboratory had taken weeks, and that was after the assurance from Elm that all the pokémon Gold would be working with were very tame.

Gold wondered why she worried that much. She knew perfectly well how he communicated with pokémon, but that knowledge didn't seem to matter to her. It was ridiculous, in his not-so-humble opinion.

"Gold?"

Gold was broken from his train of thought by a light tap on the arm. Professor Elm was looking at him in concern. "Are you okay?"

He nodded distractedly. 'I guess my shift is over. I'd better head home before Mom worries.'

The Professor smiled in understanding. "A lot of moms are a little overprotective of their kids," he said, signing a few words. "She'll come around."

But Gold's had different thoughts on the matter.I wish.

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It was about seven o' clock in the evening when Professor Elm knocked on the door of the Heart household. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He didn't like to meddle, but his conscience wouldn't leave him alone. His own parents had been less than approving about his career path as well. Elliott, they would say, we're your parents, and we know what's best for you. We're just trying to help you.

As he waited at the door, he thought about what he was going to say. Nothing came to mind at the moment. But he supposed he could wing it.

The door opened to reveal Gold's mother. Mrs. Heart was an attractive woman, with shoulder-length chestnut hair held back with a pink headband, bright brown eyes, and a very shapely figure. She looked nothing at all like Gold, and Elm supposed he took after his father in looks. Not that he'd ever ask—he'd heard very little about Mr. Heart, and none of it was good.

Mrs. Heart smiled upon seeing him. "Oh hello Professor! I haven't seen you in a while, how's everything?" she said, ushering him inside.

"Um, yes, everything's wonderful!" Elm said, stammering slightly. Winging it was definitely a bad idea. "Well, not exactly everything. I mean it's . . . um . . . I was thinking about . . . you see, I wanted to talk to you about Gold—"

"Did he do something wrong?" Her eyes widened. "Did one of the pokémon hurt him? I knew I shouldn't have let him work there!" She looked distraught. Gold looked fine when he came home! Was she that unobservant? Was she such a horrible mother that she didn't notice anything was wrong? Was—

"No, it's nothing like that! He's doing find. I just had a favor to ask."

Mrs. Heart looked relieved. "Oh, thank goodness," she said, putting her hand to her chest. "Don't worry me like that." Elm was about say that he wasn't trying to when she continued. " Well, I'm sure Gold would be happy to help. What's the favor?"

This was the tricky part. "Well, I need to do some research on pokémon egg a friend of mine has," he began. "It could prove to be very important in my studies." Or it could just be a regular egg, but there was no need to tell her that. "People call him Mr. Pokémon. I'm sure Gold's told you about him." When Mrs. Heart nodded, he continued, feeling slightly more confident. "He lives just north of Cherrygrove City, only a couple miles from here, and I'm supposed to pick the egg up tomorrow. But the thing is, I have a lot of work to do at the lab, and I just don't have the time." (Now came the part where he had to get her to agree with him (he wished he'd asked his wife for some tips beforehand; she was good at this sort of thing). "Gold, on the other hand, could easily head there after his morning shift was over. He could borrow a pokémon from the lab to accompany him. Like I said, it's just a few miles away, and he'd be back within a couple of hours—"

"No. I'm sorry, Professor Elm, but I'll have to turn you down."

Well. That didn't go over the way he wanted it to. "Um, why?"

She looked at him like he was either very rude or very stupid. "Because," (okay, she thought he was stupid) "it's too dangerous. What if a wild pokémon came up from behind him? He wouldn't notice until it was too late—"

"Um, that's what the borrowed pokémon would be for, and besides—"

"What if a mugger found him and—"

"You're worried about muggers?"

Mrs. Heart looked unimpressd."I could go on and on about why it's a bad idea. Besides, what's wrong with sending out one of your aids?"

Elm sighed. "I could," he said, "but I really don't want to." He hurried on before Mrs. Heart could interrupt him again. "It just seemed like a good idea to give Gold a bit more responsibility as an employee, that's all."

"I understand that, Professor, I really do. But this my son we're talking about. You might just think of this as an errand, but he'll think of it as a suggestion to take up training. Then start asking me again to let him travel on his own."

"Would that really be such a bad thing?" Elm asked. When Mrs. Heart raised an eyebrow, he hurried on. "Just think about it this way. If there's good time and place to start traveling, it's right now in New Bark. All the wild pokémon anywhere near here are weak, this country's had an almost unbelievably low crime rate since Team Rocket's been done away with, and—"

Mrs. Heart held up a hand. "Fine! I'll let him run the errand for you," she conceded, and Elm mentally cheered. "But if he starts nagging me about traveling again, I expect you to give him a reality check. I've done it enough as it is."

Elm grinned, pretending he didn't dread the idea of lecturing someone on the cons of journeying. "Thank you, Mrs. Heart!" he said. "You won't regret it, you'll see."

"Oh, you watch, Professor. I probably will." But Mrs. Heart was smiling slightly. It was an anxious, weary smile, but a smile nonetheless.

The two exchanged a few pleasantries before the professor went on his way. As he made his way back home, he thought about the conversation he just had, and hoped Gold's mother meant what she said. When living in a small town where everybody knew everybody, one tended to care about everyone living there, for better or worse. So few places were like that anymore.

A few minutes later, he saw Gold racing towards a house which he knew to be his friend Lyra's, and even in the darkness, Gold's brilliant smile was hard to miss. Elm couldn't help smiling as well.

Things were looking up.

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Silver walked silently through the streets of Cherrygrove City, his head held slightly down. Occasionally, his gray eyes would dart around anxiously, as though waiting for an ambush. Hardly anyone was outside besides him, but all those buildings had windows. . . .

Snap out of it, idiot, he berated himself. He was being inconspicuous. Someone strolling the town at night wasn't all that unusual, and if anyone did see him, they'd forget him in minutes. It wasn't as though he was crawling along on his belly or doing some lame ninja moves like they did in those stupid spy movies. He was just walking quietly. To the regular observer, he looked, at most, like some teenager aimlessly strolling around town. But he had a specific plan and destination in mind.

His goal was simple. He wanted become the greatest pokémon trainer the world had ever seen. A childish, naive goal, many would say, but that didn't matter to Silver. It wouldn't be long until he'd be the one laughing.

But first he needed to actually get a pokémon to start out with. All the ones he would have any chance of catching on his own were too weak to be worth his time. He needed to start off with a pokémon with excellent potential, but one still fairly easy to acquire. He needed a powerful backbone for his band of monsters.

And he knew just where to find one.

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A/N Hello Reader, and welcome to my story.

I'm trying to take the Heart Gold/Soul Silver story where it's never gone before. I've read some very good ones in the past, but they were often one-shots (not that there's anything wrong with that). Or they had Lyra as the main character. Again, nothing wrong with that, but Gold/Ethan is so neglected.

Also, I've seen quite a few excellent fics about mute characters. But I've never seen one about a deaf one. I mean, muteness completely explains why the player character never talks, but plenty of deaf people don't talk out loud either. And come on, who doesn't want to see a Deafie pokémon trainer kick some . . . well you get the idea.

I hope to see a review or two for this chapter. And yes, I know this is not very good. Downright bad, even. But I hope to give good writers some ideas for their own stories, at the very least.

I'm a beginning writer, and am trying to improve, so reviews would be much appreciated. :) This is the first non-crack story I've ever published. At any rate, I hope you enjoyed reading it.