This has been sitting on my computer for way too freaking long and I couldn't resist finally posting a chapter of it. This should be updated with some regularity, at least for awhile. This pairing has intrigued me for awhile, as has this fandom, and I decided I should finally give it a shot. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

I do not own Pokemon, only the plot to this story. Reviews are welcomed and loved.

A lesson Morty had learned at an early age, was that life was fleeting. People you counted on being there, people you loved, cherished, Pokémon that you considered your companions and best friends, they could vanish in a moment. Sometimes, there would be little fanfare. A man would die, passing on peacefully in his sleep, his ailment nothing more than old age. Other times, death grabbed the living and tugged them down, kicking and screaming through a cold, painful journey that would always end the same. No matter which way a person left life, it was always hard to let them go.

Ecruteak had been struck by a plague when Morty was only nine years old. The plague came from nowhere, was not treatable, and did not discriminate. Man, woman, child, elderly, Pokémon of any strength, all fell to the disease. It was mercifully quick. It would start with a headache, followed by a bout of dizziness. Soon after, the victim would slip into sleep, and after three days of not being able to wake, would pass on.

It was in this manner, the Ecruteak clan of ghost trainers almost died out. The clan had produced the Gym Leaders at Ecruteak for years, having been the descendants of the original settlers, and builders of the two towers. Morty was a part of that clan, and the lone survivor of the plague. He spent a better part of the year watching as one by one, family members related closely and distantly fell to the same sickness. He spent most of his time in the graveyard, honoring one or more of his relatives. Always he was accompanied by another, usually his brother or parents. Eventually, it was only his brother and his mom. And then, it was only his brother. Finally, he stood alone, surrounded by the graves that contained those he had held so close to him, with no one for company.

It was at this point that the disease stopped. No more lives were claimed. No one came to comfort the boy, the last heir with the ability to take over as Gym Leader. A boy who had no Pokémon of his own, and had never shown any interest in being leader, let alone Pokémon. It seemed that Ecruteak would have to pass the leadership onto another town. No one was able to coax the boy out of his house, a mansion that had once held all of the clan within its walls.

Four days after the passing of his brother, he emerged, cloaked in black with the badge clipped to the tattered purple scarf around his neck. Beside him were ghost Pokémon that many had never seen or heard of, and it was rumored that they had come from a distant land to assist the boy. No one had ever asked for the truth.

He hadn't offered it either, saying only that he would travel to the Hoenn League and prove his worth as a Gym Leader. He returned within the year, and it was as if he had not changed. The haunted look remained in his eye, and he locked himself within the Gym, fighting and defeating, and on a rare occasion, losing, to the trainers that passed through. For years, this was how things were. The town had begun to rebuild slowly in those years he spent locked away, but they never quite got used to the lack of leadership. The clan had always done their best to manage the town's funds and keep everything in the best shape possible, and yet Morty had never been spotted at a single meeting.

Then one day, six years after the plague, he appeared in the back row of the meeting hall, watching as business progressed with a careful and unreadable gaze. In the following weeks, he began to participate, no more than a sentence or two there, and at first, the town was weary of his advice. Slowly, they began to talk back to him, offering a counter point here and there. Nearly a year after his first visit, a basket of bread was delivered in front of the gym.

Morty somehow knew who the gift was from, and had gone to the house to thank them in person, a gentle half smile on his face. Over the following years, Morty integrated himself further into their society, becoming a trusted leader, a person to turn to when there was a problem, but never did he open up to them. Always he gave his time, but never did he ask anything of anyone else. He had turned into a selfless man. Perhaps he had always been, just never had been able to show it.

No one knew, for no one could get close to him. People had tried. He received pressure to marry and produce another heir, but he always laughed off the suggestions, never taking them seriously. He kept his distance. You could ask him a question, but he'd always redirect, flawlessly, so somehow you ended up talking about yourself without even realizing it. No one was allowed in. Over time, people became content with that. They accepted his need for privacy, happy just to have a new leader who cared.

-.-

Falkner brushed dark blue hair out of his father's face, noting how hot the man's forehead was. He looked to the side and picked up a cloth, cold from the water he had soaked it with. Gently, he placed the cloth on the man's head, hoping to bring down the fever at least a little, hoping that maybe he would awaken from his slumber. His father was the Gym Leader of the Violet City Gym, and when the man had slipped into a deep sleep three days ago, the city had panicked. The man had never been known to be sick, and never had they seen someone slip into a sleep from which they couldn't be awakened.

Falkner drove off the concerned city members though. It was not their business. He could take care of his father just fine. The doctor visited each day, but that was it. He did not want to hear people speaking as though his father was already dead, as if he would never awaken. Perhaps, it was denial.

The man groaned and shifted in his bed, the first movement he had in days.

"Father?" Falkner asked, grabbing the man's hands and holding them tightly. "Father, are you awake?"

The man's eyes fluttered and opened, his look hazy and glazed. "Falkner...you're here."

"Yes, of course. Do you need water? I have some here if you-"

"No, no. I need...I need to speak with you. I don't have much longer," he wheezed.

"No, Father. You'll be fine. You just need some more rest, and some food. You'll get your energy back," Falkner said.

"Falkner, listen to me. This is not...a natural disease. You need to stop it before it grows...you can't let it infect anyone else," he murmured. "Go to Ecruteak. There...they know of this. Tell them what has happened. They can...help you."

"Father, no, you don't know what you're saying. You're delirious from fever," Falkner said, panic rising in his chest.

"Falkner, I have been awake. But asleep. I have been...meditating. It is a waking sleep that I suffer. I could not...respond to you or the doctor, but I could hear you. So I meditated instead, looked deep within myself to...find the source. This is no accident. There is...an angry being somewhere. They want revenge. You must...stop this," he murmured. "I am not long for this world. I must leave you now. I don't have the strength to stay here."

"Father, please," Falkner hissed. "You do have the strength. You can't leave me."

"Go to Ecruteak, Falkner. Do not delay. Leave now. You must learn whatever you can about this," he said.

"H-How? Without you...I'm not ready to be a Gym Leader Father. I can't..."

"Falkner...I love you. I am sorry it has to be this way. But please. Do not be sad. Grieve, but do not delay. There is no time," his father said. "Go. Now."

Falkner stood, swallowing thickly. "Okay. I-I'll go."

He raced from the room, ripping a pokeball from the folds of his shirt. He emerged from the house and released his Pidgeotto, leaping onto her back at once. Panic made his blood roar through his ears as his Pidgeotto took to the air, riding the drafts up and soaring towards Ecruteak. His mind was racing too fast for actual thought, his father's orders pulsing through his head in a steady beat that urged him onwards.

In what felt like no time at all, his Pidgeotto landed on the ground in a flurry of dust and feathers. He tumbled from his back, ignoring the stares of several of the townsfolk, instead trying to think of where to go, where his father wanted him to go. The gym, he thought. The Gym Leader can help.

He didn't bother returning Pidgeotto to his ball, instead running towards the Gym and slipping through the doors. The gym was bathed in darkness and he almost flinched as he tried to pinpoint where the leader would be.

"P-please. I'm not here to fight. I need to speak with you," he called out into the darkness. "I-I need help."

Before him, purple smoke drifted, and moments later a man stood before him, blond hair tousled and held in some semblance of order by a black slip of fabric tied around his head.

"What's wrong? Whoa, calm down," the leader said, as Falkner began to breath heavily. "Hey now. Calm down. It's alright."

"My father, he said to come here. He's dying...or dead...or...dammit I'm not there. I should be there, not here, but he said that I-I had to c-come here. That y-you could help and I-I...please."

"You're Falkner right? Can you tell me again what's going on? Just take a deep breath, you're alright," the man said.

Falkner sucked in a deep breath, letting it out in a rush. "My father had a headache, three days ago. He went to lie down and fell asleep. He didn't awaken until today. He s-said that he was dying, that he couldn't stay awake any longer. He told me that...I was to tell you what had happened, that you could help. I came as fast as I could."

The man's welcoming and comforting expression contorted into something ugly, anger and hatred slipping into his eyes. Almost immediately it was destroyed. "I can't help. I'm sorry."

"N-No you have to!"

The man grabbed his arm, pulling him forward into the darkness. Too weak to protest, Falkner just kept his eyes closed and tried to calm down, knowing that yelling and screaming wouldn't help. The man came to a halt and when he opened his eyes, he stood in a small bedroom, lit by several lamps and a window on the western wall.

"It's too late for your father. I'm sorry. Did he say why he wanted you to come here?"

Falkner stared at the floor, trying to wrap his head around the enormity of the situation. "He said it wasn't a natural disease. He said that someone is angry a-and..."

He was angry then, because he could feel a hot wetness trailing down his cheeks, and realized he was crying. The man seemed to realize this as well, and he stepped forward to draw him into a tight embrace. Falkner bit his lip to stop the sob that threatened in his throat.

"Let's get you back home, alright?" he said quietly, rubbing Falkner's back.

"What's the point? It's like you s-said. He's gone," Falkner mumbled.

"I...wasn't thinking. Come on now. I bet everyone's worried about you."

"I'm not a little kid!"

The man pulled back, a twitch of a smile on his face. "Yeah, I know. But you're the leader's son right? Gives you special status, huh?"

Falkner glanced away. "We should go. They probably are worrying. But they don't need to."

"I know they don't. You can take care of yourself. You got here alright after all. I'm Morty. Not really the right time for an introduction but," the man shrugged. "Come on."

-.-

Inside, Morty's gut twisted upon itself, threatening to erupt and make his carefully constructed barriers fall to the ground in a heap. He had known, suspected that the disease would return. He had left Falkner outside his father's room, venturing into the darkened room himself, unwilling to let the younger see for himself if his father was dead. He neared the bedside, then lit the lamp once more. Yes, there was the tell tale sign of Walker's chest rising and falling. He was still alive.

"Walker. If you can hear me...please...wake up."

He knelt at the bedside, violet gaze trained on the man's still face, willing those eyes to open. The man's muscles spasmed and slowly, his eyes fluttered and opened, focusing at once on Morty's face.

"Ah. My son was able to get you, was he?"

"He's a very brave boy, Walker."

Walker waved his hand in dismissal. "I have a message for you. I gave it to Falkner, in case you failed to reach me in time. The disease that took your family is back. I do not know if it will spread as swiftly as it once did, but you need to know. It comes...from somewhere in the north. If you don't stop it then I fear of what will happen when it escalates. That is all I can tell you. I hope it is enough."

"You have figured out more than I could ever hope for. I only wish...that you would not leave us yet."

"You should know of everyone how fickle life is. Do not weep over my passing. Do not let Falkner linger over my death. Heal him, train him. He must prove himself to the league if he wishes to be my successor."

"And if he doesn't?"

"He must. He must...there is no one else who can do it. Do what you can to stop this sickness, and help Falkner. Those are the tasks I leave you with."

"I will do everything in my power to succeed. Rest easy, Walker. Your life has been a full one."

"Father?"

Morty turned to see Falkner hovering the doorway. Silently, he motioned the boy closer. He stumbled over, tripping over his feet and finally coming to a halt beside Morty, eyes shining as he gripped his father's hand tight.

"You will be a magnificent leader, Falkner. I have never doubted your strength. Fight well, and honorably. You have...been such a good son. I love you."

"Father, you can't..."

Walker's eyes closed as he sighed. "Falkner, live a good life."

"Father...Father I love you."

Walker doesn't respond, and his chest was still. Falkner's hands trembled, the shivers spreading to his arms and body until the whole boy was shaking. His face was impassive as he shuddered, but finally, the dam broke and a flood of tears washed down his face. Morty swallowed tightly, then wrapped his arms around the younger, pulling him away from the bed and into his chest. Biting his lip, he rested his chin on the messy mop of blue hair as the other sobbed with huge gaping breaths.

"What...what do I do now?" he finally asked into the man's shoulder.

"We have a job to do. But perhaps...a day of rest, then the funeral. After that...we will take care of the things your father has left us," Morty said, not releasing the boy. He had been in his shoes. It hurt to see another feeling the pain he had once felt, and he wanted nothing more than to make it go away. It hurt even more to know that he couldn't. It never went away. Not truly.

Falkner nodded and pulled back. "Okay. I guess. I should...sleep."

"I'll take care of the arrangements. Just go get some sleep kid. That's all that will help right now."

Again, the boy nodded, getting to his feet on wobbly legs. He watched as the boy walked out of the room, and then turned his gaze back to the man who's soul had fled his body. And he cursed the disease that had ripped apart his family, and was now trying to rip apart another. He wouldn't let it happen. No matter what he had to do, he wouldn't let this disease claim as many lives as it once had.

-.-

Two days after the funeral, Falkner found himself standing beside Morty in front of the entirety of the Elite Four, gnawing on his lip as he tried to stay calm. He knew of them, knew that they were powerful and strong, but he had never met them despite his father being the Gym Leader. To him, they were still a legendary force, something he couldn't see himself ever being able to defeat. Which would explain the deep seated nerves that had him practically trembling.

Morty wasn't paying any attention to him, instead conversing with the other members casually across the large oak table. Falkner looked at them, mentally going through the facts about each one. Will was the Psychic user, his face hidden even now by a theatrical black mask, head cradled on his steepled fingers as he laughed at something Morty said. Beside him was Koga, silent as he leaned back in his chair, his stare intense as he looked down at the table. As if sensing him, the ninja trainer looked up and caught his eyes. Flinching, Falkner looked down at his hands, biting his lip harder.

He decided not to look around anymore.

The door on the other side of the room opened, and once again he jerked as the door slammed shut and all conversation ceased. There was a steady click of boots on the marble flooring, the scrape of a chair being pulled back, and then a soft groan as the person sat. A light touch on his arm made him look up directly across the table, settling on the Champion of the Pokémon league; Lance. His red hair was not in the slick spikes from the photos in magazines, but rather a messy disarray that hung around his shoulders. The casual appearance did nothing to sooth Falkner's pounding heart as he looked in the dark red eyes of the Champion.

"My deepest apologies for your loss, Falkner. It is not easy on any of us to see such a great leader pass, but for you especially it must be difficult. We all extend our apologies, and hope that the path forward is brighter for you. Perhaps it is a little soon to ask, but do you intend to take your father's place as the Gym Leader of Violet City?" Lance asked, his voice quiet and gentle.

"I...yes," Falkner said, glancing once more at his hands.

"Good. You will need to compete in one of the Leagues, and eventually face the Elite Four. It does not matter which 8 Gym Leaders you battle, or which Elite Four you challenge. They are of all equal strength. We leave that up to you, and hope to see you once you have completed your journey," Lance continued. "Now, there is other business we needed to discuss as well, I take it?"

"There is something I needed to bring to your attention," Morty said. "Falkner, if you could possibly wait in the hall?"

"No. Let him be," Will said, turning his eerie gaze onto the young trainer. "I think he needs to hear this."

Morty shifted in his seat uncomfortably, but nodded. "Alright. His father was...killed by a disease I know too well. It was the disease that wiped out my family and my village. Walker awakened from his coma briefly in the last day he was with us, and he spoke of a power to the North that was causing this disease. He warned that if we do not seek out this power and destroy it...the sickness will not stop as it did in Ecruteak."

"A troubling matter indeed," Lance murmured, gaze falling to the floor.

"To the North you say?" Karen asked. "Sinnoh is to the North. I can go there now and-"

"No," Morty interrupted. "Walker asked me to do it. I need...please. Let me go."

"With just one person searching, you won't be able to get much done," Koga said. "It would be best if we send a few people, more even."

"What if the source knows we are searching for it though?" Will asked. "If it knows people are seeking to destroy it, wouldn't it work all the faster to accomplish its goal?"

"You speak as if this disease is something of magic. You are jumping at shadows," Bruno murmured from the far end of the table, his hulking form barely fitting in his seat.

"Shadows? Bruno-sempai, have you ever seen a sickness wipe through an entire village as it did only a few years ago?" Morty asked softly. "My family was not jumping at shadows when they quarantined themselves off from the rest of the village. Even that did not stop it. This is no, natural sickness."

Karen made a soft noise, her expression troubled. "I think we should proceed cautiously. For now, let Morty go. We will have someone take his place temporarily at the gym, and if the issue escalates we'll send more people. I think it would be a good idea to contact the other Leagues, make sure they keep their eyes open."

Lance nodded his consent to the idea. "Morty, you have permission to go forward with this mission. Stay in touch with your findings."

Falkner squirmed uncomfortably as the talk continued around him, wondering what his father would think of all this, wishing he had left more for them to go on. He was terrified of what was to come. Why his father? Why not someone else who didn't matter? But those thoughts were selfish, and he knew it. Realizing that only made his stomach roll more, his throat burning from tears.

With a strangled noise he jolted from his seat and dashed from the room, racing down the hallway and around the corner before stopping, tears burning as his back hit the wall. Shoving his palms into his eyes as if that would stop the tears, he sat on the ground, trying to stop the pathetic hiccupping noises that escaped from his throat. So wrapped up in his whirling emotions, he was not aware of the soft steps moving down the hallway until a body slid down to sit next to him.

A slim arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close. With a start, he realized the person holding him was none other than Karen, her gray eyes unreadable as her hand stroked down his back soothingly. When he had finally cried himself out, she stood and offered her hand. He took it tentatively.

"The last few days have been stressful. I'm sorry," she said. "Morty has mentioned that he would like to mentor you, and take you with him to Sinnoh. You can complete your challenge there."

Falkner nodded, unable to summon the ability to be angry that they had made so many decisions without his input. "Thank you. I'm sorry that I ran out like that. I don't know what came over me."

"Sometimes the past catches up with us, no matter how fast we run from it, or how long. It's only been a few days. It gets easier, I promise," she said, the barest twitch of a smile on her lips.

"I guess...I should go apologize to the others," Falkner said, face heating in embarrassment.

"That would probably be wise," she said.

Falkner gave her a quick smile and headed back to the room, head down as he took his seat beside Morty. Karen sat down across from him, giving him a supportive look as he glanced up. "I'm sorry. I had no intention of interrupting."

"It's okay. No need to apologize," Lance said. "We wish you luck, Falkner, Morty. Let us know if you need help."

They both nodded and stood together, offering a quick bow before departing from the room.