I Will Protect You (Cross My Heart)

Chapter 1

Hi guys! I'm trying to write a story for the first time on this site. Please leave any constructive criticism as it will be greatly appreciated (just be nice about it)! :)

I do not own Pokemon in any way shape or form. This is merely meant as a fanfiction. All rights to characters and material gathered from existing sources go to their respective owners.

Note: This is a rework of Chapter 1. I've decided to got back and edit a few of my previous chapters in the hopes of improving the quality. My hope is that this will allow for better flow overall and a better experience for my readers. :)

A lone figure walked along a lonely path in the middle of the night. His hands were in the pockets of his red jacket to shield them from the cold– a dark blue cap on top of his black hair covering his brown eyes. Swung over his shoulder was a brown bag filled with everything he owned in this world. His name was Phillip and he was on his way to start a new journey – that of a Pokemon trainer.

With nothing to do, he took a chance to look around the land, illuminated by the moon above. Normally one would take the direct path leading through the forest but in his case he had decided upon a lesser known path that went outside the perimeter. With all the wild Pokemon lurking in the woods, walking through it without Pokemon of your own was ill advised – even more so during the night time. However that didn't mean that he wouldn't run into anything since he was so close to the outer edge. The lonely emptiness caused his thoughts to wander inward, reflecting on the events that had led him to this.

Most people chose the path of a trainer because it excited them or gave them the chance to grow along side Pokemon they came to regard as their close partners. Joy, excitement, anticipation, curiosity all burned inside people who took up the challenge of becoming a trainer and, hopefully, a master.

But those emotions were nowhere to be found inside him.

He wasn't interested in making friends - human or not. He hadn't had friends since he was 9 years old and he had no intention of pursuing any lofty dreams. He had never even considered this occupation as a choice for himself. In truth his heart yearned to be alone and separate from the world around him. That's what had gotten him through the years at the orphanage where he had lived until tonight – the night of his 18th birthday.

He recalled the discussion with the orphanage's director before he had left.

"This is chance for you to discover yourself and explore the world that you have been missing," the director had told him the day before as he sat behind his desk. "A young man like you will benefit from such an experience!" he pressed on as he smiled a faux fatherly smile.

Oh please, thought Phillip, what a load of crap. The old man has been trying to get me out of his hair for years. Phillip didn't even wait for the morning to leave. Once he was told where to go meet Professor Sycamore in Lumious City, he had packed up what little belongings he had into a nap sack and left. There was just one reason why he was interested in taking this occupation. "If you successfully help Professor Sycamore with some of his research, he may be able to use that as leverage to convince the Ministry of Public Records to clean up that spotty record you have Phillip" the director had told him with that same fake smile.

When he had first entered the orphanage at the age of 9, Phillip had distanced himself from everybody. Naturally this made bullies at the place look at him like easy game - that was until he had punched one of them in the face – and had "accidentally" gouged his eye with his thumb. The bastard had rolled around in the ground screaming for help like the brat he really was. As a result, Phillip had been confined to his room for three weeks after the incident - they claimed he had gone too far in his self-defense. That was how everything had started. Time and time again he would get into fights with his peers when they pushed him into a corner. He never went out to start fight – but also had no issue with defending himself or ending a fight. Eventually he got the reputation of being a delinquent and the director had applied for his transfer to another facility several times – only to be turned down when his record inevitably got shown to the other orphanages.

When he was 13, he began to sneak out after dark and walk the desolate streets of the nearby town on his own. It gave him peace of mind to be alone, but that didn't last long. Other juveniles also did the same thing but they hanged out in groups and seeing someone alone made them bold.

One night, a group of three teens had walked up to him in the middle of a back alley.

"Hey check this punk out. What's the matter little man? You lost?" They shoved him and laughed at him, all the while taunting him to do something stupid. "Come on! Fight back you little bitch! Or are you gonna wait for your mommy to come and make everything better!?"

One of them punched him in the face, pushing him to the ground. Phillip was just about to stand up and punch the dick back when he saw something silver on the ground. An old box cutter someone had forgotten or thrown away. It's silver blade glittered in front of him, almost captivating him. Something inside him told him to reach for it - to use it. It was the part of him that had grown tired of playing fair with people who treated him like dirt - the part of him that was filled with rage at the world. He reached out and grabbed it in his hand, it's plastic and rubber handle cold against his palm.

His would-be assailant reached down for another blow "Oh I'm not done with you ye- AAAAAHHHHHHH!"

As he reached down, Phillip had taken the chance and swung the blade aiming for the thugs' face. He was rewarded with a scream followed by the sensation of warm blood on his hands mixed with the smell of iron. The boy clutched his face screaming, "MY FACE! MY FACE! OH GOD IT HURTS! IT HURTS!" The other two, seeing the gore, backed off slightly. Phillip got up and faced them. They're eyes widened and both boys turned and ran away followed by their injured companion.

"I'LL FINISH YOU OFF LATER YOU BASTARD!" he yelled as he ran.

Afterward, he had begun to leave the scene but the police showed up before he could get very far. They arrested him and although no one testified that he had attacked anyone as there were no witnesses, it was assumed that he was involved in something considering he had a bloody box cutter on him when they caught him, so opened a file on him. His record, already sketchy, had begun a slow and methodical deterioration after that. He would constantly either get into fights at the orphanage or out in the streets. The only thing that kept him from juvenile hall was that all of the incidents were ruled as self-defense. However, every case also noted that he had used excessive or unnecessary force.

From that night on, he always had knives or blades he could get his hands on stashed away in the area. Eventually he managed to buy a combat knife from an older boy in the neighborhood and had it with him even now as he walked. He had practiced with them at night improving his technique, using online articles on knife fighting for reference - for some reason it brought him a level of peace. The sound of his blade whistling through the night was pleasant to his ears. The fluid movement of his body, focused on making the blade an extension of his being, honed his mind and brought him into his own world away from others.

Coming back from his thoughts of the past, he began to consider his present situation. He wondered why the director had chosen him for something like this when there were other viable candidates at the orphanage. He knew he wanted to get rid of Phillip but sending a delinquent to a world renown Professor in hopes of getting him out of his hair was a little much.

He shrugged. As long as it gets me what I need then what do I care, he thought to himself.

"AAAAALLLLLLTTTS!"

A piercing cry filled the night air and made Phillips' heart jump a beat. He came to a sudden halt, unsure of where the sound had come from.

"AAAAAALLLTTS!" it came again but this time he realized it was coming from the woods on his right.

Phillips head raced through his options. The police? No, that would take too long and how would he get in touch? He didn't even have a phone on him. Getting help from someone? He was on a desolate path in the middle of nowhere. There may not be another person for miles.

A feeling of desperation and fear entered his mind. It was strange - almost like it was disconnected from him somehow.

Another cry pierced the night.

"Goddamn it!" he yelled in exasperation as he ran to the source. From his jacket he took out his combat knife – it's curved and cruel edge glistened in the moonlight.

He went through the outer edge of the woods. As he ran, he could hear the sound of a scuffle in the underbrush.

He was getting closer! Just a little farther!

He came into a clearing and stopped as he came upon what was happening,

The first thing that caught his eye was the large creature standing with its back to him. It had a large body made up of three separate yellow spheres. On its back were four transparent wings with visible veins. It had four thin purple like appendages coming from its body and most noticeably were the two "arms" it had that ended in spikes that he assumed were it's stingers. Finally, on its large bottom abdomen was a third yellow stinger. He didn't have a Pokedex or any sort of reference material but he knew what this creature was; a Beedrill.

But there was no way that it had made the cry he heard earlier - then he saw it.

On the ground in front of it, scared and injured, was a smaller Pokemon. This one had a white body with a round bowl cut of green hair on its head. From its forehead was what looked like a large red horn with a small one coming out the back of its head. He did not know what this Pokemon was but clearly it was in trouble. It was cowering in fear with it's back to a tree. The Beedrill inched closer and closer and raised it's venomous stingers – a menacing buzzing sound coming from it.

His body seemed to move on its own as he ran, quickly and quietly, at the menacing bug Pokemon. It began to turn as it sensed a newcomer – but it wasn't fast enough. Mustering as much force as he could Phillip brought the butt of his knife down on the Beedrill hitting it in the back of the head. It crashed to the ground from the sudden blow and began to twist and roll while emanating a distressed buzzing sound from the sudden and surprising pain.

The small Pokemon looked up at Phillip with just as much surprise at having been saved so suddenly. It's eyes were a shade of red.

"Come on - we have to go now!" He tried to grab the small Pokemon but then he felt a sudden pain as he was thrown away to the right,. Phillip yelled as he slammed into a nearby tree. His right arm seared with sudden pain as he looked up.

The Beedrill had made a quick recovery and was now focused on him. A trickle of blood ran down the side of its body coming from the bruise Phillip had just inflicted. It raised it's stingers and beat it's wings as it prepared to rush him. If it stabbed him with either of those things, he would be finished.

Phillip got up and faced the menacing creature. He grounded himself into a fighting stance as he had practiced all those nights. He held the blade upside down in his right hand at hip level with the edge facing outwards and the tip pointing back. His left hand hovered in front of him with it's palm facing down.

The insectoid creature rushed him. His first instinct was to move away or run. But fighting all those thugs had taught him one thing – making a move at the last second was always the riskiest thing to do, but it gave the highest chance of surprising your enemy. He stood his ground as the Beedrill closed the gap, getting larger and larger by the millisecond.

"RAAALLTS!" cried the small Pokemon. Was it actually concerned for his well being? He figured it would have taken off at the first chance.

The Beedrill was right on top of him as it plunged its right stinger down on him. He brought his left hand outward in an arc and the back of his palm met the outside of the stinger aimed at his torso and pushed it to the side and away from his body. The sudden shift unbalanced the Beedrill. At the same time he made use of the momentum to bring his knife to bear and brought it out in an arc – the edge aimed at the creatures' torso. He could actually see himself reflected in its red insectoid eyes as he did so. The Beedrill tried to move away but Phillip felt resistance as the blade made contact with the Pokemon cutting a shallow path into it's body.

I got it!

The Beedrill pushed him away and flew back 10 meters to place some distance between itself and him. It tried to stand and mount another attack but it's legs buckled underneath it. Blood was dripping from its new wound and it was clearly in pain. With one last angry buzz it spread it's wings and fled towards the treeline.

Phillip breathed a sigh of relief at having escaped with no injury. But before it disappeared into the brush, Phillip noticed a patch of red on its left stinger. He instinctively looked down and as he did his eyes widened. There, on his right side and below his ribcage, was a puncture wound from that thing's stinger. The blood trickled down his side and began soaking his jacket a deep scarlet as it was absorbed into the fabric.

He dropped his knife to the ground and grabbed the fresh wound him with right hand.

He stood there, unable or unwilling to believe this had happened. He fell to the ground on his knees as hot searing pain began to emanate from the wound. His mouth opened and closed but no words came out.

His body went limp, and he collapsed on his back onto the forest floor. Slowly, the feeling in his limbs ebbed away - a result of the poison he was sure was circulating in his veins.

Is this really it? I'm gonna die here of all places? All those fights that could have killed me and I die because of trying to help someone else? He managed a shallow laugh. No good deed goes unpunished..." he thought bitterly.

The moon above him, full and brimming with light, seemed to get fuzzy as a heaviness came over his eyes. Slowly, he closed them, for what he was sure was the last time.

He felt a small hand on his forehead. He opened his eyes and saw the small Pokemon he had saved, it's scarlet eyes filled with concern and worry as it leaned over him.

"Ralts..." it said in a low and worried tone. Tears began to form around its red eyes. He felt them as they landed on his face and ran down his cheek.

Heh, he thought, Why should you be worried? You're gonna live...after all. Go and find your friends... before that thing comes back. I'm done - there's no reason to shed tears for a corpse. He couldn't talk through the pain so thinking that thought was the only thing he could do. Suddenly the small Pokemon shook its head from side to side like it was saying no. He was still conscious enough to feel a little bit of surprise - was it actually reading his thoughts?

In the end, perhaps this was for the best. He shouldn't even be alive to begin with - he should have died that night all those years ago.

A sudden calmness came over him. The small figure over him dissipated into the darkness as his consciousness was lost and he fell into nothingness, giving himself over to oblivion.

Two days later

He began to hear noises cutting through the inky blackness. He couldn't make out anything in particular, but as he strained to listen, they got clearer and clearer. He started to make out words like doctor, treatment, and reports. The volume increased like an orchestra slowly building up to a crescendo.

Am I dead? Phillip thought.

There was something bright shining through his eyelids. He tried to open them, and was greeted by a blinding flash followed by the familiar sight of fluorescent lights on a ceiling. He blinked his eyes in surprise and bewilderment - how was he not dead?

He looked around, and found he was on a bed in a soft-white colored room with a monitor recording his vitals on the right. He was wearing a blue medical gown – his clothes were folded on a chair in the corner. The window to his left was open, allowing a small breeze of fresh air into the interior. His head hurt and his body felt ten times it's normal weight. He tried to recall what had happened before he had passed out.

There had been a scream. He remembered running into the woods and finding that large insectoid Pokemon in the clearing. It had been attacking that small green and white...

"Ugh" he moaned. Everything was too fuzzy in his head to make any sense of what had happened. He sat up and winced as a sudden shock of pain passed through his right side. He looked and saw bandages under his medical gown on his right.

"Oh! You're up!" came a female voice.

He turned to look at the doorway to the room. Standing there was a nurse holding a clipboard in her left hand. She had purple scrubs on and her red hair in a ponytail.

"What happened...?" Phillip asked in groggy voice he hardly recognized as his own.

"I'll tell you, but first you need to lie back down," she said as she gently pushed him back onto the mattress. "Do you remember anything before you blacked out?"

"Just... that I as in a forest... on my way to the city..." he groaned.

"Someone found you outside the Santalune City limits about two days ago," she said, "You were gravely injured and losing a lot of blood. You're lucky we got you in here when we did otherwise you might not have made it. We also found a small Pokemon next to you, passed out as well. From what I hear it was a Ralts -".

"Wait" said Phillip unable to comprehend what the woman was saying, "Hold on what do you mean I was at the city limits? I told you, last thing I remember I passed out in a forest, after getting attacked by a Beedrill. I must have been at least 3 miles away from Santalune when that happened. And what about the Pokemon that was with me - "

"The Ralts." the nurse corrected him. "And don't move so much or you'll open up that wound."

"Yes the Ralts" said Phillip slightly annoyed "What happened to it?"

"It was moved to the local Pokemon Center" she said "From what I gathered it's wounds were serious but not life threatening. How you got to the city is anyone's guess. The only thing we have to go on is that a witness coming home from work reported a bright light suddenly appearing in the middle of the night. When he went to investigate it, he found the two of you on the ground and contacted the authorities."

Phillip put his head down and rubbed it with his left hand trying to comprehend what happened. None of this made any sense. How had he made it to the city from that forest? He looked down where the puncture wound had been. A small red stain had bled through the bandages.

"How long before I can go?" he asked "I'm supposed to meet Professor Sycamore at his lab. They're having me do some kind of research for him."

"I figured you were a trainer" said that nurse as she checked her paperwork. "You should be good to go this afternoon. I suppose you'll want to go check on your Ralts? It should be up and about by now - I'll get you the info on which Center it got sent to."

"It's not mine," he said, waving away her concern. "You should tell them to release it or give it to a daycare."

"Well I think you should at least pay it a visit regardless" the nurse said. "You know it was almost impossible to take it away from you. It regained consciousness right when first responders got to the scene. It was yelling over and over and wouldn't let go of you - it was quiet the sight from what I heard." The nurse checked the machine monitoring his vitals, and scribbled a few notes. "Eventually it tired out and we were able to separate you two. It may have saved your life somehow - either that or you have one hell of a guardian angel."

The nurse left the room leaving Phillip alone to contemplate his thoughts. Why should I care what happens to it now? I saved it and that's that. That's what he thought and yet... He felt something inside him nagging him to go to the center. Perhaps that Ralts had saved his life. It was the last living thing he had seen before passing out after all.

Phillip sighed as he laid back down onto the bed. He could at least go say thank you in that case.

Later that day

The hospital released him that afternoon, telling him to take it easy for a few days. Luckily he had not been injected with any poison when he had been stung and the stinger missed anything vital. As he walked down the sidewalk towards the Pokemon Center he looked around the city. There were sights and sounds all around him - people laughed and talked as children played on their bikes and roller skates. The sun was directly overhead, casting light down on a nearby lake causing it to shimmer as if its surface was made of hundreds of diamonds. Before he knew it, he was in front of the Center where the Ralts was supposedly recovering at.

Well here goes, he thought.

He entered the red and white building. The reception area had a few trainers waiting patiently for their Pokemon to be healed as well as medical staff. He approached the pink haired nurse at the counter.

"Hello" she said with a smile " Would you like us to heal your Pokemon today?"

"No thanks" said Phillip "Actually I'm here to ask about a Pokemon that was brought in two nights ago. I'm told it was a Ralts?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed "You're her trainer! She'll be so happy to see you! The poor thing has been worried all this time. Come right this way."

"We'll actually I-" Phillip began to say but he was cut off when he was pulled around the counter and led down the hallway. Walking down it he saw doctors and nurses attending to all sorts of Pokemon. He saw a Chansey treating a burn on a Bulbasaur as well as Pokemon being healed while in their Poke Balls as they were placed into machines designed to replicate healing energy similar to that from Chansey.

They stopped in front of Rm. 7 and the nurse opened the door, leading him through the doorway. There in the corner, curled up, was the Ralts he had saved. It was apparent that it had been crying most of the time. He could make out dry trails under its eyes.

The nurse stepped towards the small figure. "Ralts" she whispered "You're trainer is here"

The small Pokemon looked up slowly and caught sight of Phillip. It's face lit up with a huge smile. It jumped to its feet and ran to him.

"Ralts! Ralts!" it cried in joy. It wrapped it's small arms around his right leg and held on. He stood there awkwardly – not sure of what to do next.

"You're not her trainer are you?" asked the nurse with a sad smile.

Phillips was caught of guard and stared at her for a few seconds without saying anything.

"How did you know?" he finally asked.

"Well for one thing if you were her trainer, I would imagine you would at least give her a hug upon seeing her or say hello." she said "Also you didn't have Poke Balls or any equipment one would expect a trainer to have."

"But then... why did you let me see her?" he asked.

"Because I know she saved your life. It's only natural to want to come and say thank you" said the nurse.

"So then" said Phillip "She was the one who got me here. But how? She couldn't have pulled me anywhere."

"Of course not silly" said the nurse with a small laugh "She used the technique called Teleport. Though I must say for a wild Ralts at her age to know Teleport is rather amazing. They normally take years to learn such an advanced technique. Ideally they use it to escape from danger. By the way," she said looking down at Ralts "That technique normally only works on themselves or their trainers when they are captured. The only way that she could have Teleported you with her was if she established a mental bond with you."

Phillip remembered that feeling he got when he had been bleeding out on the ground. So that calming sensation before I blacked out was her establishing some kind of link?

"So young man," she said with a smile, "That being the case - I think you two are perfect for each other!"

"Huh?" Phillip didn't understand how she had reached this sudden conclusion. "Wait - you have this all wrong. There is no way that's the case."

"Why not?" asked the nurse cocking her head to the left quizzically.

"I don't even want to do this journey business. I'm being pushed to do it by the head of the orphanage where I came from just yesterday."

"Why wouldn't you want to do it though? It's a great opportunity for you to expand your horizons" said the nurse.

"Look, without getting into too many details, I'm not a person who is fond of anything expect being left alone. I grew up alone, relying only on myself and it's done well for me so far. I'm not looking for friendships or partners," he said, glancing down at the Ralts.

"Hmmm I see," said the nurse "But let me ask you this – what do you stand to lose?"

Phillips only stared at her blankly.

"Well," she continued, "If you really are looking for peace and quiet and nothing else then you stand to gain everything from this journey. If that's your ideal lifestyle then you have it right now from what I can see. But if you go out and explore the world – then there is no telling what you may find. If you don't find anything interesting, then you will be right back to where you're at now with nothing lost expect some time."

"Well yeah but-" he started but then stopped. The Ralts was looking at him again with those scarlet eyes. He was getting those feelings again - and from what he could tell it was... hope.

"I think she's trying to say that she would like to be your friend." said the nurse with a smile.

"I'm sorry but I don't do friends." said Phillip flatly looking at Ralts. Ralts tilted her head downward. It let go of his leg and began to cry. A sudden rush of sadness and pain came into his mind.

Oh great he though It's bad enough I'm in this situation and now I feel like a prick for just being honest. Plus she's in my head now...

"Hey now..." he said as gently as he could kneeling down to Ralts. He patted its head trying to calm it down. "I'm sorry, but you'll be better off with your friends and family than with me. Trust me - that's the truth."

Ralts looked at him and sent more emotions into his mind. Pain, fear, confusion, yearning, and finally... the sense of loss. That one made him took him aback for a second.

"Actually" said the nurse "We think that she may have lost her family that night."

Phillips' eyes widened as he looked up at her.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Ralts never live alone. They tend to live in small groups at least. But you found her all by herself. Her family may have accidentally left her behind without realizing it when they were attacked by that Beedrill. And if there was some confusion during the event, then they may not even know how to get back to the location where they got separated from her because they wouldn't remember it clearly. In short – you're all she has left now."

He hated to admit it - but that whole spill she just gave him really hit home. He knew what it was like - to have everything and everyone you knew and loved suddenly torn away from you. It was painful - so much so that words could never do it justice. He would never wish it on anyone, especially the poor creature standing in front of him now.

"Okay," he sighed. "At the very least I can take you to Sycamore. If anything I'll leave you in capable hands with him. So for now you can stick with me if you'd like."

The Ralts smiled brightly and cried a joyful call.

"That's fantastic!" exclaimed the nurse "Oh! Silly me I never introduced myself." She held out her hand "I'm Nurse Joy"

"Phillip" he replied back shaking her hand.

"Well Phillip if you don't mind can you do me a little favor?"

Phillip looked at her questioningly "Sure what is it?"

"Catch!" suddenly Nurse Joy threw a ball at Phillip.

"What the hell-?!" he exclaimed as he caught it out of reflex.

Before he could say anything Ralts appeared right next to the red and white ball in his hand in a flash of light. It hit the button at it's center. A beam of red light emerged from the ball as it opened and covered Ralts – she disappeared into the ball and it closed. Phillips eyes just stared as the ball shook three times in his hand and finally made a pinging noise declaring that it had locked itself.

"What the hell just happened and why the hell did you do that for!?" he exclaimed looking at the nurse.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Joy in an acting tone so obvious any two-bit moron could catch on "It seems that Ralts was just captured by that PokeBall!"

"So it belongs to you... Right...? I mean that was your ball and everything...?" asked Phillip, trying to keep his outrage in check behind a fake, awkward smile.

"Well, since you were the last one holding the ball, it was tuned in to you. So that means Ralts is now your Pokemon! Isn't great?!" she said turning to leave.

"Wha-? Hold on! What am I supposed to do?! I don't even know the first thing about taking care of it!" exclaimed Phillip.

"Well first you can start by calling her Ralts not 'it' " said Joy. "Better yet give her a name. And secondly just try talking to her - Ralts are psychic Pokemon after all. Even if she can't speak to you with her voice she will know what you mean if you try and reach out. Anyway - I'm sure you two have a lot of "talking" to do so I'll leave you to it!"

She left with a mischievous grin on her face like a Cheshire cat leaving Phillip dumbfounded.

I did not just get played like that! he thought angrily to himself. He looked at the ball in his hand with a bewildered expression on his face pondering what to do next. He pushed the button and in a flash of red light Ralts came back out.

"Ralts!" she exclaimed. She ran to him and hugged his leg again with her small arms. She buried her face into his pant leg.

"Wait – but I-" Phillip could only make a few broken phrases as he stared at the small Pokemon hugging his leg. Ralts looked up at him with loving eyes – a huge smile lighting up its face.

He could only stare back in utter disbelief at what had happened.

Whether he liked it or not – Phillip had now become a Pokemon trainer.

End of Chapter 1