A/n I don't own pokemon.
He was anxious. Outside was a sea of white, everywhere. It looked like someone had taken some white-out and blurred the line between sky and snow. He hoped she'd make it all right. She visited every day, and he didn't want this to be an exception.
His mother peeked into his room, eyes of concern sweeping over the room, then landing on her invalid son. "Wally," she said quietly, eyebrows furrowing. "I don't think May is coming today. It's an awful lot of snow to get through from Littleroot to Petalburg, dear."
He shook his head slowly, gaze still glued on the window from his bed. "She always comes. She's on her way now, I can feel it." His mother sighed and left. May was his guardian angel. She had been, all those years ago, when he'd gotten ambitious and struck out on his own, with only his pokemon as support. When he came back to Petalburg, he was applauded for his efforts. He was, in his own way, a little hero, representing all that someone could do, even with their weaknesses.
He had remained strong all throughout the years, with May and Brendan as his close companions. However, something snuck up on him silently just that past year. He hadn't expected a reappearance of what had confined him to his bed. He was just gaining his strength, almost up to the level of a perfectly healthy person when it hit. It hit harder than it ever had before, but he bore it as well as he could. So long as May continued her daily visits, he felt that he could hold up. He'd hold up for her.
Wally, despite now being sixteen, retained a good level of childlike innocence. He thought good of most people, never once considered ulterior motives, and remained hopeful, even when the situation was dire, at best. That was the other thing keeping him going; the belief that he would not only get better, but that he could become strong, and live out a full life. It was a dream that made him smile through the pain. So he was sure, without a doubt, that May would come. Yes, there was a speck of color breaking through the haze! It- it wasn't May. It was one of those doctors.
Too many had come for him to count, or know personally. Men, women, from all different places, and all different areas of expertise. They all had something in common, though. They would take one glance at him, shake their heads, then pull his parents aside to speak with them privately. He wished that, for once, they would talk freely in front of him. How bad was this illness he had? It couldn't be that bad . . . could it? May always told him to hope for the best, so that's what he would do. They were probably overreacting.
His parents had considered sending him back to Verdanturf, but between Wally's pleas to stay within an easy distance of his friends and the doctors insistence that he was too weak to be moved, Wally was allowed to stay. He wouldn't have gotten better if May wasn't with him. He was sure of it. She had laughed a bit when he told her that and tried to tell him otherwise, but he wouldn't hear of it.
The doctor walked in. "Hello, Wally, how are you today?" he questioned briskly.
"All right," he replied, eyes holding their place. "But not quite. May hasn't come to visit."
"Ah, your friend? Well where does she live?" the doctor asked, taking his blood pressure as the conversation continued.
"She lives in Littleroot Town. She always comes. I think she might be a little late today, though."
The doctor wrote something on a sheet of paper. "I highly doubt she'll be coming today, boy. The snow is too thick to get through."
"But she has her pokemon with her! She'll come." For the first time that day, he turned his attention from the window and looked directly at the doctor. His eyes were not the eyes of someone who was bedridden for months on end. They shone with the fire and passion of someone speaking with conviction. The man smiled a bit.
"Perhaps she will. You have some fire in you, don't you boy?"
Wally turned away. "I suppose."
The doctor took his temperture. At that, he scowled and left the room, with a faint, "Goodbye, Wally," at his departure.
The boy listened closely to see if he could hear anything the doctor said to his parents. "Fever . . . worse . . . medication . . . hospital . . . specialist." Those were the only words he could pick up, all of them his least favorite words. He hoped dearly that he wouldn't have to go to the hospital again. Everything was so . . . clean, there. Nothing felt real, or earthy. He couldn't look out his window, and wasn't allowed to do anything for himself, even eat. They never asked him for his say in things; come to think of it, no ever really did, save for May and Brendan.
And he knew his fever wasn't getting worse. He'd had more fevers in his lifetime than a doctor has patients. He'd know if his fever was getting worse. In fact, he was beginning to feel better. He felt stronger at the moment, almost as if he could leave his room and go join the great, white world outside his window. He let his eyes close for a moment. Where was she? She was coming still, right? 'Of course she is,' he said to himself, eyes open once more. 'She's never once missed a day.'
"Hello, Wally." He turned quickly to the door. It was May! He hadn't seen her walk up, but that didn't matter. She was here!
"M-May! I knew you'd come. Everyone said you wouldn't, but here you are."
May grinned. "I would never miss a day, Wally." She walked over to his bed and sat in a nearby chair. "So how are you feeling today?"
He studied her for a moment. She didn't look like she normally did . . . but that was all right. He couldn't place exactly what looked different, however, he was sure everything was all right. "Better, now that you're here." He mustered a smile. She took his hands gently.
"Aw, Wally . . ."
"Hey May, will you get me Gardevoir's pokeball? I think maybe-"
She frowned. "What about me? Wally, I'm here right now." She knelt beside the bed. "I'm here."
He was a bit confused, but she spoke so tenderly to him that he didn't bother questioning her. "O-okay. So . . . did you have a hard time getting here?"
She cocked her head. "Why would I?"
"Because of all the snow."
May laughed. Wally imagined that was probably what sunlight sounded like. "What snow, silly?"
"Why, all the snow outsi-" He stopped. Upon looking outside, he saw that she was right. There wasn't any snow outside at all!
"Isn't it beautiful out? All the flowers are growing nicely, and it's so green!" He gaped at the world outside.
"What happened to the snow?" he breathed.
"There was never any snow. C'mon, let's go outside." He looked back at her. Somehow, she looked more regal than before; more beautiful, but slightly . . . colder, maybe?
"I can't go out, even if it is warm out. I'm sick, May." The girl laughed again. He loved it when she did that.
"Oh, I'm sure you're feeling well enough to come out. Please, please come with me?" Her eyes echoed her heart's pleas, and Wally was powerless.
"Well . . . all right." He paused. "You're going to have to help me out of bed." He was dressed how he normally was. He didn't like staying in his night-clothes all day. It was as if those were simply a reaffirmation that he was confined to his bed.
She obliged and took his hand. As he got up, he felt stronger. "We're going to have to slip past your parents and the doctor, but that shouldn't be a problem." The two walked out of the room, and every step Wally took made him feel more rejuvenated.
He felt the best, though, once he made it outside, beyond the anxious eyes of his parents and the frustrated sighs of another doctor. He was with May, in some sort of wonderland, seemingly invented just for them. And he loved it.
She led him along the banks of a cool stream, rippling in light and color. A warm breeze brushed lightly against his skin. He felt new again. The flowers were in full bloom, echoing the sun's rays in vibrance and hue, and they felt as soft on his bare feet as a light, gentle spring rain. Truly, this was some sort of miracle. An early spring, and a sign of his recovery. They wandered around the forest paradise, stopping now and then to observe a pokemon nesting with its young. Wally had always known about this marvelous outside world-in fact he'd explored as much as he could when he was younger-but this seemed so much like a dream.
"M-May . . ." he began. The two sat beneath a willow tree, beautiful, flowering branches acting as a veil between them and the land beyond.
"Yes?" Her eyes had a different look about them. Wally didn't think deeply into it, though. It would ruin the moment.
"I think that- um, well . . . y-you-" He wasn't able to finish his thought. She scooted closer to him and wrapped her arms around him, gazing deeply into his eyes. His words caught in his throat.
He gasped for air, but not for lack of health. He had never been that close to May-to any girl-ever.
She ran her fingers through his hair, loosing her arms from him, and then gently making him lie down in the heather.
"May . . ."
She smiled kindly, but still, looked . . . different. "Yes, Wally?"
"I-I was just thinking . . ." He closed his eyes. "t-that it would be nice if life could be like this forever."
She brought her face up close to his. "Sometimes, Wally . . . if you want something so much," she breathed, "and you're willing to give up anything to gain it, well, things can give way to your wildest dreams. Perhaps . . . perhaps we can be like this forever."
With that, she let her lips touch his, and he felt those last drops of pain wash away.
Wally's mother allowed a hint of a smile reach her face as she heard the answering machine turn on. Her son must be sleeping, she considered. With that, she crept gently out of the hall.
"Hi, Wally, it's me, May." There was a pause. "Listen, I . . . I'm not going to make it today. There's too much snow, and my parents won't let me leave the house." She let out a bitter laugh. "Me, a past Hoenn Champion, not allowed to travel a few miles in some snow to see her best friend." May sighed. "I'm really, really sorry . . . I'll probably be able to come tomorrow, though. I swear I won't miss another visit." She stopped talking. When she finally spoke again, her voice was choked up. "W-Wally . . . You're in a pretty bad fever right now . . . the doctors say it's the worst one you've had yet. So you might not hear any of this. M-maybe . . . maybe you're dreaming right now. Well, I don't want to wake you, and for all I know, you won't even be conscious enough to understand what I'm saying, but I hope you do."
She coughed. "I feel awful for missing a visit, Wally. I hope you can forgive me." She sounded so much like she wanted to say something more, however, the hurried ending turned out like this,
"Goodbye, Wally." She hung up.
The next day, May was all ready to go to Wally's house. "I'm going now, Mom! Goodbye!" She exited her home, but was stopped by a hurried Brendan who nearly ran into her.
"May!"
"Oh, hi Brendan! I'm going to go visit Wally, you can come if you'd-"
"Don't bother." The boy looked horrified and downcast. She inspected him more closely and saw tears running down his face.
"What happened?" May demanded. After receiving no reply, she grabbed ahold of Brendan's shoulders. "Tell me!"
He rose his eyes to look into hers. "Wally's dead, May."
She felt her heart leap into her throat, and she let her knees collapse beneath her weight.
"They found him lying in the snow, about a mile from his home. He froze to death."
She felt nothing for six glorious seconds. Then it all hit her, a freight train in full motion, momentum shaking her world from top to bottom. She knew something would happen when she missed a visit. Burying her face in her hands, she let the tears drop to the ground, crystallizing quickly. She'd known his time may have possibly been quite soon. But the worst realization was the fact that she hadn't gotten to say goodbye.
And to think, he'd probably never heard her message. All blame suddenly shifted to her, at least from her viewpoint.
"I killed him!" she gasped, sobbing violently. Brendan knew better than to try and comfort her. She wouldn't want that. Not from him. "I-It's m-m-my fault!"
He wanted to reach out to her, convince her that she wasn't to blame, but only one person could ever convince her otherwise, and that person was the dear, departed, late, wonderful, Wally.
A/n This story is partly due to a smidgen of inspiration from the fanfic Lake Verity by AnonOrange-FFA. If you've read both, you can see they're a bit alike, but not really, but just enough that I feel I should thank Anon for the wonderful story and inspiration-giver anyways. ;)
Finessefully,
X
