Hello and welcome to this, my first attempt at a fanfic! I would like to start that by stating that I do not, nor most likely never shall, own Pokémon and its affiliated characters. The only contents of this story I claim ownership of are the original characters and the story itself.
Most importantly, however, you are probably here because like me you share a love of Pokémon. I hope you enjoy this story and that it doesn't disappoint you. If you have any comments, please feel free to leAve reviews. As long as you're polite about it, I am always open to helpful criticism. Also, if you think it's great and just want to say that too, then by all means, do that too!
I am, as always, your faithful friend,
Mulierculum
The Pokérus Apokélypse
Chapter 1 - Life of a Researcher
The Canalave library was silent. It was after hours and all the trainers and researchers had long since left for home, leaving the forest of books lying on their shelves, forgotten for another day. How loud they would scream if the millions of pages and myriad of words holding the stories of the universe could speak for themselves; yet utterly silent was this cornucopia of knowledge in the twilight hours. All passersby would have deemed the library deserted for the night were it not for the telltale stream of light emanating from one of the upper windows, penetrating into the outside darkness.
Surrounded by books long forgotten by the ages, Tristan sat with his head rested on the table, his hands burrowed in his thick brown hair. At the unusually young age of 19, Tristan found himself in his last year of university, studying to become a Pokémon Researcher. If successful in his final year, he would become the youngest professor since Professor Samuel Oak of Kanto, whose grandson, Gary, who didn't reach professorship until the (still relatively young) age of 22. Tristan had always been studious. He had spent most of his childhood in museums and libraries and had forgone becoming a Pokémon Trainer in order to advance himself in his studies, instead interning with various professors around the Hoenn, Johto, Kanto and Sinnoh areas. Starting his research career in Pokémon breeding and genetics with Professor Elm of Johto, he had finally decided to settle on Pokémon virology under the tutelage of Professor Sandalwood of the Pokémon Medical Institute, with assistance from Professors Elm and Rowan. Though never officially a Trainer (he didn't even have a Pokédex) Tristan had still managed to befriend a group of Pokémon on his journeys that had decided to join him, most notably his ever faithful friend, Cato.
"I don't get it, Cato." he mumbled without raising his head. "The facts are all here. They've been here for centuries and yet I still can't figure it out." The Absol nestled by his feet looked up at its master and nestled its head into his leg. Smiling, Tristan peered under the table and stared at his faithful companion. Resembling a cross between a mountain lion and a yeti, Absol was a felid Pokémon with dark blue skin covered in white fur, a great ruff of which grew around his neck and chest. The feline face was contrasted with crimson eyes and adorned with a tuff of white fur hanging over his left eye in an emo-like fashion and a single black/blue oval.
Flicking his white fringe out of his face, Cato stared back at his master and long-time friend and attempted to smile, though his efforts resulted only in the quivering lips of a withheld yawn. Tristan chuckled and started stroking the Disaster Pokémon around the fur just above the sickle protruding from its head. Cato emitted a low growl which only Tristan could identify as the purr-like response it was. "You've always been there for me, haven't you, old friend?"
Cato stood up and stretched his front paws out in front of him, arching his back. Pacing around the room, the Disaster Pokémon soon settled again beneath the table where Tristan worked and rested its head on its front paws. "Ab-sol." Cato stretched each syllable out through a yawn.
Tristan chuckled. "Yes, sleep my friend, the hour is late. I have some more work to do before the sun rises but that is no reason why you should not get some rest." Taking this as approval, within moments Cato was asleep, his deep breathing the only sign there was still life in his soft body.
Tristan stood and flexed his hands in front of him. Holding onto a pen for so long had left his fingers dented and the tips stained with blue ink. Lifting his chair and placing it behind him as not to wake Cato with the scraping, Tristan picked up a few books and carried them back to their shelves. He had been working in the library for a few days. A Pokémon researcher, his thesis topic regarding the Pokérus had ground to a halt and had no more appearance of progress than when he started it those several months ago. All the notes he had from Professor Elm of Johto were scattered across his desk, but these seemed to draw a blank as well. The first note simply read "Tristan, I've discovered an odd thing. Apparently there's something called Pokérus that infects Pokémon. Yes, it's like a virus, so it's called Pokérus. It multiplies fast and infects other Pokémon, but that's all. It doesn't seem to do anything, and it goes away over time. I guess it's nothing to worry about. Sincerely, Elm." A lot of use that was. He was shadowing with the team that first put the notion to the professor. The other note read "It seems that Pokémon that have been infected with Pokérus level up better. We're not quite sure why...". Tristan rolled his eyes. Thanks, Professor Elm. Great help.
The Nurse Joy in Canalave City at least seemed eager to Assist. She had lent him use of all the microbiology equipment and use of one of the rooms in the Pokémon Center for his studies, which he used during his waking hours when not buried in the library, though he preferred to sleep in his own rooms which he rented in an old fisherman's cottage by the quayside. That is, of course, when he didn't collapse from exhaustion and fatigue in the middle of his work, which happened rather frequently.
Piling through the history books, mentions of what could be considered outbreaks of Pokérus were there, albeit extremely scarce, and all said the same thing. The Pokémon appears to develop a few blemishes and its performance and effort value increased tenfold during battling. Of course, what science would now classify as a Pokérus was then put down to magic or helpful spirits. As such, many stories had been glossed over by time as folklore or myth. Something troubled Tristan though. All the accounts given to him by Professor Elm and by his own research results were positive. The Pokémon suffered no real ill effects and developed at a greater and improved rate than prior to infection. There were stories though, old stories, long forgotten stories. Stories found only in books whose pages were slowly crumbling away through age. There were stories of an illness that effected Pokémon in much the same way as the Pokérus did but developed into something terrible.
He had only heard of such a disease twice, the first time in a book in the archives of the Canalave library. It had been about eight years before, an eleven year old Tristan had been volunteering at the library over the summer when what seemed like an earthquake rocked the city and caused many books and artifacts to fall off of their shelves. Tristan later learnt that what he thought was an earthquake was in fact Team Galactic activity at Lake Valor. It had been something to do with the legendary Pokémon Azelf who resided there. Either way, all Tristan knew was that he spent the rest of the week checking for damage on some of the older books that had fallen from their shelves and on picking up a dusty leather-bound volume on the history of Sinnoh, the spine had snapped and dozens of pages had slipped out onto the floor. Trying to organise them, an image caught his eye. It was of Sinnoh, though instead of landmarks and geographical locations, the map was comprised of Pokémon, and they were sick. Arceus stood alone aloft Mount Coronet, looking down at the world where Pokémon lay dead or dying, each with a peculiar black mark upon their face. He had asked the librarian, but she hadn't known anything about it and he had largely forgotten about it by the next summer.
The second time he found anything relating to the matter was in the ruined library of the Pokémon Mansion on Cinnabar Island, in Kanto. The mansion had belonged to a Pokémon Researcher by the name of Dr. Fuji and was famed for its extensive library. Every sort of book imaginable could be found in the library - it was a historian and researchers treasure trove. When the mansion was destroyed in the mysterious accident, everyone had assumed the worse. The fire had blazed for days and it had taken the water power of the Cerulean Gym to finally extinguish the flames. He had volunteered for the Canalave Library Association to report on rumours from trainers that although the mansion had been destroyed by fire, the library remained largely unscathed. If the reports were true, he was tasked with acquiring the books for preservation in the Canalave library's archives.
Well, the rumours had proven to be half-true. Compared to the rest of the house, the library was, yes, largely unscathed, but this wasn't saying much. The west wall of the library had collapsed in the heat of the fire and everything in the western quarter of the room had obviously perished in the heat and flames. Whatever was left had either already been looted by thieves or had suffered the past few years at full mercy of the elements, being battered, shredded and waterlogged. When Tristan arrived, the library had been almost completely destroyed.
He proceeded to root through the dirt and filth, but uncovered nothing but mulch and a few broken trinkets, obviously worthless in their dilapidated state and ignored by the looters passing through. However, upon resting on a statue of an unknown Pokémon, he had uncovered a switch in the Pokémon's eye that caused the fireplace to open with the creak that only comes from a long disused joint. Beyond the secret passage revealed a room untouched by the time and weather, lined with books and scientific instruments. It had been like Christmas for Tristan and he spent the day in this secret room devouring the knowledge the forgotten tomes contained. It was here he found the book on Kanto Legends. Reading through, he found himself looking down at a page so uncannily similar to the one he had forgotten from the Canalave library, only this time it was a map of Kanto and Mew was hovering above the map, gazing in dismay at the carnage and death beneath. The sick and dying Pokémon had the same marking too, though more distinct here. What had been a black mark in Sinnoh was now a large smudge that obliterated the Pokémon's face, distorting it completely from view. Of all the books he sent to the Canalave archives, he kept that volume for himself, along with the Sinnoh page, and studied them extensively. That was the reason he had wanted to become a Pokémon Researcher in the first place. That was why he was still here now.
Tristan woke to Cato's wet tongue licking his face. Light was streaming in through the library windows casting long shadows across the floor. Tristan rubbed his eyes. How long had he been asleep? He wasn't sure. Red lines streaked his face from where he had collapsed on his books and the musky smell of old paper still filled his nostrils. "What time is it, Cato?" He asked gazing up with half-closed eyes at his friend.
Cato looked him square in the eyes and simply growled "Ab-sol." Tristan knew what it meant; after 13 years with his Pokémon he could understand almost everything the Pokémon said, though it wouldn't take a genius to figure out what Cato was saying now. It was late. Very late. Tristan looked around the room to see a group of young trainers watching him, giggling. They couldn't have been much older than 10 and their young starter Pokémon were out of their Pokéballs and sitting on the table in front of them. Two of the girls had Piplups and the other had a Chimchar, the water and fire starter-Pokémon for the Sinnoh region; the grass equivalent being a Turtwig. The Pokémon didn't seem to be as interested in the sleeping researcher as their owners did, which relieved Tristan. He wondered how long they'd been watching him. By the length of the shadows he figured the library had been open at least an hour.
Tristan scratched his head. Had they been watching him the whole time? He gathered up the remaining books and placed them back on their shelves before gathering his papers and stuffing them into his leather messenger bag. "C'mon, Cato," he called as he started for the stairwell, his Absol happily pacing by his side. Upon reaching the reception, Tristan headed straight to the small café that occupied the east gallery.
Within taking three steps through the café's doors, Tristan stopped and turned as the entire room was filled with the excitable shrills of the on-duty waitress, "Good morning, Tristan!"
Tristan smiled. It was the same every weekend when Clara was working. "Good morning, Clara. Nice and bubbly this morning, I see."
The 17 year old girl in the waitress outfit blushed, she hadn't meant to shout out so enthusiastically, but somehow seeing Tristan always seemed to make her feel like a schoolgirl again. "I'm sorry I didn't wake you this morning, Tristan. You looked so peaceful I didn't want to wake you. Up so late, too! I saw the lights of the library while I was getting ready for bed. You ought not to overdo it, y'know. You'll only hurt yourself."
Flicking his fringe from his eyes, Cato grinned smugly and looked up at Tristan, his red eyes sharing the told-you-so-attitude displayed in his smile. "I know, Clara. Cato seems to agree with you too. I just need to figure out something with my work. When it clicks, everything will fall into place. Until then, I'm afraid it will be many more late nights for me. Thanks for the concern, though." Tristan reached out and placed his hand upon Clara's.
Clara felt a bolt of electricity shoot up her arm and her heartbeat increase dramatically. Her feet slightly wobbly, Clara quickly turned to hide the deep shade of crimson her face had turned and hurried to the counter. "I have your morning tea, Tristan", she stammered. "Lapsang Souchong. Brewed quite strongly, just the way you like it." She carried the cup with both hands to avoid spilling any with her trembling grasp and after placing it in front of him quickly rushed back to the counter. "I have some moo-moo milk for you too, Cato. You know I'd never forget about you."
Cato bowed his head in appreciation and nuzzled against Clara's legs. He had always liked Clara and wondered how Tristan had never noticed the way she seemed to trip over herself around him. "Ab-sol!" Clara smiled and crouched down the pet the disaster Pokémon. A lot of the people in Canalave city were scared of Cato, in case he brought some terrible disaster down upon the city. Clara had never seen it though and loved Cato almost as much as she did his owner.
"You don't have to do this every morning y'know, Clara. I mean, it's wonderful that you do but it must get really busy here on a weekend; especially now that we're in the holidays."
Clara blushed again. Why must her face go so scarlet every time he even uttered a syllable to her? "I know. It's just, you work so hard here. It's the least I can do to make things easier for you."
"Well, thank you, Clara. I appreciate it." Tristan flashed Clara his trademark smile and Clara felt her knees go weak beneath her.
"I have to go serve some customers now, but I shall speak to you later, Tristan." Tristan raised his arm in response and continued drinking his tea while Clara busied herself with her work.
It took only a few minutes for Tristan to finish his tea before he got up and headed into the customer kitchen. There were already a few trainers in the kitchen cooking poffins for their Pokémon and a Machoke and Abra sat around the kitchen waiting with anticipation for their owners to finish making the delicious Pokémon food. Tristan rooted around his bag for the plastic tub in which he kept all the berries he found. Selecting a few Jacbo berries, for these were Cato's favourite, he started the meticulous procedure for cooking up the perfect batch of high-level poffins.
Cato spied the berries eagerly and impatiently paced the kitchen waiting for them to finish cooking. "Hey, Mister, your Absol is acting funny. Is something bad gonna happen?" A young trainer looked up at Tristan with terrified eyes. The Abra fixed its gaze on the pacing Absol and sent out telepathic waves trying to decipher the disaster Pokémon's thoughts, though its only response was the irritated warning glances Cato shot at it and it scurried behind a cabinet before it could get into any danger.
"Ab-sol!" Evidently terrified of the generally gentle disaster Pokémon, the Abra was obviously the young Pokémon of the young trainer, both being inexperienced and still scared of the world. Pokémon often took after their trainers. Tristan liked to think Cato was much like himself, careful, studious of the behaviour of others, yet kind and mild-mannered. His taste for bitter foods certainly seemed to suggest so and Tristan took every opportunity to share his thoughts with his Pokémon knowing that in all probability Cato shared his sentiments exactly.
"No, nothing bad is going to happen", Tristan replied calmly. He had gotten used to being questioned about his Absol as Cato had never been one for Pokéball living. "Well, I say nothing bad will happen. I think something very bad will happen to me if I don't finish baking these poffins soon, so best get back to cooking!"
The young trainer glanced at Cato's fixated gaze on the stirring motion of the cooking poffins and nodded hurriedly, fixing his own eyes deep into the saucepan in front of him. After a while, a perfect batch of bitter poffins was ready and cooling on the side. Cato impatiently jumped on the counter and started eating the still warm Pokéfood. Tristan started laughing and rubbed his friend's fur above the sickle protruding from its head. Cato tilted his head and nuzzled into the soft caresses, his purr type growl resonating from his locked jaws. "Eat up, Cato. We're meeting Emily at the Contest Hall at noon and you know she'll kill us both if we're late." Cato nodded his head in agreement and leapt off the counter, allowing Tristan to put the rest of the poffins in the poffin case and head out into the city.
The contest hall in Canalave City had only been built five years previously. A Water Pokémon trainer had set up a marine reserve on one of the uninhabited islands that comprise Canalave City. Around that a Pokémon water ballet had been established using the healed and rehabilitated water Pokémon to entertain people and raise money for the upkeep of the reserve. After a few years of quarterly shows, more and more trainers became interested in the aesthetic value of combined water type moves and a water based contest hall was opened where only water type Pokémon could compete for the celebrated Marina Ribbon.
Tristan glanced at his Pokétch, 12:03. Damn. She would be waiting and you never wanted to make Emily wait. "I bet you wish you had a Pokéball now, old friend." Tristan laughed as he ran his fingers nervously through his hair. Cato made a pitiful growling noise and lowered his head. The speedboat was fast approaching the dock and already the silhouette of an impatient figure was outlined on the pier, its shadowy foot tapping to the millisecond.
"And what time do you call this?" Emily leapt into the speedboat as it pulled into the harbour, causing it to rock uncontrollably and the pilot to give her evil stares while he clung onto the sides desperately. She punched Tristan forcibly in the arm and pointed her finger at his nose, eyeing him up and down as he raised his arms in protest and backed towards the edge of the boat. An escape was still an escape, even if it meant plunging into the water. "Just because I won't hit you doesn't mean you're getting off lightly, Cato!" she pointed accusingly at the cowering disaster Pokémon. "There will be no lemonade from me!" Cato let out a simpering whine and gazed up at the female trainer. "Oh alright, Cato; but none for you, Tristan!" Cato leapt up and licked Emily on the cheek. "Aha, I knew it could never be your fault anyway, Cato. It's Tristan who always leads you astray!"
Tristan rolled his eyes and stepped out of the boat onto the pier. "I was five minutes late, Emily. Give a guy a break!" Cato looked at his owner and nodded forcibly.
"You slept in the library again, didn't you? There are still rolls and rolls of text ingrained on your retina. I said midday because it was important, now c'mon!" Grabbing Tristan by the cuff of his blazer, Emily tugged him further into the island and towards the contest hall. Tristan watched Emily closely whilst she dragged him. The 18 year old looked the way she always did; her untidy blond hair falling in misshapen curls around her neck, the same weather-beaten red windcheater undone to reveal a white t-shirt and the short denim hot pants that were 'fashionably' ripped at the bottom. She had new shoes though. He hadn't seen her wearing these red pumps before. He then looked down at his own attire. As always, he was wearing the same navy blue blazer with the white piping, rolled up at the sleeves and matched with a slightly skewed pink, white and burgundy striped bow tie. His white shirt tucked neatly into his light grey chinos and the pointy brown shoes that made it difficult to run, let alone be dragged at Emily-pace. Damn, why was he always overdressed? He glanced over to Cato who had been keeping pace beside him and evidently watching his train of thought. The Pokémon grinned and looked towards Emily. Of course he knew. Cato was his best friend, how couldn't he know? Emily didn't though, and that was probably for the best. Tristan wasn't sure he could survive the torment she'd give him if she had any idea.
The contest hall was situated on a small islet at the rear of the island and backed on to the marine reserve. Only accessible by a wooden bridge carved with intricate patterns of water Pokémon, the building was surrounded by water and seemed the perfect place to host a Water Contest. When they reached the doors of the contest hall, Emily released her grasp on Tristan's blazer and spun around.
"Emily, what's going on? You insisted I come here today, though you wouldn't explain why, and we've been running all the while I've been here and still you haven't said a word."
Emily shuffled her feet and looked up into her friend's eyes. "Sorry, it's just; it's really important and I… I need your help", Emily murmured beneath her breath, asking for help obviously not being something she was used to, or even happy, doing. Cato sat beside Emily and the water trainer began to run her fingers automatically through the Disaster Pokémon's fur, just above the sickle shape on his head.
"What is it, Em?" Tristan knelt down beside his companion and quietly passed him a poffin as thanks for his attempts at consoling the oddly behaving girl.
"It's the Pokémon Ballet. It's the first performance I've been in sole charge of and as you know it's tomorrow. Everything was going perfectly, but my Calypso has come down sick. I don't think it can perform. It's just a cold, so nothing to worry about it, but I don't want to stress her anymore. I can't cancel the show, and my other Pokémon have trained so hard-",
"I'm sorry to hear that Emily, but I fail to see-"
Obviously offended by being interrupted, Emily cast a quick glare at Tristan and raised her voice to almost a shout. "If you would, please, let me finish!" Tristan stepped back and nodded his head in silent submission. Content with her friend's response, Emily brushed down her windbreaker and continued in a calmer voice "Thank you. As I was saying, my Calypso is ill and I was wondering, seeing as you have-"
The sudden thought that crossed his mind broke through Tristan's fear of cutting in to Emily's speech at a terrifying pace and before he could even think he was already blurting out his reaction. "Wait, what?! Hold on! You want my Gyarados to take Calypso's place, don't you? The show's tomorrow, Em! What the bloody hell are you thinking?"
Evidently not impressed with being interrupted again, Emily ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "Is it really that hard to conceive? I mean, we caught both our Pokémon at the same time as Magikarp and raised them together. They evolved at around the same time and trained together. I can think of no one better to take Calypso's place and I think it's the only person Calypso would allow to replace her anyway."
Tristan looked doubtful. "I don't know, Em. Aquinas isn't as docile as Calypso. Do you really think he'll let you train him for a water ballet? I mean, it's a water ballet for Arceus' sake." Tristan pulled one of the Pokéballs from his belt and studied it intensely. Rolling it around in his hand as if attempting to weigh all his options using the small device in his palm as a balance, Tristan tilted his head and made a series of unintelligible murmurs. Growing impatient, Emily grabbed the Pokéball from Tristan's hand and flung it out to sea. Midair, the Pokéball cracked open and a beam of white light shot forth, materialising as a giant Gyarados in the water. "Hey! You can't do that!" Tristan protested, but his remarks fell on deaf ears as Emily was already bounding to the water's edge to meet her old friend.
"Aquinas! Long time no see!" The Gyarados roared in response and shot a Rain Dance attack into the air, showering Emily in a cool mist and multitude of rainbows. "Aha, it's good to see you too!" Emily turned defiantly to Tristan, a smirk spread across her face. "See Tristan? Look at how Aquinas used Rain dance to greet me! He's a natural born performer; he'd be perfect for the Pokémon Ballet!"
Still doubtful, Tristan turned to his Pokémon and explained the situation "-and that's why we need you to take Calypso's place. Do you think you're up to it, Aquinas?" The water Pokémon swam in a tight circle, coiling its draco-serpentine body before releasing an impressive Hydro Pump into the air before following through with an impressive DragonBreath that sent purple flames exploding through the water, creating multi-coloured fireworks in the air. "Um, I'll take that as a yes then." Aquinas roared in triumph and swam towards Emily's outstretched hands.
"You know, Tristan, your Aquinas isn't nearly as tough as you pretend he is. That said, had you ever entered, you'd be a pretty good contender for the Marina Ribbon yourself." Without waiting for a response, Emily returned to the contest hall leading Aquinas through the water gates at the rear of the complex to begin training and leaving Tristan dumbfounded by the rare compliment he had received.
