You pace back and forward in front of your masters bed. Why won't she get up? The hospital room is dark and foreboding, as it had been for the last few weeks. No one cared to tell you what had happened. The room, that used to be a bright and cheerful yellow, now was a faded gray. The only window was layered over with curtains. You push your muzzle on her bed, whimpering. Your master to be croaks, her hand moving in a fluttering movement to pet you. But even that is too much for her now. You jump onto the bed. Such a contrast, a young girl with straight black hair, face flushed with fever, to a lithe red pup, curling up next to her, if only to assure that the girl is still there. The girl, your soon to be master, opens one large green eye and smiles. Her lips are chapped, you notice. Not a problem for you, and also not a problem that you can solve. Like her sickness.
It happened a few days after you left. She was used to the open air of the village near the water, and didn't know city ways. You did, but you weren't strong enough to help her. Such puny first Pokemon, not even able to fight a Houndour. It wasn't the Houndour that was the problem though.
It was the Houndoom pack.
They hurt her, tore at her, bled her, infected her.
And You couldn't raise a paw to stop it.
Now she was dieing. More people would come in each day, saying words and numbers that you don't understand. You hate these white coated people, although you aren't quite sure why. They can't help, and even You know that. She will get worse and worse, and there is no stop.
Until death.
You leap, catlike off her bed. You shouldn't stay here, shouldn't watch this human in their weakest moments. It is not the way it is supposed to be. You try to nudge open the door. The door is closed. You glare at the handle, which, in the canny way of its kind, doesn't do anything in return. Your ear twitches, so slight that most observers would ever notice it. But It is happening.
The thing Absol warned about.
The flood.
You whine, scratch up the laminate floor. That doesn't work. You have forgotten the rules of the wild. No one would come to your aid when they still have themselves to save. You sprint like a frenzied Pachirisu to the window, clawing at the curtains. They shred easily. You ram against the window, howling your frustration. The window doesn't break. A thin layer of water is coating the floor. You leap down onto the floor. The water sends shafts of pain up your paws. You yelp and jump back onto your masters bed. She needs to wake up. She needs to. She knows how to persuade the latch to let her out, as all humans do. She opens her eyes. Confusion. She tries to hit a button on the stand next to her bed, but she doesn't have the strength. "Lya" She croaks. You smash the button with both front paws. Nothing happens. The water is winning the battle, the bed is floating like a boat. You whimper, shoving your face under her armpit. You wanted to rise in fire, maybe even evolve, you wanted to be champions. You and her. But you both will go down in water. You had envisioned the final battle many times, before she had gone past the point of no return. It was always you against the opponents water type Pokemon. You would have evolved, majestic in your own power, and would have beat that water Pokemon, even with the type disadvantage. You could have been a champion, like others had dreamed they could be. If the girl reached up, she could have touched the ceiling. But she didn't. The girl used her last remaining strength to hold you close. The ceiling was brushing your head. She whispered something in your ear that you wouldn't ever forget, if you lived or if you died here and now.
"We could have been champions"