Pokémon World, Red Version

Fan Fiction by TyphlosionMan

Chapter #1:

A Pure White Beginning

Pallet Town was a small suburban village located just south of the much livelier Viridian City. The residents of Pallet stuck to a certain routine. They liked it that way. When things were calm and quiet, it always made the significant events that much more exciting. A live televised broadcast of a Pokemon battle wasn't normally so special. However, the Pallet Shellder Shack was overflowing with customers looking for a bite to eat while they gathered to watch a particular battle on the restaurant's many TVs.

While the numerous patrons cheered and chanted at the commotion on the screens, the owner of the Shellder Shack was having trouble keeping up with the orders. Jean was a middle-aged woman who still looked especially youthful despite already having an 11-year-old son. She ran the business on her own, but she had her son and an assortment of her own Pokemon to help on the much busier days. Many of her customers commended her for her hard work every day. In fact, she was often featured as the #1 place for seafood in western Kanto, and even Pallet Town's own famous Professor Oak was an outspoken fan.

On such a hectic day for the business, Professor Oak would normally be there for support, but he had a lot to preparations to make and couldn't pull himself away. Jean understood, as what Professor Oak needed to prepare for was a great benefit to her son.

As she filled out orders and added them to the list for the kitchen crew to make, Jean lost herself in thought over how proud she was of her son. She thought about how unbelievable it was that he was already going to begin his own Pokemon adventure. How could her baby boy already be independent enough to explore the world? Despite her doubts, she still knew her boy would exceed expectations. He always did his best, no matter the task.

The tables and booths of customers roared in excitement at something happening in the broadcast. Many of the customers leapt out of their seats. One knocked over his stool, hitting the passing Geodude and knocking the plates of food out of its hand. Luckily, a pair of green vines shot forward from below and caught the food exactly the way it was before the fall. The Bulbasaur that rescued the order passed the food back up to the floating Geodude busboy, who gave the Bulbasaur a friendly thumbs-up.

A cheerful Meowth marched by with the dirty dishes from another table, proud of the generous tip he earned for Jean. He placed the money in the tip jar when he entered the kitchen and passed the dishes off to the Kadabra using its telekinesis to scrub down half a dozen plates while moving them into the dishwasher without even lifting its hands. As the Meowth stepped back toward the door, Chef Quagsire called out to it. Meowth went over and picked up the next order of food going out.

Even at the busiest times, Pallet Shellder Shack always ran smoothly. There was a method and a plan for everything. Just like the town, the Shack had a routine to keep things moving at a comfortable pace. Every human and Pokemon did their part and worked together to benefit all, much like most of the Kanto region.

The crowd boomed so loudly, Jean swore she felt the whole building shake. The match on the TVs seemed to be heating up. Jean glanced around the crowd, looking for the red and white baseball cap she knew so well. Not having any luck, she called out.

"Red! I need you back at the counter!"

"In a sec, Mom!"

As if hearing his voice lifted a veil concealing where he was from her, Jean spotted the hat among the crowd. Red always wore his baseball cap with the brim facing forward, so she knew from just seeing the hat alone that he was watching the match with everyone else. With a heavy sigh and a sterner tone of voice, she called again.

"Red!"

Without any hesitation, the baseball cap spun in her direction and shuffled its way through the horde of excited viewers. Once it reached the counter, Jean gave the boy wearing it a look of dissatisfaction.

"What's the matter, Ma?" asked the boy.

"Red," sighed Jean, "you're supposed to be helping out. If you haven't noticed, it's already late and you've got a very important day tomorrow. If you're not helping out here, you should be at home getting a good night's rest."

Red's usually chipper face slumped a little. He knew his mother was counting on him, but there was too much on his mind to focus on serving food and cleaning tables.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I was just trying to learn something from the battle! Since I'm leaving tomorrow, I want to be ready."

Jean's disappointed look quickly turned into one of admiration. Sometimes it was hard for her to keep her facade of being a tough mother in front of her son. He never needed discipline; he always knew what was right and wrong. He always had his head in the right place, even when he was distracted. She leaned her arms on the counter between her and Red.

"So what did you learn?" she said with a much softer tone than before.

Red's facial expression returned almost immediately to his typical cheerful state as he replied.

"Well, Mark doesn't have the strongest team of Pokemon, but he's an expert at using type effectiveness to his advantage. For example, Bruno's Hitmonlee and Hitmonchan wiped out most of his team, but Mark quickly turned the tables with his Pidgeot's flying-type moves. And when battling Agatha's Gengar, his Nidorino survived the match because it knew the Dark-type move Sucker Punch.

"He's up to Lance now, but I don't think he'll make it. His only strategy so far has been type effectiveness, but none of his Pokemon know any Ice- or Dragon-type moves. Which means his current team doesn't stand much of a chance against Lance's Dragonair or his Dragonite."

Red finished the commentary by tipping his hat proudly. Jean breathed out a soft chuckle and she cupped her hand around his shoulder. "You're as ready as anyone will ever be, Red," she assured, speaking through the lump growing in her throat. She tried to hold back her tears as she asked, "Where did you learn all this about type effectiveness? And how do you know Mark's team so well?"

Red shrugged casually. "He taught me a little before he started his journey, and he showed me his team when he visited back before leaving for the Elite Four."

Both Red and Jean shared a laugh. Jean wiped away a tear and said, "All right, go home and watch the rest there. But the moment it's over, put your pajamas on and go to bed!"

Red's face lit up. "Thanks, Mom!" He went over to the other side of the counter to give his mother a hug, and practically skipped out the back door of the building.

Jean smiled warmly. It was a bittersweet experience for her, knowing her son was leaving home less than 24 hours later. Even so, she knew her son was growing up. He was following in the footsteps of his two heroes. He'd make them proud. He's already made her the proudest mother in Kanto.

...Later that night...

Jean decided to make an extra stop on her way home from work. It was hauntingly dark out, but there was still roughly an hour or two until midnight. She nearly tripped on the porch steps as she walked up to the front door of the quiet home. She gave a soft knock on the door, and a moment later, a woman a little older than Jean answered.

"Good evening, Jean! How was the Shack today?" greeted the woman.

"Hello, Martha," said Jean. "It was very overwhelming, but it felt so empty without you there with us." Jean gave a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry Mark didn't win. But Red learned a lot from watching him tonight."

"Oh, thank you... Why don't you come in?" The woman stepped aside and gestured for Jean to enter the house.

"Thank you, I'm sorry I'm bothering you so late..."

"Oh, quit it already!" jested Martha, "you know you're welcome to visit anytime!" She closed the door behind Jean, then walked past her into the living room. "Come, sit down! I'll make you some of my new tea! I blend it with Green Apricorns, Leppa Berries and Aspear Berries. It'll be perfect for the winter!"

"That would be nice, I'd love to try some."

Martha gave a nod and shuffled into the kitchen. Within seconds, she returned.

"That was fast!" exclaimed Jean. Martha cracked up laughing.

"I had a feeling you would drop by tonight. I made it just in case I was right."

Jean giggled and gave Martha a friendly slap on the shoulder. "You know me too well for the good of either of us." She took a sip of the tea once she stifled her own laughter. "Martha, this is your best one yet!"

"Oh shucks, if you hadn't said that about all the others, maybe I wouldn't think you're pulling my leg." Martha laughed again. She was always sarcastic in her modesty. Not many other people understood the humor the way Jean did.

"Honestly, though! What do you call this one?" inquired Jean.

"Um... Aspearicorn Tea."

An awkward silence filled the room. The two women broke the silence simultaneously with a fit of laughter.

"You can't be serious," joked Jean.

"It's a working title," laughed Martha.

Jean and Martha had been best friends ever since Jean first moved to Pallet Town, before either Red or Mark were born. They were both still in their 20s at the time. Every time they spend time together, they become the younger women they were when they first met.

"You know, if you opened up a cafe or something, you'd run me out of business," said Jean.

"That's why I'd never open a cafe, Jean. We're a team!"

Jean took another sip of the tea, then placed the cup down on the coffee table in front of them.

"You know... Ever since we met, you and I have always stuck together and that's part of how we've stayed friends for so long. But Red and Mark... Mark's almost 14 now and he's been on his Journey for almost a year. Red's leaving tomorrow. Part of me thinks he's doing it for Mark, but part of me thinks it's for his father, but... I don't know." Jean sighed heavily, then laughed as she said, "I don't know where I was going with this."

Martha laughed too, then patted her friend on the back. "You had a long day, and tomorrow's going to be even more stressful. Your son is leaving home and going off to explore the entire region! Believe me, it's not an easy thing for a mother."

Jean nodded. She knew Martha understood the feeling more than she did herself. "How did you deal with it?"

"He comes home when he can. When he does, I smother him the same way I know you will." They laughed again. "All you can do is support him no matter what. Call him when you know which Pokemon Center he's at. Send him gifts. Make sure he's packed well enough to be leaving home forever, but be ready for him to come back home if things don't go well for him. He's a strong kid, Jean. He's a lot like his father, but he's a lot like you too. Saying 'he'll do fine' would be an incredible understatement."

Jean smiled and picked the teacup back up again. She sipped down the rest and stood up. Martha stood up too, and took the cup from Jean.

"No no no, I'll take care of that. You go home and go get some sleep. I'll be at Professor Oak's lab tomorrow morning for you and Red."

Jean gave a grateful smile and a warm hug. "Thank you so much, Martha."

"Anytime."

Once the two women finished hugging, they left the living room. Jean stopped in her tracks as a sharp chill ran down her spine.

"D-Didn't you close the door before...?" she shuddered, pointing to the wide open front door with a shaking hand.

A cold gust of air blew in from the door, and a pair of sinister eyes appeared in the doorway. Jean let out a loud shriek, until she heard her scream drowned out by laughter. Martha was laughing so hard, she had to lean against the wall to hold herself up. However, another voice shared in her laughter.

"Hant, hant, hant!"

Jean stomped her foot in frustration as she realized the scary set of eyes in the doorway belonged to Martha's Haunter, who made a tradition of terrorizing Martha's guests for fun.

"One of these days, he's going to give me a heart attack!" she exclaimed as she stomped out the door.

Martha and Haunter closed the door as Jean left. Haunter raised his floating hands, palms facing up. "Hant?"

"I think you got her good," said Martha as she walked back to the kitchen. Haunter resumed his laughter, happy with himself that after all these years, he never lost his touch with doing what he does best.