December 4th, 2011
According to the info on this document, this was created in November last year. The entire thing was published on this account a long time ago, but I wasn't happy with it, so I took it down. Now it's back up for nostalgia's sake.
Apart from grammar/spelling error fixes, below the first line break on this fic is November last year's work. I do not claim to to a good writer, and I certainly wasn't back then. But I loved the idea then, and I hope you do now.
It was cold inside the prison. The instant the barred door closed I felt the chill settle around me like a blanket, comforting and refreshing. I liked the cold.
I was one of the youngest detectives on the Saffron Police Force. When Team Rocket took over Silph Co., I was one of the first on the scene. I was also the one who caught a glimpse of the red-hatted child who reportedly took down the head of Team Rocket and most of the organization on the way.
I was also the one they called to interrogate the lone Rocket they caught.
He was sitting in Cell 5, Block D. I was led deeper into the bowels of the prison by the warden, a hard-faced man who jingled his ring of keys in an annoying way as he walked. The cells were filled with criminals as the Saffron Minimum-Security Penitentiary was one of only three in the entire region of Sinnoh, but everyone was quiet tonight. Angry eyes, suspicious ones, stared at me as I passed. The ones filled with despair were turned away from me.
We were deep within the bedrock under the city before the warden stopped in front of the door. The air was damp, and it showed on the rusty and mildewed bars of the cell as the warden inserted one of the numerous keys into the lock on the door. He pushed it open with the dull creak of unmaintained hinges and I closed my hand around the tape recorder inside the pocket of my coat.
"If he gets violent, push the button on the wall," the warden said in a rough voice.
I inclined my head in acknowledgment and stepped inside the cell. The door slid shut behind me, the noise loud in the tiny room.
The Rocket was sitting in the corner, his face shadowed by his cap. His eyes were bright underneath it.
He was staring at me.
I almost jumped in shock when I realised that, before covering it with a cough and a sniff. His mouth twitched.
I cleared my throat once again. "I'm Niccoló. I'm with Saffron Police Force. I've come here today to question you."
He didn't respond.
I stood there for another couple of seconds before sitting down on the bench opposite of the bed the man was sitting on. There was a small toilet in the corner, but apart from that, the cell was bare.
I put the tape recorder on the small table in the middle of the room, before pressing the record button.
"Interview with Suspect 348-B, 16:35, August 15th, 1997. Begin interview." I looked at the Rocket. "What did you know about the plan for the invasion of Silph Co.?"
The Rocket shifted on the bed, before staring at me with grey eyes. "I'm going to tell you about myself. Listen or not, I don't care. I won't be repeating myself."
"Excuse me, I—"
"I was born in 1975, on the streets of Goldenrod City in Johto. My mother was broke and homeless. I never knew my father. My early life was hard; I knew nothing in the way of comfort or luxury, though my mother did love me unconditionally.
"She died when I was six years old. I'd had little before, but by then I had utterly nothing. No one knew, and even if they did, I doubt they'd care. They buried her in the graveyard closest to the hospital, in an unmarked grave near the back. I told myself I'd go see her one day.
"I encountered Team Rocket when I was eight. An amusing story: I actually tried to rob one of the Executives. Needless to say, it didn't work very well. I was quite positive they were going to kill me. Team Rocket were criminals, and I had tried to steal from one of the more senior members.
"I learned, much later, that the Executive's name was Archer. I just knew then that he stared at me, gazing right through me. It was as though his teal eyes were looking into my soul. He tapped two fingers against his lips, before pointing at me. 'Drop him,' he said to the two guards holding me by the forearms. They did, and he stepped forwards, pasting on a smile. He looked down at me and said, in a mild voice, 'How would you like to work for us?'
The man stopped for a second, and swallowed. I blinked for the first time in several moments. He continued,
"I highly doubted I had a choice in the matter, but even if I had, I still would have gone to work for this clean, tall man, in hopes that I might, one day, end up in the same position.
"It turned out that Team Rocket had only been around for a couple of months, and was collecting orphans, quite young ones, in order to train them to become recruits. It was a very clever plan: take ones who had nothing, give them something, and they'll be unswervingly loyal. I'd never had any real love for Pokémon. They'd taunted me at night, and constantly tried to steal my food, if I had any. They, Team Rocket, gave me a basic education, and a place to live. They were barracks, for lack of a better word, and I shared a room with three other people around my age. They were my first friends, and the first people I grew to care about.
"I was accepted into the ranks of the organisation at only fifteen, the second youngest ever. It was an amazing achievement, but I hated it, because it carved a rift between my friends and me. Still, I always made time for them, in between my missions.
"I was around sixteen when I started dating one of my friends. She was tall, with aqua hair and green eyes. She was the most kind and gentle person I knew."
"What was her name?" I asked, speaking my first complete sentence since I entered the cell, enthralled as I was in the captured Rocket's story.
He smirked. "Why should I tell you? You'll just use it to track her down."
I began to reply, but he began talking again.
"Where was I? Oh, that's right. For the first time in eleven long years, I had someone to care for me again. I had my other two friends, but this girl, was special. I was in love with her." His voice turned bitter.
"I was one of the most successful Rockets in the organisation, and Silph Co. would have been my final mission before being promoted to an Executive position. At only twenty-two years of age, I would have been one of the most powerful men in Kanto, if not for Silph.
"As far as I can tell, I was the only one captured. My girlfriend had stayed behind, with me, while the police had stormed the building after that red-hatted demon had single-handedly defeated all of us. I was wiping evidence of the computer, even though I knew I would be captured. Team Rocket's plans were more important than my freedom. I told her to leave. She refused. She was stubborn, so I had to do a despicable thing. I told her I didn't love her, that I was bored of her, that she repulsed me, even though it had gone against my every fibre to do so. She ran off crying, and I was still sitting at the computer when the police knocked down the door and arrested me."
He straightened from his previous slouch, and stared at me dead on. I had a feeling his narrative was coming to an end.
"You think I should hate Team Rocket. You say they've done terrible things, that I should have wanted nothing to do with them. But they fed me, clothed me, and gave me a home, when no-one else in this city would. When not one of the law cared. They gave me an education. They gave me a career I excelled at. I had a loving girlfriend. I had all this, they gave me all this, yet you still wonder how I could do what I did, how I could possibly like them. So what if they were evil?" he said, and for once the emotionless tone in his voice was gone. Instead, it was pained. "They were my family."
I waited for a moment, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to speak anymore.
I stopped the recording and shoved the machine back into the coat pocket. I stood.
"You'll be sentenced on January 12th," I said to the Rocket. He didn't answer.
Without any further words, I stood and walked out of the cell.
The Rocket turned his head and faced the wall. A single tear trickled down his cheek.
