The small snake creature across from her held its tail shyly, hiding behind its youthful sprouts. The sunshine bounced off its smooth, perfect green scales. Wine narrowed pools held Kassandra's uncertain stare.
"I- I. I... Um. Kassandra is my name. We-we're partners now." Kassandra bit her tongue, not sure how to proceed.
"Greh, greh." The snivy gave her a small encouraging smile, nodding.
The summer sun filtered gracefully through the huge oaks of Route One. The heat wasn't bad at all, with the white noise of a river in the background. Life was everywhere in the forest stretch, with wide blue skies above.
Kass squeezed her toes and swallowed. The dew on the grass felt good between her fingers. "I-I really wanna be friends with you but I'm not sure how. I... I'm not good at making them, friends, but I really like you and I really want us to have fun. I'm not sure what my goal is but... I just want happy days. With you and potential partners. Um, what do you think?"
In the short time she had closed her eyes, the snivy had snuck up onto her lap, sitting criss-cross-applesauce. His deep red orbs and her amber brown were close, his elongated snout less than a hair's touch from my own. A soft grin played on his baby features, the childish traits evident in his lit face. He leaned slightly to the left and a rough, cool texture brushed across her cheek. His little lick gave her an odd, new sensation of tranquility.
"Greh." He joyfully deadpanned.
Kassandra couldn't help the laughter that trickled out. "Thanks, Harvester. You're great."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Ameliorate, Act I
Animando -becoming more lively-
Kassandra gripped her thin blankets tightly to her body, trying to be as small as she could in the corner. The looming therapist growled, and pinched the bridge of his nose, and she momentarily related him to something alike a psyduck; never without a headache of some kind. "We aren't going to be able to help you if you don't tell us what you went through."
"I won't say anything until my remaining pokemon are with me." She stated flatly, the repeated words most likely still falling on closed ears. The man was sickly thin in his baggy white coat, and worked up in his frustration, he leaned up against the wall. Her report of what happened was supposedly necessary for the government to document the last Plasma battle, but it didn't seem to be much of a bargaining chip.
"Your pokemon are too powerful for us to fend off." He grumbled, speaking with his hands as well. "You could easily escape, which we can't allow until you're better. You're the one who agreed to this." Defeat lowered his tone as he clicked his annoying little pen.
Kassandra didn't respond, instead pondering how her pokemon were doing. Were they scared? Lonely? They were being poked by other guys with huge noses and thick glasses, with white coats too. She shivered, nose crinkled at the image she couldn't get out of her head of their unhappy faces.
It wasn't like she was going to kill herself. She had always considered it as a very last option, and she would never be strong enough to, anyway. She wouldn't leave and kill off Plasma members either, no matter how much her heart was starting to warm to the idea. She was absolutely sick of violence. She wasn't insane, nor was she mentally inept or scarred. Okay, she was a little scared, but she was alright now. She was just... Sad. A little angry. Lonely in the absence of her pokemon.
Kassandra never realised what life would be like without her pokemon. Without their love and affection and protection that were constant in the past half decade, she felt exposed. Her confidence evaporated without them. After all, they were her, in a sense. Her accomplishments and her family that she created herself. Like her children, but more so her equals. Her...
Her comrades.
"I can't see my friends with how I am now. I just want my pokemon." She murmured in a tone that was laced with a tiredness not caused by a lack of sleep, and disgust. With herself.
He wrote on his tiny little pad, his gaze flickering to her and the paper. His watched buzzed and he stepped out of the room to answer it, seemingly fed up with of her lack of… anything. Or perhaps just frustrated, as this was the common interaction of the past month.
She wasn't good at reading him. She didn't really try to, anyway. None of them could really fix the problem. She was broken. That's all she really was now, without Harvester, her strength and other half.
They really had tried, but Kassandra was in enough of her mental mess to not care too much about what they were trying to do.
Kassandra glared daggers at the sterile food trade holding the options of mush, a gross old apple, and something akin to microwaved cheese. Even that seemed good then. She was starving. But she wouldn't eat, not until her pokemon were safely in her arms and happy. It was the only way to rebel that she could think of.
The thought of her raggedy team crossed her mind again. Consisting of Mythos, Monti, and a crazed Pennelope. The adorable sewaddle had faced a lot, and now would only not attack Burgh or herself, trusting no one but them. Kassandra didn't even know what on earth happened to the bug in the first place.
They probably kept her down with a constant river of sedatives, unfortunately. Now that was disgusting. Her cute, resourceful little baby, now barely alive and barely dead and there was nothing she could do about it.
Monti was probably throwing a fit about the gross food they tried to slide past his fine tastes. And his sleeping quarters, the audacity of his momentary keepers! She chuckled at the thought of the offended persian.
Mythos probably just ignored everything. Seemed like him enough to.
The doctor walked back in, a hint of a smile on his face. "Will you please come see your grandfather, at the very least?"
Her eyes widened, and a bit warmth fluttered in her empty stomach.
She hadn't seen the old fart since she was nine, due to his large drinking problem. He had finally quit for good three years ago, but her overprotective parents refused every time he asked to visit, from all the way from Kanto. A quiet, pathetic little okay drifted out of her before she had thought very much about it.
Ten minutes later, they were sitting at a small little kiddy table, staring at each other. He looked much cleaner, certainly. No scraggly stubble, no stench of alcohol, no pink in his eyes or red cheeks from being entirely wasted. His once charcoal hair had turned to the color of fine ash, and it was neatly shaven. He nodded at her, grinning from ear to ear.
She nodded back, biting her trembling lower lip, holding back tears.
He nodded back to her.
She nodded back to him, feeling a bit determined as it morphed into a trade off of the nods.
Her stomach loudly wailed, and she blinked, rubbing it a bit as her tummy did flips and loops, pirouetting off the metaphorical handle. He laughed, pointing at her childishly. "You blinked!"
"Wha- wait, no! It was a nodding contest!"
"Nope!"
"Bluh." She mumbled, sticking out her tongue.
They bickered and their competition continued until it degraded eventually into a intense thumb war of the ages. When she lost for the seventh time, he gave her another close look, and hugged her. "Hey, kiddo. I may have not been here, but I've certainly heard the stories. What the hell happened?"
Doctor Thunderland, the therapist on duty, tried to interject, saying that she wasn't ready to reveal, but he gave the doctor a look that silenced him immediately. "She can decide if she's ready or not, Doctor Thunderland. By the way, your name is stupid. Anyway, dear Kassandra, you were saying?"
She took a deep breath and nodded. "I-I fought. In the war. Against the um, you know... Plasma."
"My sweet, brave granddaughter, I still can't believe it. You used to be scared of everything when you were a little potato." He chuckled softly, sighing.
It seemed he didn't change much in his personality since she last saw him. He did seem smaller, older, but more dangerous if anything. She could only bob her head up and down, fleetingly wondered where all her backbone had flew off to.
Before the final hurrah, she'd have grinned at a challenge and beat her opponent into smithereens and would say something probably a little cocky at the end if she had won by a landslide. She may have been worse for the wear, but she had certainly been raring to go with the strength to fight Team Plasma. For the deaths of Penny and Sherlock, for what they were trying to do, and her friends, and for her life style. She had been so, so sure of everything.
Harvester wouldn't approve of your miserable pity party, she stabbed herself with the thought. Kassandra knew she needed to get back on her feet. Stop being half of nothing, and start being herself, and fix her filthy little excuse of existence. She took a deep breath, and stared at her grandfather with absolute certainty.
"I need to become human again. I think I've forgotten my humanity, Grandpa."
He sighed on a long not and nodded. "I know, Kassandra. I can see you, dead inside."
She didn't know how to take that, how to respond to that. What to do with it. She didn't try to, but instead narrowed her eyes.
"Loss can make a man raw. Team Plasma ripped the layers of my granddaughter, tore out her innermost self, and stomped on it. But I think I know a way to make it whole again, my dear."
She blinked, and the doctor got up. He tried to intercept again but got caught off once more.
"Don't worry, Thunderland. I know how to handle my damn kin, thank you very much."
The man huffed, and placed a hand on his watch. Kassandra could tell he was probably going to call security.
Her grandfather laughed loudly, seemingly amused by this. "Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted... I used to have a farm. I left it when you were three, to spend more time with our family in Kanto. Lovely idea that was." He muttered sarcastically, with a hint of anger. Kassandra knew it wasn't directed at her, however. "Anyway, the farm was part of a small town my pops grew up in. I know the people fairly well, and that farm is still vacant. No rent, since we own it, and yours to do with as you see fit. What do you think, Kassandra?"
She swallowed, and her face ached as her lips seeped up. Her cheeks felt thick, unused to the expression. It was a little painful, but had a warm feeling. She hadn't smiled in a while.
Kassandra stared in disbelief at her grandfather later that week, grinning before her with a taser in his hand and a handful of familiar balls in his other. He had a dirty, dingy bag strapped to his back.
She laughed, for the first time in a long time. It was genuine, not bitter, and it rang out like music. "And to what do I owe the pleasure?" She questioned, eyes trained greedily on the three colorful mini capsules. Her little warriors.
"Well, I didn't feel like going through the damn paperwork for getting you out of this hell hole. And they wouldn't let you out anyway. Something about a self contract. So, I decided to kindly pick up your buddies and bounce back here. I grabbed your stuff, so you can change out of that potato sack, too."
"Did you disable the cameras?"
His grin widened, nodding. "Very good, my dear. It seemed you gained some war tactics along the way."
"It would have been terribly rude if I didn't. After all, I had to give Plasma a few presents of my own work, at least."
She tackled him in a huge hug, feeling a warmth that she had been certain that was stolen from her. Delight.
Kassandra knew from stories she was told when she was young, that her grandfather was never a fan of the law, but this was new. It seemed like their relationship hadn't changed in the slightest, however.
She fell into step behind him, and felt her old reflexes kick in.
They stopped at the women's bathroom. "What if I like my potato sack?" Kassandra asked with a crooked brow, hands on her hips.
"Oh, really now?" He asked with bemused surprise.
"Oh, Legends no. This thing is itchy as it is ugly. We should probably hurry, huh?"
"Probably." He grandfather admitted, ancient burly fingers drumming on his taser.
Kassandra jumped into the bathroom, staring at her bag in disbelief. It was big and old and dirty, but reliable. She loved it. It was a miracle having that little familiarity back. It felt almost like too much, knowing her grandfather was holding her pokeballs safe, too.
She glanced in the mirror, curious. She had refused to look at herself at all, in the past three mental clinics. The first one, was because of she was scared too. If she peeped, would she still be human, or a monster? In the second one, she was angry. Trapped. She did little outside of the room as much as she could, determined to protest. In the third- her current one, she gave up.
She didn't want her friends and parents to see her so... Messy. But her grandfather knew what the bad side of life was, he had mucked around in it himself, apparently. And she wasn't saying her buddies didn't know the horrors of war that she faced, but she didn't was to show them a Kassandra that wasn't really... Kassandra.
Okay, she didn't know how to put it, but she didn't want to see them. It would be painful, and she didn't want that. She might get angry, which she didn't need. She could get emotional, which didn't help anyone.
She didn't really trust herself anymore.
Kassandra finally opened her eyes to see a extremely worn, tired young girl there. She had a mess of black-brown curls, and empty brown eyes that held a tinge of red. Her skin was pasty and almost grayish, from being locked up for two months. Dark rings fell below her eyes, a sign she knew would be there anyway. She felt a quite a bit weaker, having not had any physical activity in ages. A boxy white gown consumed her now thin figure.
She ran into the stall and slammed the door shut after what felt like a millennia, a little frightened.
That didn't look like herself. That looked like a person whom had given up.
She shook her head ferociously. She would not give up. She was sixteen, and had her pokemon waiting. Now all she needed to do was live.
Her worn pants still fit well if not a little baggy, making her feel a little less... Naked. Being in the dress made her feel too loosely clothed, although she had forgotten about it over time.
She inspected the hole on her right pant leg, where her knee was. Perfect.
Next, she threw on one of her many white dusty button ups. She had missed the soft linen more than she had realized.
Lastly, she dug to the bottom of the bag, unsure if she wanted to find it or not. When her fingers touched the old fabric, she felt her eyes well up. It had been a while since she had seen it.
She shrugged the jet black gentleman jacket on, rubbing her eyes of the waterworks with the long sleeves. She glanced at the inner cuff, recognizing the childish, messy scrawl. "Harvester" was boldly written on there in silver sharpie, which she had taught him before she bought him the jacket for his victory against Elesa. It was a bit big for a servine, but he had loved it. When he evolved he could wear it no more, so she had got him a top hat because he liked to think of himself as knightly.
"Are you ready yet, Kassandra?"
She yanked a brush through her dull chocolate bird's nest, mentally scolding herself for being so sentimental and wasting time. She stuffed the jacket back in and threw the bag over her shoulders, sprinting out of the bathroom.
Security guards were hot on their trail, as they ran with all their might towards the exit. Kassandra had her three balls strapped to her belt once more, and it felt like a dream that she never wanted to end.
Many people cleared the street as they ran, yells calling at their backs. Some cleared because it seemed only logical. But a good number recognized Kassandra, and even went as far to block the security men, encouraging her.
She really loved Castelia City.
"I have a boat waiting at the docks!" Her grandfather called, running with the grace of a young man. She nodded, lungs and body hurting but she knew better than to complain right then. And she had better get used to it. Victim or not, she was a trainer and would always be a trainer at heart, which meant her body needed to be able to keep up with her pokemon.
She grabbed his arm and sped him through a short cut to the side road of the city. The alley would be the fastest and closest shot, but it was too far away from their route.
Her heart plummeted as she ran past a pristine building, that she felt a painful urge to run into. It was a phantom pain all over her body, not doing the memorized motion. It was his gym, after all. If she ran in there, she could see him...
A hand lightly pushed her back, her grandfather helping her forward.
She kept on, swallowing the need. If she saw him, he would see her. She still looked like that girl whom was dead on the inside from the mirror, old clothes or not. For the sake of herself and him, she ran on.
At the turn lane, she grabbed her grandfather. "We're close enough, we can teleport." She went through the familiar motion of throwing the ball in the air, and catching it with ease.
Out of it spilled Mythos, her slowking. He glanced at her, then at the elderly man whom seemed to look a lot like her. He nodded as she hurriedly rambled about the docks.
Yells from the security men had started catching up with them. Kassandra turned to glance at them while Mythos took a few moments to build energy. He was teleporting them to a hiding spot she had found near there ages ago, otherwise they'd have been there in a flash, two months of no training or not.
She felt herself freeze when a certain head of messy chestnut brown curls started after them. He looked hurt, and confused. Kassandra didn't have time to say much, and all she could think to say was a tiny, heartfelt, "I'm sorry," before she was gone in the teleportation.
She felt like a guilty child, mumbling an apology before revealing what had been done. Like burning the eggs badly even as they tried so hard to make them a surprise breakfast, or like trying to wash their parents' car with shampoo and messing up the paint.
But, instead of burning simple little eggs, she had charred the house. Or, she had instead destroyed the car, instead of the paint.
Kassandra numbly returned the slowking, and trudged after her grandfather.
What crap had she been thinking about earlier, about living her life well, becoming whole again? Because as she stumbled onto the fairly nice little ship, she wanted to do nothing but wallow in her corner again, wanting to fade away.
.-+-.-+-.-+-.
Ahoy! Kassandra and her grandfather are on their way to Kanto and she's free of her cell, finally. Thank you for reading! Reviews mean a lot to me, so if you feel so tempted, please do. Your thoughts and any and all criticism are greatly appreciated!