Author's Notes: This idea was in my head and I decided to get it out of my head. I was always a fan of Pokemon for the most part, but never knew how to write down my thoughts. Instead of following the stories of Ash from the anime or the characters from Pokemon Special, this will be my first attempt at creating OCs. Wish me luck.

Disclaimer: All Rights to Pokemon Belong to Satoshi Tajiri and Nintendo.


Chapter 1: A Cry For Help

David took a cautious sip of his coffee, tentative about burning his tongue from the fresh brew. He swallowed the bitter taste as quickly as he could, cursing himself for forgetting to pick up a little sugar and milk from the rec-room and for being too lazy to get it now. It was just one of those mornings where he needed extra caffeine. He could already tell that today was going to be another long one just by looking at the manila folder placed onto his desk.

Manila folders always meant something big needed to be done. Typically something along the lines of designing new machines. Nothing major. It also meant countless nights working on the weekends too. Were this to be assigned to someone else, they would have groaned loudly at the prospect of the long hours they would have to spend just to make a small dent in the assignment. Fortunately, if he didn't have anyone to go home to, David would have relished in the task given to him completely and would potentially skip a meal or two just so he can get as much work done as possible.

He scanned the contents within swiftly, looking over his shoulder to see if there were unwanted eyes scanning the papers as well. There was no one there. David knew that this was more out of habit than worry, he never started to come into the office until a few years back when his children would always intrude in his workplace during "Daddy's time". He knew their intentions weren't malicious; when was it common for a child to be mean to their father intentionally? But it didn't help control his hair-trigger tempers, and as a result, he would inadvertently isolate his children from himself for days at a time.

It left a pang in his heart to know that he had hurt his children so easily by simply raising his voice instead of his hand to them. The tears in their eyes, the sound of feet pounding against wood much harder than usual, the sounds of doors slamming loudly. The usual symptoms of an upset child in the Hackett household. Truly words were more scarring than physical blows.

The anger, combined with the stress of his job - high paying one at that - along with the pain of days long gone were never a good combination. He sometimes envied his children for their youthful outlook on life, wanting to feel that way just one more time. Feel optimism towards the future, look forward to a day without worries for tomorrow, simply feeling the presence of youth coursing throughout his body.

Because of his pay, David felt capable of giving his children whatever they wanted and more. Toys, video games, new clothes of the latest trend and more. But the one wish that he absolutely refused to relent to didn't require much money, if any at all.

Pokemon.

He had hoped that his children wouldn't grow into the hopeless phase like every other child would. He thought that if he could make it past the first time one of his children turned 10, that he would be in the clear. Whoever made up the rule that children may become Trainers as young as ten years had to have been a complete idiot. Not the right time, too young for children to be going out into the world on their own with nothing but a single creature - typically at least a fourth of their Trainers' size - and a dream. David had hoped that his children would be able to understand their father's perception on the matter and take after his example.

Such hopes were always crushed like a bug beneath a giant's foot.

Two times so far, he was asked by each of his children if they could have a Pokemon of their own to raise and three times he said no. There were pleads, attempts at negotiation, even loud arguments. Or as loud as a ten-year old can be compared to an adult. The end of each of those first two fights always left a pang in David's heart, knowing that he had once again brought his precious children to tears.

David dreaded the day when his youngest would come with that very same question on his lips. Would he be as forgiving as his elder siblings in time?

Although he loved his children, David often questioned the idea of having children in the first place. Considering his own upbringing and how it affected him, David made a promise to himself to never become a father himself. But when Lisa had announced the pregnancy of their first born, the thought of creating something as wonderful as life made David rethink his plan. He tried and failed again to keep his promise to never have another child two more times, and David hoped that he would never even consider the thought of regretting becoming a father for all the years he would be on this earth.

That didn't mean that those three didn't drive him up the wall sometimes.

As much as he would like to think otherwise, David knew that his relationship with each of his children was basic at best. It lacked true depth and understanding beyond what he saw in their report cards. Sometimes he wondered if he should ask his employer if he could work shorter hours only to mentally calculate how much money he wouldn't be bringing home in the form of a check. If his children were to only think at least one positive thing about their father, he would hope that they were grateful that he sacrificed so much time in order to ensure they each had prosperous futures ahead of them alongside their mother.

His phone rang, nearly giving David a heart attack due to the unexpected sound. He took a few deep breaths to recover from the shock and proceeded to pick up the small device and place it towards his ear.

"Hackett speaking. What is it?"

"Dave, it's me, Ben. I need to talk to you about...your car." Benjamin Thatcher, his supervisor. Wiry man in his late twenties, you'd expect him to strut his seniority over others due to his young age. Maybe Ben watched enough movies to know that it wouldn't help him keep his job for long, maybe he simply didn't have the guts to pull the "Alpha Bitch" act. Either way, he was friendly enough for David to talk casually to for the most part. Sometimes if he were in the mood, David would drive over to Ben's apartment and they'd both carpool over to work together.

"My car?" David raised an eyebrow. Did Ben think that there was something wrong with the vehicle? David just brought it to the mechanics last month. If only Ben wouldn't feel the need to micromanage him at times... "If you're worried I'm overdue for a date at the Klinklang Kinks, then don't. Just got it checked up on last month."

"No. It's nothing like that." Ben's voice started to sound a little tense, as if he were moments away from a breakdown. That was always the case with Ben. David felt a pang of pity for the young man, his job wasn't exactly easy. "I think I left...my weekly reports in there when you drove me to work yesterday."

The way Ben stressed the word "reports" made David's heart skip a beat. The phrase "walls have ears" suddenly made more sense to him now. Taking the hint that Ben was giving him, David kept his voice casual like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Relax, Ben. Whatever it is, it's not the end of the world. Just meet me in the parking lot when we get out and we can check my car for your reports."

"Um, that's the problem." Ben sounded like he was taking a step backward from what David suggested. "The reports are...due today. My superior, Mr. Rosetta, he's been asking about them for a while now and I'm starting to get a little nervous. Can you check your car in your next lunch break and come look for me in my office?"

"Sure, sure, Ben. Not a problem. If Rosetta gives you any grief, just tell him that I'm to blame for any inconveniences on both of your parts."

Ben giggled nervously on the other line. David made a mental note to tell him to work on that, lest someone on the street or in the office mistake the noise to belong to someone lacking in the sanity department.

"Okay...David. Just...don't tell anyone that I'm missing those reports. Trying to set a good example for our company after all."

"Understood Ben, see you shortly."

As David placed the phone back on the charger, he silently prayed that whatever Ben needed to talk to him about wasn't like those other plot lines in the movies...


"Argh!" Jack clutched his head in agony as another wave of pain washed over him like water on a sandy beach; sometimes crashing down gently and other times with the brute strength of a tsunami. He stopped walking, trying to regain his composure as quickly as possible and took a deep breath.

Sixy. Fifty-Nine. Fifty-Eight. Fifty-Seven. Fifty-Six.

Jack continued to count down, sensing the throbbing within his skull becoming duller by the second.

Thirty-Three. Thirty-Two. Thirty-One. Thirty. Twenty-Nine. Twenty-Eight.

Migraines are the worst kind of pain in the world. Jack declared in his mind. It's the only thing that can't get better with medicine.

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Hesighed upon the end of his counting. He looked down at his watch to see that his timing was exact, down to the last millisecond, just as he expected. The first time that Jack realized that he had been able to count a minute exactly, he started feeling a bit more respect for the Hoothoot that perched in the tree branches near their and always hooted every minute precisely. At least until his father shooed the Owl Pokemon away from their house and scolded Jack for letting "vermin" near the house.

It was an old habit of his that Jack found himself doing more often than not as of late, the exercise was now ingrained into his mind like muscle. It didn't help that his father wasn't around as much as Jack would like the man to be. That left him and Katherine to pick up the slack that their father usually left behind and help their mother in holding the fort.

And that included looking after his little brother.

Which was why he was dragging his feet down the road all the way to Lake Debut despite the pile of homework that was waiting to be done back home. Why did Timmy want to come down there in the first place again? The sensation of gripping onto a small rod in one hand came back to Jack. Oh yeah. Timmy wanted to go fishing.

For the past eight years, Jack questioned whether or not his parents brought home a mutated Tyrogue by accident wrapped in blankets. Timmy was scrawny for his age, and still barely reached past three feet. Jack began to compare him to a Tyrogue the moment it became apparent that Timmy was also capable of taking on people twice his size. What kind of four-year old would be able to break someone's nose with a jumping kick? Some people looked at Timmy as if he were an undesirable. Others even went as far as to jokingly referred to the young boy as a Fighting Type Pokemon before sending out their own Pokemon to do battle with the child to twist the knife further.

Were it not for Katherine or Jack interfering and receiving the blunt of the injuries caused by a Pokemon attack, Timmy probably would have paid several visits to the Emergency Room by now. Not that the Pokemon sent out against him were powerful, his small stature simply make him fragile.

If only their father would allow them to raise Pokemon of their own - sooner or later, all three of them would be old enough to get their own licenses for crying out loud! - then Jack would be able to protect Timmy without intense fear of injury. On one hand, the worst that he had to suffer was a Horn Attack from that Heracross. On the other hand, Jack was tired of being the odd man out at school. Having a Pokemon by his side would serve as a nice form of revenge...

It brought a smile on his face imagining the reactions his classmates would have if they suddenly saw him with a Pokemon or two, ready to kick everyone's asses. He would be the best Trainer in the entire school.

No. He'd become the very best like no one ever was...no wait, that sounds too corny...

"Jack, come on! We're not gonna get to the lake at this rate!" Timmy's voice broke Jack out of his thoughts. He looked up to see his brother waving at him in the distance, looking even smaller than before. The growing pout on Timmy's face drew Jack's attention, knowing very well that the boy was becoming a little antsy. Was I ever like this when I was his age? Jack thought to himself. He took a deep breath and dug his heels into the earth before breaking into a sprint, being careful to keep the small rod that was their only fishing pole from slipping from his grasp.

He nearly stumbled into Timmy when he came to a halt, spreading his arms out in front of him in the event that he should fall to the ground. Timmy rolled his eyes and poked his older brother in the chest to balance him out.

"Thanks."

"No prob. Cmon, we're burning daylight!"

"Timmy. On all of the days that you decided to do something that would most likely piss off Dad-"

"Don't swear, Mom says not to."

"Sorry. As I was saying, of all the days you decide to do something that would get us into trouble, why choose the day where we both have half-days off from school?"

"Cause the fishes aren't here later in the day." Timmy replied nonchalantly.

Jack had to chuckle a little. "I think Mom's all set with dinner, but I like your way of thinking."

"Nuh-uh. We're not looking for those types of fishes."

"Well that's good, cause it takes forever to- wait, what?" Jack tried to clear out his left ear. "Timmy, whacha talking about?"

"I want to look for a Pokemon. And there are some that live around here, so I figured we could find some."

"We? This is more of your idea than mine." Jack's lip curled into a frown.

Timmy didn't seem fazed by what he was seeing. "If I went by myself, Mom would've had an episode."

"So you decided it would be best to be vague with me and answer questions later?" Jack crossed his arms to make himself appear more intimidating.

"I kinda thought you could get a Pokemon too. Like me." Timmy added with finality.

"Well take your pick. Would you like a Magikarp or a Krabby?" Jack threw in with an ironic bite. He knew as well as Timmy that there wasn't much of a variety of Pokemon to choose from in the Lake. They'd both visited the place enough times to be able to write a data report on it.

"We gotta start somewhere and it's not like we're gonna keep whatever we catch." Timmy snatched the collapsible fishing pole from his brother's grasp and made his way down to the water's edge.

"So what's the point of finding a Pokemon around here if we aren't gonna catch one?"

"We don't have Poke Balls and I just said I wanted to find one, not keep it."

What's the harm? Jack thought to himself. We're practically playing 'make-believe', its not like we'd be breaking Dad's rule or anything. He watched his brother from a distance as he proceeded to press the release button on the rod, bringing it to its full size before checking on the fishing line already wired in. Nodding in confirmation at the Good Rod's functionality, Timmy then tossed the line out into the water.

Or at least, he tried to and found that the line hadn't budged from its place in the fishing pole.

Jack partly wanted to lend a hand, but decided against it. Timmy was always going on about how he wanted to do things by himself lately, and Jack decided to simply wait until he received a request for help before doing anything. But that didn't stop him from stepping in once in a while before his little brother hurt himself.

"Alright kiddo, scooch over. Let a master Fisherman show you how it's done." Jack held back a chuckle as he heard Timmy's indignant cry when he lost possession of the Good Rod and glared at the culprit that was his older brother. "There's this little button you have to press that relaxes the spool of wire that the line's apart of. And then you keep the rod a little over your shoulder and WHAM!" As he said this, Jack threw the line out with all of his strength as Timmy gaped in awe at the distance.

Fifty feet. New record. Jack thought proudly. He crouched down to Timmy's level and placed the Good Rod back into his younger brother's possession, overlapping the smaller hands with his own to assist. For a moment, Jack felt content. It felt like the two of them were spending time together like actual brothers doing stupid things together like they saw on television. If only they were allowed to catch a Pokemon...

A strong tug lurched the two brother forward a little, brotherly instinct forcing Jack to wrap one arm protectively around Timmy's waist despite the boy not being that close to the water to fall in.

"Okay, we got a bit." Jack kept his voice level and low, afraid of frightening away their potential catch. "So we're just gonna reel it in a little by rotating that pedal on your right counterclockwise. That's it. Slowly. Slower. Slower. Okay, that's enough. Let the little critter take the bait."

"I thought we didn't put bait on it."

"The catch we're trying to get loves shiny things. And keep your voice down."

Another tug came, but Timmy and Jack were more prepared this time, keeping their grip on the fishing pile while tugging back a little. Timmy slowly reeled the line in until Jack signaled him to stop.

"Okay, by the third tug, we're gonna reel it in at full speed. The line's getting close to where we are, so no better time than now to get our little prize- now Timmy! reel it in a full power!"

Jack stood up as Timmy rotated the pedal, ready to tug should the fish or Pokemon fight against the pull of the line.

"Woah!"

Timmy lost his grip on the Good Rod and fell to the ground. Fortunately, Jack still had his grip on the Good Rod and tugged harder back with one hand and reeling in the line in the other. It started feeling more and more like a game of tug-of-war, with neither side gaining ground for long. The harder Jack seemed to tug towards land, an opposite force of equal - and almost greater at times- strength tug back towards the lake. With a final tug, Jack felt something fly into the air, leaving an oddly shaped silhouette in the sky, confirming that it wasn't a fish. The head was large and circular, the torso wide like a pancake, with small flippers and webbed feet as well.

Right as Jack - and possibly Timmy, judging by the audible gasp coming from where he was standing - felt a sense of triumph at the potential Pokemon capture, a sudden wave of pain racked his head once more. As Jack collapsed to the ground, he felt a piercing scream overhead.

"HELP ME!"


Author's Note: Some cliffhanger, huh? For a few days, I thought I'd never be able to write this down. Thank God I didn't give up on this and tried a different angle.

Any ideas of what Jack and his little brother just caught? Did this seem like a good beginning to a story. Please reply in the reviews. I really want to hear some feedback.

Happy Readings!