[Author Notes: So this isn't one of my serious projects, it's more or less just for fun. It's a trainer fanfic. It will be submitted as I write it.]


1. Escape from Pallet Town

"FINLAAAY!"

The shrill scream from downstairs made the ten-year-old shudder with dread.

"FINLAAAY! I'm out of cigarettes! And we need some bread and milk!"

Finlay grunted and glared at himself in the mirror as he finished gelling back his unruly mop of hair, before fixing his cap and pulling the rim down over his eyes, hoping perhaps that the lack if eye contact would stave off another earful from his mother. What he expected to get yelled at about he didn't know, but there was always something.

Thankfully this time the woman seemed far too absorbed in whatever drama was going down on the television to be bothered giving her son much notice. Finlay left the house with the money and made his way to the store. He picked up the groceries and brought them to the counter.

"Ah, Finlay!" The fat, balding cashier greeted warmly as he scanned the groceries. "Will that be all?"

"A pack of cigs."

The cashier squinted at Finlay, with just a crack of a smile visible on his bloated, stubbled face. "You got your ID there, young man?"

Finlay stared at the man impatiently.

"Ah, I'm kiddin'!" He chuckled to himself as he grabbed Finlay's mother's usual brand. "I know it's for your ol' lady. Say, I heard the pick is gonna be held tomorrow. I also heard you were gonna be there. Ya lookin' forward to it? That'll be $220"

"I'm lookin' forward to gettin' outta this place. I don't care about pickin' a pokemon." Finlay sighed as he handed over the money.

"Oh, you don't really mean that. All boys look forward to their first pokemon. It said so on TV."

"Yeah, right. See ya." Finaly grabbed his purchases and hurried out of the door.

Finaly glared at the ground as he trudged home carrying his bag of food and his mother's fix, avoiding any eye contact with anyone else who might attempt to strike up a conversation with him. It was embarrassing enough for him that his mother was a slob who didn't expect her son to amount to anything. It was even worse when other people pretended to feel sorry for him – people who Finlay believed should be minding their own business.

"Yo! Finlay!"

Finlay's eyes squeezed shut as he winced at the nasal voice that he recognised all too well.

"Finlay! There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" The tall, shaggy-haired boy approached him with a smug grin. That grin that always made Finlay's blood boil.

"Got nothin' better to do?" Finlay grumbled, still staring at the ground to avoid becoming any more irritated.

"Nah, well, I wouldn't normally waste my time, you know? But seeing as this is our last day in Pallet Town I thought, well... For old time's sake we should hang out, have some fun, you know." The boy put his arm around Finaly's shoulder and patted it in a patronising manner.

Finaly's knuckles turned white as he squeezed on the handle of the bag. "Leave me alone, Kevin" He started walking but was interrupted when the boy walked out in front of him.

"Hey. That's rude, you know. I'm just trying to be charitable, you know, since you're poor and everything, and you got no friends, and your mom's a slut-"

Kevin's insult was stopped short with Finaly's fist slamming into his cheek. Spit sprayed from his mouth as he was sent reeling and stumbling backwards. He caught himself just in time before he tripped and fell to the ground and clutched his rapidly swelling cheek. He tried to blink away the tears welling in his eyes and glared at Finlay.

"That's it I'm telling! And when I get my pokemon I'm gonna get you back, you'll see!" Kevin shouted through a swollen, muffled cheek before running away around the street corner.

For some reason, Finlay always found himself unable to leave his own bedroom without some kind of hassle from others. Even in his own home he was unable to escape from anger and restlessness. He often curled up on his bed with his headphones covering his ears as his only source of escape, thinking about what it would be like to be able to leave Pallet Town for good. Pokemon was a means, an excuse, but not his true goal.

A hammering at the door jarred him out of his daydream before his mother barged in. With his headphones on his mother's shouting was just a faint muffle but the moment she snatched them off his head her shrill voice pierced his ears.

"I just had a call from Kevin's mother, do you know what she told me? I am ashamed! Don't roll your eyes like that, you know what you did! Why did you hit him? WHY?" Just as Finaly sat up and opened his mouth to explain, his mother slapped him across the side of the head. "DON'T you dare talk back to me! I am sick of your attitude! You're a lazy, spoiled, bad-tempered little brat! UUUGH! You'd think I was living with a teenager!" Finlay zoned out as his mother continued to rant on and on in his face about his shortcomings and about his failures, before she went silent and took a deep breath – something that did catch his attention as it was very uncharacteristic of her.

"You know what? I'm not going to get angry. I've decided, you're not mature enough to go on your pokemon journey tomorrow. You're staying home for at least another year."

Wait!" Finlay stood up. "You can't do that!"

"Oh, I can. One phone call to Professor Oak's lab, that's all it takes."

"That's not fair... Kevin called you a slut! I had to hit him!"

Finlay's mother spun round and slapped him across the head a second time. "I ought to wash your mouth out with soap just like they used to do back in the old days!" She grabbed his arm and dragged him through to the bathroom kicking and screaming. Finlay didn't put it past his mother to actually go through with it. She grabbed his jaw and dragged his head over to the sink as he screamed, apologised and pleaded with her, but it was no use. No matter how hard he kicked, punched or scratched, she didn't loosen her grip. She took the soap bottle and tried to shove the nozzle into his mouth. He closed his lips and clenched his teeth shut tight as he squirmed, making the job too difficult for his mother with just two hands. Finally Finlay squirmed out of her grasp, hitting the back of his head on the sink as he went, and bolted out of the bathroom, down the stairs and out the front door into the street. His mother stood in the bathroom in silence for a few seconds before grumbling to herself as she tidied up.

The next day, Professor Oak's lab was bustling with parents and children of various ages, but most around ten-years-old. It was like a small fair, with food and pokemon products on sale at stalls set up in the parking lot and inside the building. Finlay squeezed through the crowd to the reception where Professor Oak had set up his stand for handing out pokemon. It appeared that most of the children had already received their pokemon and Prof. Oak was now busy chatting with emotional parents and consoling them about how strong and resourceful young children could be with pokemon by their side.

As the chatter seemed to drag on, Finlay pulled himself up to see over the counter easier before shouting on Prof. Oak. He glanced at Finlay before continuing to chat with the parents, pretending that he hadn't seen the boy. Finlay shouted louder before Prof. Oak excused himself and strolled over to Finlay reluctantly.

"I suppose you're here for your first pokemon as well?" Prof. Oak said blankly, trying to seem as impartial as possible. "You're Finlay, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Finlay peered up expectantly.

Prof. Oak sighed and turned around to prepare Finlay's starter kit. "Finlay. I received a call from your mother last night. She was very upset with you."

Finlay resisted the urge to make a snide remark about him acting like his dad.

"It's her wish that I don't give this pokemon to you." Prof. Oak turned around holding a pokeball. "And in some ways I don't really want to."

Finlay bit his tongue as hard as he could just to stop himself from saying something that would prevent him from obtaining his pokemon.

"I'm also hoping that travelling with your pokemon might be a positive experience for you. You actually remind me a lot of myself when I was a young boy, before I decided I had a passion for pokemon. So, here. Take these. And please, stay out of trouble." Prof. Oak handed over the pokeball containing his pokemon and the pokedex, along with 5 empty pokeballs, a Kanto map and a potion. "Oh, and you should really go and tell your mom."

Finlay wasted no time in loading his new belongings into his virtually empty backpack. He glanced up at Prof. Oak and gave him a quick "thanks" before scurrying off back into the crowd. Prof. Oak shook his head and folded his arms. "I hope I haven't made a mistake."

Finlay didn't stop at the parking lot, nor did he stop at the gates of the Pokemon Laboratory grounds. It wasn't until he reached the lush, green, shaded entrance of Route 1 that he decided to stop and look back for just one brief moment. He smiled at the sunny little town that had felt to him like a prison for most of his life, where everybody knew his name and he never had any privacy. "Good riddance!" He exclaimed cheerfully.

"You're not getting away that easily!" The familiar nasal voice sent chills up Finlay's spine. He looked around to see Kevin panting and running to catch up with him. "I saw you..." He panted, "I saw you trying to sneak away. You bastard! I'm gonna get you this time! Go, starter!" Kevin rolled his skinny arm and threw the red and white sphere at the ground. It burst open into two halves and spilled out a glowing red light that collected together and formed the shape of a bipedal creature. It was about a foot tall, covered in orange scales and had a burning flame at the tip of its tail. Upon realising what it was, Kevin's face lit up. "Haha... Ahahaha! It's just what I wanted!"

"Whatever..." Finlay rolled his eyes, turned around and started walking.

"Hey! Hey you have to battle me!" Kevin shouted, but Finlay just ignored him as he continued to walk down Route 1. "Charmander! Don't let him escape!"

The charmander turned around and glanced at his trainer warily.

"Well? Come on, what move is it you have... Scratch, that's right! Go scratch him!" Kevin demanded. The charmander looked at Finlay walking away further down the path and then looked back up at Kevin. "Hey, come on! I gave you an order! I'm your master now go scratch him!"

The charmander stalled with reluctance before hesitantly charging forward to catch up with Finlay. The little lizard raised its laws and struck them across the back of Finlay's leg. Finlay cried out and jumped, coming inches from heeling the charmander in the face. He spun around in disbelief and looked down to see the culprit standing before him, but for the moment he was more concerned about his stinging leg. He turned around to inspect the bleeding cuts. The charmander had cut his bare skin because he was only wearing shorts, leaving three oozing scratch marks on his calf.

"You wanna see your pokemon get kicked in the teeth, huh?" Finlay threatened before storming towards the fire type. The fire type pokemon lunged forward in self-defence and began swinging its claws. Finlay jumped back startled by the little creature's ferociousness.

"Hahaha!" Kevin laughed. "Send out your pokemon you dumb ass. You don't even know how to battle pokemon! You're so stupid!"

"I know how to battle pokemon!" Finlay shouted furiously and fumbled for the pokeball he had carelessly thrown in his backpack earlier. He then tossed it out on the ground in front of him. Like Kevin's charmander, Finlay's pokemon emerged from the red light that poured out of the open mouth of the pokeball. It formed into a small, squat quadruped with worty turquoise skin and a large green plant bulb attached to its back.

Laughter exploded from Kevin's mouth even as he tried to hold it back. "Hahaha what a stupid looking pokemon! It's even a grass type! That means my charmander will beat it easy! You watch!"

Finlay growled to himself in annoyance. Even a three-year-old would know fire beats grass. The pokemon that had emerged from Finlay's pokeball, the bulbasaur, backed away slowly from the charmander with the instinctive understanding that fire ignites plant matter easily. However, Finlay also realised that both pokemon were an extremely low level. Even with his basic understanding he knew that the charmander couldn't actually use fire moves yet. It could still attack, though.

"Bulbasaur, weaken it... somehow."

"Charmander, scratch it!"

Bulbasaur understood Finlay's vague command as to use one of the stat-changing moves all starters were equipped with. In Bulbasaur's case, it was a cute, innocent growl to guilt-trip his opponent into holding back a little. Charmander struck Bulbasaur with his claws but not with as much force as he potentially could have. Bulbasaur winced in pain slightly and jumped back, before standing ready for his next command.

"Okay, um... attack it!" Finlay gave yet another vague command, not sure exactly how basic level bulbasaurs actually attacked. Did they scratch? Tackle? Pound maybe? He didn't know.

"Growl back!" Kevin screamed madly as though he were trying to transfer his own fury into his pokemon.

Bulbasaur rushed up towards Charmander and rammed his body into the fire lizard's torso, an attack Finlay could only guess was called Tackle. Charmander was knocked back a little by the attack but was able to maintain his composure enough to hold his ground. Charmander bared his teeth and growled, not a cute growl like what Bulbasaur had done. It was a mean, gargling growl.

"T-tackle!" Finlay commanded with uncertainty.

The bulbasaur seemed unfazed by Charmander's attempt at intimidation and rammed his head into its torso once again, this time knocking the wind right out of him. Charmander gasped and tumbled backwards onto the ground having taken far more damage than usual.

Kevin commanded another scratch and Finlay returned with a Tackle command, back and forth until Bulbasaur delivered his last tackle, knocking Charmander to the floor. Charmander weakly tried to pull himself up, but the pain in his chest from multiple tackles was so unbearable he could barely breathe.

"Get up, Charmander!" Kevin cried but his pokemon lay on the dirt unwilling to fight and trying to catch his breath back. "Aargh..." Kevin picked up Charmander's empty pokeball and activated it. Charmander returned into the ball in a stream of light.

Finlay smiled with satisfaction, even though he hadn't been interested in battling with his pokemon at first. "Looks like I win. What happens next? Oh, yeah! You give me your money!"

"Nu-uh!" Kevin whined.

"Uh-huh!" Finlay walked right up to Kevin's face. "That's the rules!"

"No it isn't!"

Finlay violently shoved Kevin causing him to trip backwards onto his rear-end. "Don't lie, you just don't wanna pay up!" Finlay dived onto Kevin and pinned the screaming boy down as he struggled to rummage his pockets. Kevin grabbed Finlay's hair with one hand and started thumping him with his fist with the other, causing Finlay to recoil in pain. Finlay punched Kevin in the face repeatedly until his nose burst and started gushing.

"Give me your money!" Finlay screamed at the boy who was now making no effort to hide the fact that he was crying. Bulbasaur ran up beside Finlay and croaked loudly in support of his new master.

"Okay..." Kevin sniffled and sobbed. "Here..." He reached into his pocket for his wallet. Before he could count out the money Finlay demanded, Finlay snatched the wallet from his hands and promptly emptied it, taking everything before throwing the empty wallet down on Kevin's sore and broken face. He got up and shoved the money in his own pocket before returning his pokemon into its pokeball.

"I'll get you back..." Kevin strained to shout. "You're dead, Finlay!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..." Finlay strolled along Route 1 in a surprisingly good mood, pleased that an irritating situation had turned in his favour and that he had been able to show up a life-long enemy after years of torment without fear of being reprimanded by adults. He jangled the money in his pocket and smiled as an idea came to him. 'This pokemon battling thing might not be so bad after all. I could get rich off stupid noobs!'

At Professor Oak's lab the pokemon give-away event was windong down to a close. Litter covered the empty parking lot and the grounds keeper was busy tidying the mess. A lone woman crossed the park to the laboratory building and entered the double doors. There was only a receptionist present inside.

"Excuse me," The woman asked, "Is Profesoor Oak around?"

The receptionist looked up and smiled, "You can still catch him in his lab if you're quick!" She pointed to the door that led to the other half of the building.

"Thank you!" The woman hurried through the door. "Professor Oak!" She shouted in the large, spacious lab causing an echo.

"Yes...?" Prof. Oak got up from the floor and dusted himself off. He appeared to be packing something.

"Oh, I'm sorry to bother you, have you seen my son Finlay? He hasn't come home yet and I'm thinking he might have stopped by here."

Prof. Oak felt his heart skip a beat as he realised Finlay hadn't taken his advice to inform his mother of the fact he was journeying with his pokemon. "I told him to tell you that he now has his pokemon. I can only think he must have left without telling you."

"Excuse me, but why did you give him anything? Did you seriously give him a... Oh, I cannot believe you!" Finlay's mother began to scream in his shrill voice that was only amplified by the reverberations against the walls. "I pacific... spefic... I told you not to give him a pokemon! I TOLD YOU! Didn't you listen to me?"

Prof. Oak took a step back. "I understand your frustration ma'am, but it is a tradition for all children to leave pallet town at 10-years-old with a pokemon-"

"I am his mother and I don't care about some stupid tradition! You haven't heard the end of this. I am going to SUE you! You hear me?" She started on her way towards leaving the building. "I'm gonna SUE! And I'm calling the cops too!" She made a point of slamming the door as she left, even though it was a door that is supposed to automatically prevent itself from slamming.

"Hm..." Prof. Oak folded his arms and frowned. "How rude."