Zombie

It was an accident, they said. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I called bullshit. There was no way that it was an accident—because, otherwise, they would have told me right when it happened. Instead, they kept everything about the whole thing a secret from me, withholding what had to be the most important information on this planet because they didn't want me to blame myself. After all, if I had just gotten there sooner, maybe none of this would have happened at all.

They should have told me… at the very beginning, they should have brought me home…

Instead, like the ignorant little girl I was, I returned home beaming like nothing was wrong, if only because I didn't know any other way. Lance, the Champion—or former Champion, even if it had only been a couple of hours—bid me farewell and left me in the care of my mother again. And never for a second did I suspect something was wrong.

"You wouldn't believe it, Mom. Ah, but I'm actually really tired. Can we talk tomorrow?" I spat out, one word right after another and not leaving a second to even breathe.

"Uh, wait a second, Lyra—"

"Oh, and I know I just got back, but I'm going to head to Kanto next, I think. There's a league over there, and I ought to visit since I'm the Champion now," I continued, bounding up the stairs as I spoke. From the top step, I looked down and smiled at my mom. "You wanted to say something? Or can it wait until tomorrow?"

Now that I thought about it again, maybe I did see her lip quiver slightly, something uneasy passing through her gaze as she stared up at me from the foot of the stairs. But, in the end, she just forced a smile and shook her head, and like the oblivious girl I was, I said goodnight and went to sleep. It was as easy as that.

I left the next day like I said and got my ticket to head to Kanto on the ferry. And for another year, I lived in perfect bliss, completely forgetting about the world outside my head.

I only needed what was given to me—or, perhaps, maybe I only wanted what was given to me. I didn't think about calling my friends or my mom, but I always answered if they called me first. But I could go for long periods of time without talking to them at all, and as soon as I picked up that phone, it was like nothing had changed. It tricked me into thinking that my way of life was okay, when, in reality, it was a little twisted.

The year passed quickly and quietly, and without having to deal with Team Rocket too much, I had to admit that it was actually relaxing. It was as though I had been sent away for a peaceful vacation, a reward for all of my hard work back in Johto. And as I was reveling in my perfect little life, he was back at home with nowhere to go.

I returned home by the year's end, just two days before New Year's Eve. I missed Christmas, but I told myself that everything was so perfect that I didn't need anything. I realized now how incredibly selfish I was—I didn't need anything; I worked hard, I had a perfect life. Every little thing in my own world was about me after all.

And I was offended when I entered my home and my mom wasn't there. "Mom?" I called as I checked all the rooms in the house, crossing my arms with a huff when I couldn't find her.

So, I left, figuring that Ethan would at least be happy to see me. I crossed the street, waving at a couple of my neighbors out on their lawns, and stopped on Ethan's porch. Just as a I raised my hand to knock, the door swung open in front of me, and my mom and Ethan's dad stood frozen in the doorway upon seeing me.

"What's going on?" I asked, as their expressions turned from shock to sadness. My mind turned to the worst, first, though only in my selfish head—the two of them had gotten together, my mom and Ethan's dad. They were in love, weren't they, having some sort of crazy love affair, and they didn't want us kids to know about it.

Of course, I was wrong. But how I wished now that I was right because that would have been an easier pill to swallow.

"Lyra, honey," my mom began, forcing a smile, "you're back."

"Where are you going?" I pressed, putting my hands on my hips and furrowing my eyebrows. "Let me come."

"We ought to tell her. Ethan wants to," my best friend's dad whispered, not very subtly, to my mom, and I raised my eyebrows. Ethan wanted to tell me what? My mind kept revolving around the idea that this was some sick love game, but I couldn't fathom how Ethan would be okay with that. Not when… well, we weren't exactly step-sibling material.

My mom's hands trembled so violently that my gaze was drawn to them, and she curled her fingers into her palms to try to stop it. "Lyra…" Her voice cracked on my name, and fear finally set in my stomach. "There was an accident, and… I know this is going to be hard—he's your best friend, after all, and I—"

Ethan's dad put a hand on my mom's shoulder, but he was looking at me still. "Ethan had a grand mal seizure last night and is back in the hospital. He should be all right, according to the doctors, but he'll be having tests done over the next couple of day," he explained, and suddenly, my whole selfish world came crashing to a halt.

"Back?" I repeated, which, although it was just one word, seemed to stand out the most. "He's back in the hospital?"

"I wanted to tell you, but you were so eager to go to Kanto—I didn't want to ruin that for you, and Ethan agreed that it was the right thing to do," my mom started quickly, and I felt my jaw dropping lower and lower with every word. Wanting to go to Kanto… that was a year ago… whatever had happened, it had happened a year ago?

I covered my mouth, swallowing back the vile that had begun to rise in my throat.

"We're heading over to the hospital to see him right now. Why don't you come along?" Ethan's dad suggested, and I nodded, though I wasn't sure if I actually heard what he said or if I was just running on autopilot now. Because now, as we walked down the steps of his porch, I couldn't even feel my feet hitting the ground.

When we made it to the hospital, I followed behind the two adults and kept my mouth shut. When the nurse asked for our names at the front desk, I couldn't find my voice to speak, and my mom had to give my name for me. But it was as we walked down the hall to Ethan's room that I became uncomfortably aware of the sound of our shoes against the linoleum tile.

"Hey, buddy," Ethan's dad said as he entered the room. I hesitated a moment outside the open door, and my mom glanced back at me.

"I didn't mean to hide it from you," she assured me, which wasn't all that reassuring at all, but I couldn't look at her and say that. "But…"

I shook my head and pushed past her into the room. For some reason, I didn't think I would actually see my best friend in that hospital bed. There had still been a chance, as farfetched as it was, that this was all some sick joke—a prank by the adults or maybe revenge for missing Christmas and not sending gifts.

But there he was, laughing and smiling in the bed, as if nothing was at all wrong. It should have made me feel better—hearing that laugh and seeing that smile—but the nauseous ache in my stomach that wouldn't seem to go away still didn't fade. And when he looked away from his dad and met my gaze, that goofy smile of his faded, revealing the true exhaustion surrounding his eyes.

"Lyra!" he called, and I ran to his side, falling across his lap and hugging him a little awkwardly. "Oof, Lyra, that hurts."

When I looked back up and glanced around, a little embarrassed that my mom probably saw that, both of the adults had vanished from the room. So, I hugged Ethan again in the silence and stillness of it all and pressed my lips against his cheek.

"Ethan, what's going on?" I demanded, letting go of him and sitting on the chair pulled close to his bed. "My mom said that you've been to the hospital before. Why didn't you tell me?"

He looked away, and though it was subtle enough, the flicker of his eyes towards a wheelchair on the other side of the bed made my stomach churn again. "I didn't want you to worry. You've got a lot going for you, you know? It's not a big deal. And… I hate seeing you like this—so worried and everything."

"Of course I'm worried about you, you idiot!" I cried. I inhaled and exhaled slowly to calm myself, but nothing about this—him, this room, this atmosphere—was at all relaxing. "What's going on, Ethan? They said you had a seizure… that's really serious."

"This isn't the first one, actually," he admitted slowly, and a little unsurely, and I grabbed his hand. "I've been taking seizure medication since the accident, but every once in awhile I'll have one, anyway."

"What accident? Everyone keeps mentioning an accident!"

The answer that followed was the moment that I knew why everyone hid this from me—because it made complete sense in some disturbingly logical way. While I was busy living in my own little world, everyone else was protecting me from the knowledge that my ignorance was hurting people. But that was so naïve.

"I was at my grandparents' house during the Goldenrod takeover by Team Rocket. A couple of them came and threatened to take the Pokémon that were in the daycare there, so I fought them off. I thought I could handle more, so I went into the city, and one of the Rockets attacked me with their Arbok. It bit me, and too much time passed before I received treatment. My left leg is permanently paralyzed, and my occasional seizures are part of the package deal," he told me, his voice dry through his explanation.

And that was that—if I had stopped Team Rocket sooner, taken them down when they first appeared… tried harder to get Proton to divulge more details… none of this would have happened. It was all my fault…

"It was just my own stupidity, Lyra. Don't—don't do what I know you're about to do to yourself," Ethan ordered, but it was too late for that.

I stood up, tears bubbling over the edge of my eyelids, and turned around so he couldn't see. "I bet your dad wants to talk," I managed to say, my voice probably betraying me. "I'll go get him. And my mom is worried, too, of course."

"New Year's Eve!" he shouted just as I reached for the door. "I'm going home on New Year's Eve. I'll see you then."

I didn't say anything, but I supposed that I didn't have to. Either way, Ethan was going to show up at my door in two days. It was just… I didn't know how I was going to react—how I was supposed to react. Everything had changed now, hadn't it?

I walked home, brushing past my mom and Ethan's dad, both of whom shouted out to me to stop. But I kept walking, not sure that I even heard them, and let the sound of my own footsteps carry me away. I wasn't sure if I actually felt anything, but I had a hunch that this was what it felt like to have everything fall apart.

Sure enough, at eleven o'clock at night on New Year's Eve, the doorbell rang, and Ethan—standing with the help of crutches on my porch with his wheelchair at the foot of the steps—grinned at me when I opened it a little hesitantly. "Ta-da!" he greeted, and I frowned at him. "I'm here, as promised. And I have plans for you."

"Plans?" I repeated, wondering what he could have possibly done while he was sitting in a hospital bed or in a MRI machine getting tested over and over.

But he only nodded, maneuvering around the other way and prancing down the steps. I watched his lame leg, which just sort of hung there, but when I realized I was staring, I shook myself out of it. And when he settled into his wheelchair, his crutches like a safety bar on top of him, he gestured for me to follow like he always had.

I felt a little awkward walking behind him as he wheeled himself forward. I wanted to help, but I wasn't sure how, and when I reached for the handles once, he shook his head and told me he was fine.

It was cold out today, like any other December afternoon, but it didn't stop Ethan from stopping in his driveway and—instead of moving towards his front door—rose from his wheelchair and used his crutches to head into his backyard.

And there waiting for me was a cake on his picnic table and a couple of presents. He sat down on the ground, though, rather than the picnic table, and set his crutches beside him.

"I don't have extravagant plans," he explained, and I nodded, "but I do have plans nonetheless. Come here, what are you waiting for?"

"Ethan… I don't understand," I started, and he raised an eyebrow. "Why are you doing so much for me? Shouldn't I…"

He just patted the ground beside him, and I sighed and collapsed in the grass next to him. The ground was cold and hard, which made it almost seem damp, but we hadn't yet had snow. I couldn't help but wonder what it felt like for Ethan, who probably couldn't feel it in his leg at all. It was impossible to imagine.

"I still have movement in my thigh, actually," he said, lifting his leg only a couple of inches off the ground. But there was no movement of his knee, nothing in his lower leg, and his foot just sort of dangled there. "Hey, hey, hey, want to see me walk without my crutches? I kind of look like a zombie, you know. My physical therapist always laughed when I said that. Probably 'cause it's true."

I forced a laugh, because I knew that was what he expected, but what he said made me uncomfortable and reminded me that he only walked like a zombie because of me.

He pushed himself up with the help of his one good leg, and he wobbled forward. When he moved his bad leg forward, just sliding across the ground, I thought he might fall, and I reached a hand out towards him instinctually. But he swung his good leg forward so quickly that he maintained his balance, and he did this several times before sitting back down again, huffing and puffing as he fell back against the grass.

"It… it takes… a lot," he told me, in between desperate breaths, and my lip quivered as I fought back tears again. "Like a… zombie."

"Will it not be normal again?"

He sat back up, staring at me, and I didn't hide my tears from him this time. He crawled, almost the same way he had walked, towards me, and when he stopped and sat again, he brushed a tear away from my cheek. It was always him worrying about me. I should have been the first to move, the first to go to him…

"No," he admittedly simply, and then he kissed me.

We had kissed once before, a long time ago, back when I was making my way around Johto. It was one time when I had stopped home to get some money from my mom, and I stopped by his house to say hi. I didn't think either of us knew what came over us—it was just the heat of the moment, the tension drawing us nearer to each other.

This was different—not nearly as happy or fun, but I held the sides of his face in between my hands as gently as a caress, so afraid to break him more than I already had. It was only when we broke apart that Ethan finally laughed, his smile so wide that it was like nothing had changed, after all. But I couldn't even force a smile this time.

"You're so serious," he muttered, lowering his voice and furrowing his brow. "Lighten up. I know it's a shock for you, but I'm over it. It's been over a year, anyway."

"I don't understand how you can be so optimistic…"

"I couldn't live life being miserable. I'm still alive, after all. Things could be a lot worse." He smiled, reaching for my hand, but I slid it out of reach. He frowned, looking away from me and nodding. "To be honest, I told you mom not to tell you what happened. I knew you were almost done the league challenge when everything happened, and I figured that you would move on to Kanto once you were done. I didn't want to stop you."

"You should've—"

"No," he interrupted. "That's not fair. Because I knew the second I told you, you would start blaming yourself for something that you couldn't control. You would have never gone to Kanto—hell, you wouldn't have even fought your last gym. You would've been stuck here with me for a year instead of doing what you love."

But… that wasn't fair either. He could have died. These seizures… they could have killed him—they still could. They hadn't, but… still. The risk of it all was too great. I wanted to be here with him. I didn't care about my dream anymore. I wanted Ethan to be able to do what he wanted, too. And it wasn't fair that he couldn't.

"Come on, this is too depressing. We should be celebrating!" Ethan exclaimed. "It is New Year's Eve, after all! Let's eat some cake and open your presents."

"I didn't get you anything…"

"Eh, you're here—that's all I need," he said with a wink, and I finally smiled for the first time all night. I helped him to his feet and handed him his crutches, and we made our ways over to the picnic table. Through the window near the table, I could see his dad inside watching the television and sipping at a glass of champagne. He had never been much of a party animal.

Feeling that I needed to do something, I cut the cake. It was delicious, as expected of Ethan's dad, who—despite his lack of holiday spirit—made excellent desserts. Once we both finished eating, Ethan pushed the two presents towards me.

"Well, go on," he encouraged, and I tore the wrapping paper off the smaller box. Inside was a silver bracelet with eight gold charms shaped like the Johto gym badges on it. "I saw it in the hospital gift shop, actually, and I thought it would be perfect for you. Do you like it?"

"I love it. Help me put it on." I held my wrist out towards him, and he made several attempts to hook the chain together. After his third or fourth try, he finally hooked it, and the bracelet dangled on my wrist. He was right—it was perfect for me. But I was a terrible friend for not getting anything for him…

He pushed the second box, a little bit bigger and a few times longer, over to me next. I ripped the wrapping paper off and tugged the lid off. Inside this one was a long desk plaque that read "Champion Lyra". I laughed, putting my face in my hands as I tried to regain my composure. That was genius.

"You need it to be official, right?" Ethan asked, and I nodded.

For that moment, as we sat at the picnic table together in the darkness of this cold winter's night—with only the light from the window filling the void—it really did feel like nothing had changed at all. I couldn't see the way his leg lie limp under the table or the way his body absorbed his medicine to stop the excessive neuronal activity in his brain from causing another seizure. And for a moment, I forgot all about the guilt I felt for not having stopped Team Rocket sooner.

But then I glanced down at that plaque and read my name again, and I remembered everything.

"I can't accept this," I told him.

Ethan smiled, a light laugh escaping his lips. "Well, it's not like I could give it to anyone else," he joked.

"I'm serious, Ethan," I barked, and his smile vanished. "I'm sorry, but I can't move on just because you said you have. You're my best friend, Ethan! You're more than that! And the possibility that I could lose you at any point in time is terrifying. I don't want a reminder sitting on my desk that I couldn't help you."

"Stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over—"

"I can't! And I don't know how I'm supposed to repay you now because you're so selfless, and I'm… not. I don't know how to help you."

When the two of us went silent, I could hear the neighbors beginning the countdown to the new year. We just listened to the sound of their excited—and perhaps drunk—voices echoing through the neighborhood. Five, four, three, two, one, and then an eruption of cheers and unintelligible bursts of sound.

Finally, Ethan picked up the plaque from in front of me and turned it over in his hands. "My New Year's resolution is for you to do what you love again for a whole other year. I want you to travel and take on more challenges than you've had in Johto and Kanto combined. And I want you to be the happiest that you've ever been. But you can't do that if you're here with me thinking that you could've done something to stop this." He put the plaque back in front of me, and I stared at my name. "Now, are you going to let my resolution fail?"

I was told once by an adult I met somewhere along my journey that the teenage years into the early twenties was a time to be selfish, and maybe I had let that go to my head. I wanted to keep traveling, like Ethan said, but had I reached the point where I couldn't be selfish anymore? Ethan was already so selfless—when was it his turn?

"I can't—"

"You keep saying you can't, but you can, Lyra. I'm asking you to go." He reached across the table and took my hands, and my eyes began to water again. "It makes me happy when you're happy, and you're not going to be happy here. You need to come to terms with what happened—take some time for you to sort things out. I'll be here when you get back."

"Do you promise? Promise me, Ethan," I pleaded, squeezing his hands.

He smiled, though I could barely see it through the veil of water in front of my eyes. "I promise I'll be here. I'll wait for you for as long as you need to go."

Ethan was right—I needed some time away. It had only been a couple of days, anyway, and if I stayed here, I would just keep reminding myself of everything I had done wrong. But I wasn't going to go to run away from this, either. I would be back someday, right back with Ethan again, and the two of us could go together.

"I'll be back soon," I whispered, leaning across the table and kissing him for the second time that night. It was as desperate as the one earlier, when I had also been crying, and there was a sense of finality to it.

But I would be back, and he would be waiting. Maybe then, when I was a little bit more grown up, I would be able to be as selfless as he was.

"All right," he whispered back, leaning his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, and the last thing I saw was the bracelet on my wrist. "Goodnight, Lyra."

Author's Note: I wonder if you might think that this ending was abrupt, but to me, that was the point of it. Hmm…

This is the last of my three requests, this time for Kazumi Rin. Hope you like it!

Requests are closed for now, but keep checking back to see if I reopen them. And for those of you who read my fanfic "Across the Sun", there's a treat coming up soon for you, so keep your eyes peeled for that!

Thanks for reading!