This is something new that I decided to start a while ago. It's a bit different than the original Pokemon story and there are some definite changes that you will discover as the story goes on. I hope you all like it! :)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the Pokemon Franchise, only the OC's in this story belong to me.
Fate Has A Sick Sense Of Humor
I.
If there was one thing she had learned from all of this, it was to make sure to always have an escape plan, it was especially important. It was also important to check said escape route before devious plan is carried out… to make sure than sudden moving schedule hadn't been changed, causing people to be where they should not. If both of these unfortunate events coincide, one should make sure that she is a fast runner, and has good stamina.
Damn grunts. Damn schedule. Damn everything.
These were the thoughts that were currently whirling through her head as she was running for her life through the trees, trying to get as far away as possible before-
BOOM!
She let out a hiss of pain as she dived over a fallen log, the heat of the blast seared her skin. Sticks and rocks grated against her, causing her to take a sharp intake of breath. She peeked above the log to see a huge fire burning in the distance, cutting through the darkness. The massive plumes of smoke rose towards the heavens as the screams reached her ears.
The sound that was loudest to her was her ragged breathing, and it hitched painfully as she tenderly ran her hand over her right side. She winced as she found her injury; her stitches had opened up again, damn. That's what she had been trying to avoid.
Smoke filled the air and sirens wailed in the distance, causing her to smirk. That should put them out of business for another week. She looked up, waiting patiently for the rain to fall, and she relaxed as she felt water droplets land in her hair. That would at least help them with the fire. She stiffened as the quick pitter-patter of large feet could be heard. She peeled her backpack off and reached in, waiting, breathless as her fingers closed around her main source of defense. All sounds faded away as she concentrated.
A massive orange creature emerged. It was huge, standing six feet at the shoulder with a glossy white mane and jagged black stripes. Vicious pairs of long, pale teeth glinted as the arcanine bared his teeth, sniffing the air.
The girl released the breath she was holding as the pokemon came and licked her cheek, giving a tiny whine as he sniffed her injuries.
"Hey, bud." She said softly, stroking the wide forehead, "We did it. That's another base down."
He lifted his head, resting it on her shoulder and let out a puff of hot air, content. The girl smiled, running her fingers along the soft fur. There were a few scratches here and there, but it was nothing a trip to the pokemon center couldn't fix.
She pulled the pokeball out of her bag, "You did great tonight, Archie. But you shouldn't be out in the rain. Return."
A soft, warm, red light illuminated her tired face as the pokemon before her disappeared. Long, greasy, dirty, dark brown hair matched with greenish grey eyes. Scratches covered her face, and some of the blood had already dried. Her dark blue jacket, black undershirt, and blue track pants were completely splattered with mud and blood, and even the knees on her pants had ripped, exposing already cut up skin. And she knew that her running shoes were completely ruined.
She heaved a deep sigh and slowly got to her feet, focusing on her breathing to keep the nausea away. She braced herself on the log and took a deep breath, before picking up her backpack and strapping it on, ignoring the pain that went shooting down her spine.
As she trudged weakly through the trees favoring the limp on her right leg, her thoughts wandered back to the base that she had just blown up. It was the fifth time she'd destroyed a Team Rocket base in the last year and the third time she'd used that tactic. She thought they would have been used to it and expected it by now. Unfortunately, that strategy, even though it was the most effective, left her the most beat up. For it to work, she had to 'get caught'. After that, there was usually an interrogation. As to why she did what she did and how she had gotten in and what her plan was and blah, blah, blah. It was all very boring. And then the beat down came. Team Rocket was always very creative in their torture methods; that's for sure. After they were satisfied, they would leave her for a few hours to nurse her wounds. She was forced to hope that she would still be able to walk after these. So far, it hadn't been too much a problem. There were a few instances where she had needed a walking stick, but it was never as bad as it could have been. That's what she told herself, at least. She would always make sure to stash her backpack a good mile or so away from the base. She always took arcanine, flareon or houndoom. Charmeleon wasn't quite up for the task yet.
Before they got to the base, they would review the plan, and then each would work on their section once they got there. And then all hell would break loose, and it was beautiful. When she was 'captured', and thrown into a basement, office, cell or whatever else they had. Once she escaped from her bindings (usually handcuffs, rope, zip-ties etc.), the hunt for the master control panel began. The boiler room in some of the bigger bases proved to be a popular spot. In her second attempt to screw with them, she figured out that a few crossed wires and added some fire, and electrical bomb was triggered with a fifteen-minute limit before it blows. Arcanine was usually the best candidate because of his advanced hearing. He did some damage, came when she called, they set the bomb, and then he would lead them on a wild goose chase while she slipped out the back door. She always made sure that she pulled the fire alarm as she went out, causing the building to immediately evacuate. So far, there had been no casualties in the now three different times she had blown up a base. She was quite proud of herself.
She looked down and checked the battered watch on her wrist. It was just after eleven pm. She would have to get her pokemon healed and head to another town before she could rest. Ah, the joys of being a fugitive. She would also be able to avoid local authorities. She would head to Cianwood next, it was the most isolated, didn't have a police force, and she would be able to spend about a week there before worrying that Rocket would track her down. A whole week to rest, it would be so nice.
The lights of Goldenrod shone brightly ahead, like a beacon in the darkness. She was going to look amazing walking into the Pokemon center the way she looked now, all beat up and mangled, not to mention; completely soaking wet. But she was used to the stares over the years, so how bad could it possibly be?
As she walked through the doors, she was grateful it was late. There were only a few people in the lobby, and they all stopped to stare at her.
She held her chin high and ignored them as she approached the counter.
Nurse Joy looked shocked. "My goodness! What in Arceus's name happened to you?"
She shrugged, "Just got into a scrap with some old friends."
The old nurse bit her lip in worry. "Would you like me to look you over when I finish healing your pokemon?"
When she remained quiet, the Nurse added, "I won't ask questions. I just want to get you patched up."
She blinked in surprise. Most of the nurses in the other pokemon centers she'd gone to had offered the same. Unfortunately, the irritable and concerned question always came with it. She usually refused to answer. She knew that they were just worried about a poor girl that looked like she had been to hell and back. However, that concern usually led them to alert local authorities, and considering Rocket had at least one or two operatives on every police force (that she suspected), it would not do well for them to take her into custody. So, to avoid all those technicalities, she would politely decline their offer. She'd stitched herself up the last few times, and with a few over the counter painkillers, she usually turned out just fine.
"And…you won't contact the authorities?" She asked hesitantly.
Nurse Joy shook her head. "Not if you don't want me to."
"Yes…if you don't mind then… that would be…nice."
The nurse nodded and offered her a tentative smile as she handed over the six pokemon that needed to be healed. She had to dig through all of her pokemon to find them; it took her a few moments to find the right ones. A few years ago, a certain someone (not her of course!) had discovered that Team Rocket had hacked into Bill's computer system and was managing to steal pokemon without the trainer even realizing it until it was too late. Thousands were stolen across the planet and some haven't yet been recovered. She was one of the lucky ones and gotten her eevee, now her espeon, back and exposed them. Within two weeks, no one dared use the P.C system, not even for items. About a month later, Bill announced that he had completely remade the system and that it was now safe because he encrypted each box of each personal trainer with a certain code, and therefore it was impossible to break into. Also, he added a password function, almost like a bank account, that would notify the trainer immediately if a pokemon was withdrawn without authorization.
During those brief few months, everyone pulled their pokemon from the P.C and just carried them all around with them, although there was still a six pokemon per battle limit, otherwise the battle was not valid. The balls minimized easily, so if you had a big enough bag, there was no problem. Once Bill announced that he fixed the problem, most trainers returned to using the P.C, but she didn't think it was worth the risk.
"Okay, here you go." Nurse Joy said happily, handing her back her pokeballs. "Now, let's take a look at you."
She nodded mutely, slipping her pokeballs into her backpack and following the nurse into a back room. It was small, nothing more than an exam table, some equipment and a curtain to make things private.
"Alright dear," Nurse Joy said kindly, "First, can you tell me your name?"
"Melissa." She said automatically, immediately falling into her façade. "Melissa Vaine."
Nurse Joy smiled at her. "Okay, Melissa. Can you tell me what hurts?"
She slowly put her hand on her side, letting out a slow breath as pain raced through her. "I think I reopened my stitches and maybe broke a rib. My right ankle is twisted pretty badly. Other than that, most scratches and cuts are superficial and they'll be gone in a few days."
The nurse nodded, "Alright, can you put your hair up for me?"
She nodded, pulling her dirty excuse for hair up into a messy bun, allowing the Nurse to get a good look at the scars on her back.
The moments passed on in silence as the nurse bustled about. She cleaned and bandaged the cuts that needed them, provided her band aids for the small ones, and wrapped her ankle saying that it would be fine in a few days. When she came to her ribs and examined them, she paused.
"I'm going to need to clean and re-stitch this, it's going to hurt."
She nodded, bracing herself, "Just get it over with."
Nurse Joy hesitated, before taking a deep breath and pressing the cloth with antiseptic to the wound.
She went rigid, letting out an angry hiss and mentally counting backwards from ten. It hurt like hell, but pain was only temporary, and after a few seconds, it faded.
Nurse Joy let out a sigh of relief, "The worst is over. I put some lidocaine in there as well; it should help numb the skin to make the stitches less painful. "
She blinked at her, slightly amazed. "Thanks."
The nurse smiled in a motherly way, "it's not trouble at all dear. Although I suggest you take a shower sometime tomorrow to clean everything out again. "
She nodded.
Once she was all stitched up and ready, she dug through her massive backpack and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. She would have to toss the ones she was wearing; there was no way she would be able to get all of the blood out. She changed quickly, not wanting to stay for too long.
As she stood to leave, she realized something. Turning to Nurse Joy, she asked, "Thanks for not asking questions."
The Nurse smiled grimly at her. "It just so happens that the old abandoned warehouse a few miles into the forest was blown up recently. I had heard it was a Team Rocket base. So I assume, judging by your wounds, that you were somehow involved. For that, I thank you."
She allowed herself to give the kind hearted nurse a warm smile. "Don't mention it. They deserved it."
The Nurse nodded and handed her a small bottle of pills. "These will help with the pain and take away any drowsiness. Make sure to take them with food though, and never on an empty stomach. And don't take them any longer than you need too."
She nodded before shouldering her backpack. "Thanks, again, for everything."
She paused at the door and turned back to the Nurse, who met her eyes curiously. "Do you need anything else, dear?"
She bit her lip, and knew she was going to regret this. "My name is Cyron."
Nurse Joy smiled and nodded before bustling away.
And with that, Cyron cracked her knuckles and walked confidently out into the city, disappearing into its depths.
Review? :)
