Chapter 1: Knock, Knock!
One of Lucian's favorite hobbies was reading. On his piddling list of treasured activities, reading came second only to sleeping.
'At least ten hours a day,' that was his modus operandi and rarely did he deviate. Not that he had very many options. Snoozing like a Snorlax was a distraction to the rest of his life which, at the moment, wasn't all that engaging and hadn't been for about as long as he could remember. As a bonus, sleep also made the hands on the face of time crawl by a little faster.
If today sucked, maybe tomorrow would be better. Lucian liked to think of himself as an optimist.
Sleeping. Or trying to. That's precisely what he was currently in the process of doing. Unfortunately, his bladder beckoned some time ago, rousing him from sleep's sweet embrace.
Lazy as a Slakoth, it took him maybe a half-hour to drag himself out of bed. But who was counting?
Heavy rain battered against the bathroom skylights above. Not a glint of light funneled through.
"What time is it?" Lucian mumbled drowsily. He couldn't tell if it was the dead of night or just a dreary day. Not that it really mattered.
As the water whooshed in the toilet, he thought he heard something downstairs.
Tiptoeing down the spiral staircase, he found the dark-haired intruder in the kitchen. Standing with her back turned behind the stove, he noticed that she was armed with a spatula.
He sneaked up behind her.
"Boo!"
Releasing a sharp scream, the intruder pirouetted like a ballerina and glanced down at his mirth with disapproving eyes. Despite their being the same pair he had known his entire life, the cerise hue of her irises never ceased to amaze him.
"Hello, mother."
She tried to stifle a grin, but failed miserably. "Lucy, you scared the crap of me," she said, sounding a mixture of cross and happy. "What are you doing up so early?"
"About that," he said, yawning and shamelessly scratching the crack of his ass. "Is it early in the morning or early in the evening?"
She laughed with amusement, though Lucian noted they were strained with exhaustion. "It's just past six." When he began pouting, she giggled again. "Sorry, sleepyhead, silly me. Six in the p.m.!"
"P.M.," Lucian echoed, his eyebrows skyrocketing. Debating whether he should ask, he frowned. After a moment of consideration, he decided to do it. "How long have you been home?"
She looked hesitant to provide an answer. "I got off a few hours ago," she admitted after a few seconds.
His lips sank further. All this time he had been lying in bed, wide-fucking-awake, while she was home. "We could have spent the afternoon together," he said, hung up on the missed opportunity. "I wish you'd woken me up when you got in."
A small, sad grin formed on her waxen face. "I'm sorry, Lucy. I just woke up a few minutes ago, myself. Like you, I ended up falling asleep."
The dark circles under her eyes told Lucian everything he needed to know.
"Ah, well, that makes sense," he garbled, unable to shake the guilt of his display of insolence. He glanced at the partially-prepared meal sitting on the counter. "Hey, you should grab some more sleep. Whatever your cooking, I can finish it."
Without her consent, verbal or otherwise, he gently stole the spatula from his mother's grip. Moments after he did, it wiggled in his hand. Then, it wrenched completely free. Soaring through the air, it slowed until returning to its previous home in his mother's grip. "You get enough sleep for the both of us, Lucy," she teased, her cerise eyes twinkling. "I have a better idea. How about we finish breakfast together?"
A genuine smile came to Lucian's face. "Breakfast. Don't you mean dinner?"
She complimented his smile with one of her own. "I just woke up from a marathon two-hour nap, Lucy. Feels like a new day to me, and this being the first meal of the day makes it breakfast."
As Lucian wolfed down the ample helpings of food in his plate like a vacuum cleaner, he couldn't help from noticing his mother's frequent glances to the Holocaster positioned on the table next to her napkin.
"How's the grub?" he asked.
Poking laboriously at her plate with her fork, she glanced up and blushed. Her mouth full, she nodded enthusiastically and held up her finger for him to wait.
He forced a laugh.
"It's delicious, Lucy," she told him after another minute of savoring mastication. "Really, you're becoming quite the chef."
"Thanks," he said before locking onto her gaze. "You've got to go, don't you?"
Her smile slipped. "I've got to be back at the Gym by eight o'clock," she said bluntly.
"I knew it," Lucian groaned.
His mother arose from her seat, making the vinyl floor groan as the legs of the chair scraped against them. "There's a Trainer who booked a Battle at eight. I just skimmed the dossier on her. It's hard to tell for sure, but she looks like the real deal. I'd better be waiting for her if and when she cruises to the finish line."
Lucian tried his best hide his bitterness. "I understand," he said.
Sometimes, he wished his mother wasn't the Saffron City Gym Leader. It wasn't easy for him, and it had certainly taken its toll on her in more ways than one. All the Gyms in the Kanto region operated twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. His mother's Gym was no exception. As its esteemed leader and the Marsh Badge's last line of defense, technically she was on duty round-the-clock.
His mother made a move for his plate. "I'll take care of it," he insisted. "Yours too. After all these years, if there's two things I'm good at it's cooking food and washing the dishes afterwards."
A wave of sadness washed over his mother's face. For a few moments, no words passed between them. Still seated at the table, through a sidelong glance he watched her slip into her jacket and adjust the Pokéballs fastened to her belt.
"Lucian."
He looked at her head on.
"If you're open to the idea…" she spoke carefully as if it was a touchy subject, "I'd like to set up an appointment with another doctor."
His eyebrows furrowed. "I just saw Dr. Muro last month."
"Dr. Muro is a charlatan!" She exclaimed before shaking her head. "I just think you need a new doctor, that's all. And…a few days ago, I noticed that you haven't been taking your medicine."
"Yeah, I stopped popping those pills few weeks ago," he said, feeling guilty that she had to make this discovery for herself instead of him being open about it. "They don't do anything but give me insomnia."
Pulling up a chair, she sat down at the table again and rubbed his arm affectionately. "We're going to beat this thing, Lucy. Never stop believing that. And never stop praying to Arceus about it."
"Yeah, I know," he said, not in the mood for this sort conversation.
She squeezed his hand. "I'd better go."
"I know that, too," he said, laughing. She joined him. "See yah later, mother."
Sabrina arose and, hunching down, hugged him tightly. "Goodbye, Lucy."
"Can I say goodbye to Alakazam?" he said as she turned away to leave.
"Oh! Of course."
His mother held up the Pokéball which harbored her most powerful beast; the famed Alakazam of the Psychic Mistress. How he wished he could meet the creature face to face. Or meet a Pokémon of his very own, for that matter. His mother left the house just a few minutes past seven p.m. Traveling on foot and in the rain couldn't be fun. Even still, Lucian wished he could accompany her to the heart of the city.
After washing the dishes, Lucian slithered back upstairs to his room. Slumping down on the chair in front of his desk, he switched on his PC and began perusing the day's news.
Even at a glance, he could tell they reeked of sensationalist bullshit.
One headline shamelessly foisted this headline: Cynthia, Lance Favorites to Win Kanto Monster Tamer Championship, Unless Red Shows Up
Clickbait, at its finest. Even after all this time, some rose-tinted glasses wearing imbeciles still clung to the myth that Red was the most talented Trainer who ever lived. Legend. G.O.A.T. The Very Best. Sure, he was the youngest person to ever be become a Champion at seventeen, but the guy was a one-time Pokémon Champion. One and done. Nobody had seen him in going on two decades. Since then what had he accomplished? Nothing of merit, that was for sure. If by some miracle, he did rise from the proverbial grave and show up at the tournament, crusty at forty and rusty as all hell, he'd be knocked out in the first round.
A particularly raucous piece grabbed Lucian's attention. This wasn't yellow journalism. Not black comedy, either. The title read: Big Riddle Inn Fire Work of Arsonist
Lucian remembered reading about it last week. Four days' prior, at around 3:30 a.m., Blaine's lavish hotel on Cinnabar Island caught fire and, minutes later, burned down to the ground. At least twenty people perished in the flames; most of the victims had yet to be identified. Blaine himself, the elderly proprietor of the Big Riddle Inn and highly respected Fire Gym Leader, hadn't been seen since and was amongst the suspected dead, or as the reporter not so eloquently put it, "Those cooked to a crisp."
The whole situation was dreadfully ironic. According to the article, the authorities had now determined that instead of a horrible accident, it was "…evident that somebody torched the place." If there was veracity to those allegations, that meant twenty plus innocent people were murdered.
If that article made him sick to his stomach, this one had him rolling his eyes: Is Lt. Surge the Father of Sabrina's Love Child?
This ought to be good, he thought. The piece started out like this:
[Who is the father of Sabrina's love child, the nineteen-year-old recluse, Lucian? Long has the truth lived and breathed in the shadows. Over the years, dozens of men have come forward claiming to be the one who planted his seed inside her womb. All of these claims have since gone unsubstantiated, and The Psychic Mistress herself has refused time and time again to put the case to bed. This, of course, has forced myself and other brave journalists to seek the truth, of which we happily disseminate for public consumption. For it is our belief that the truth deserves to live and prosper. After many years of meticulous research and fact mining, we still have very little in terms of tangible evidence. Nevertheless, today we proudly present to our readership a big What If – that being – What If Lt. Surge is Lucian's father?
Surge and Sabrina were photographed together on numerous occasions twenty odd years ago. Out on Gym-related business, or were they hooking up? The answer to that is obvious. Clearly, one of these salacious trysts resulted in Sabrina's out of wedlock pregnancy. That's right. Think about it. Let it marinate.]
Lucian felt like banging his head on the wall. Who the fuck wrote this garbage, he thought before staring at the computer screen and losing himself in a reverie.
What if the Lieutenant really is my father?
A crack of submerged thunder sent his eyes scurrying away from the ridiculous online article.
Down, not up.
Was he hearing things? Perhaps it was just the heavy rain fueling his imagination.
No, there it was again. Three soft, distant notes.
It sounded like someone was rapping on the front door all the way downstairs.
It can't be mother, he reminded himself. Curious, he got up and sprinted down the hallway, and then a second, lengthier hallway before finally pacing alongside the railing overlooking the main lobby to his mother's mansion.
Another round of knocks sent the hairs on the back of his neck upright. From where he was standing, the knocking was more than a little obnoxious; the entire house seemed to tremble.
He tiptoed down the winding staircase. About halfway down, the mellifluous voice of an angel greeted his ears.
"Sabrina, we know you're in there! This is the police! Open up!"
An angel? No. Law enforcement? Ostensibly. That piqued Lucian's interest. Curiosity clashed with droplets of skepticism. Standing in front of the door, his clammy hand darted to the bolt above the knob. Shaky fingers caressed the cold metal. His breaths were short and arduous, and his heart pounded in his chest, turbulent and daring him to do it.
The door skidded open, at least as far as the chain would allow. A cool wind blew in through the separation, and the symphony of the tempest outside amplified. Lucian craned his neck, looking for the source of the disturbance. When he found it, he very nearly shrieked like a frightened little girl.
Enormous black eyes without irises goggled across from him.
"Why hello there, citizen."
Everything above Lucian's neck instantly flushed. Eyes? No, that was inaccurate. Those, his shambolic mind finally processed, were a pair of aviator glasses perched on the celestial nose of a very attractive woman.
"Mmmornin' mma'am…" Self-conscious of his steaming cheeks, he could barely squeeze the words out.
The lady at the door adjusted her hat. Decorated with an official looking insignia, it was of a navy-blue hue, much like the shoulder-length tresses that spilled below as well as the uniform wrapped tightly around her slim yet well-endowed womanly figure.
Gulping audibly, Lucian attempted language again. "An Officer Jenny...what, uh, can I do for you?"
"This is Sabrina's residence, correct?" she asked pointedly.
It didn't take long to process that question. "Yes, that's right."
She frowned. "So, who are you?"
"I'm her son, Lucian…"
"Her son?" She stroked her pointy chin. "Ah, yes, that's right. Sabrina is a mother." She grinned, baring a set of immaculate pearls which glowed starkly white in contrast to her tanned complexion. "Tell me son of Sabrina, is your mother home?"
Having few connections in the outside world and spending close to zero time with any member of the female species save for his mother, Lucian gawked at her sensual smile for a few seconds before coming to his senses. "I'm sorry Officer," he shook his head adamantly, "but if you're looking for the Mistress of Psychic Pokémon, you won't find her here. At this time of night, she's usually staffing at the Saffron City Gym. If it's neither particularly urgent nor classified information, I can deliver a message to–"
"I was just there," the Jenny interjected, frustration patent in her tone. "The Gym's leader was absent."
"Well, I'm not sure how long ago you left, but you must have just missed her. The schedule is booked for tonight, so she has to be there. As a matter of fact, I guarantee it."
The Officer adjusted her sunglasses, pushing them further up the bridge of her nose. "Listen," she sounded jaded now, "I have already been inconvenienced once this evening. Now we're caught in this wicked storm without, as you may have noticed, an umbrella. A roof under my head would be appreciated." She flashed her perfect teeth. "Depending upon how hospitable you are, I could also go for a cup of coffee. What do you think?"
Making a lady, and an Officer Jenny at that, stand outside in the rain – getting drenched – it was not how his mother raised him. It only took Lucian a few seconds to consider her proposal. "Do you have any Pokémon walking around with you?" he asked, his eyes widening upon spotting the trio of Pokéballs dangling at her hip.
"Three Pokémon accompany me, these days," she said, her nostrils flaring for some reason.
"But they're inside their respective balls, right?" he said anxiously. "One isn't prancing around somewhere next to you or," he tried to get a better look at her through the gap, "sitting on your shoulder?"
"That is correct," she replied.
"Okay, cool," he unlatched the chain. "Alright, you can come in…" His voice trailed off as someone else came into view.
The guy was tall, a whole half-a-head taller than Lucian who at six-feet three-inches was quite elevated himself. Slabs of muscle strained the seams of his navy-blue constable uniform. Slung around one of his burly shoulders was a bulgy-looking burlap sack. A monster of a man from the neck down, he possessed the strikingly soft, almost effeminate facial features of a male model.
The Officer Jenny introduced themselves as members of the Saffron City Police Department (SPD). "I am Officer Albina," she said, "and this is my deputy, Officer Einstein."
Lucian bowed to each of them respectfully. "Please, follow me," he said. Circumventing the staircase leading to the second floor, he took them to the enchanting ballroom his mother had reserved for guests a few times in years past. "Make yourselves at home," he even went so far as to pull out a chair for the each of them. Once they were seated and looking comfortable, he took a deep breath. "If you don't mind my asking," he said, still standing, "is something wrong, Officers? Why are you looking for my mother?"
The duo exchanged glances. Like the female Officer, a pair of broad black sunglasses were plastered over the eyes of her male counterpart. Despite being indoors, neither had bothered yet to remove them.
The Officer Jenny was clearly in charge, because she was always the one to orate. "Official Police business," she stated simply. "I'm afraid I cannot elaborate."
Lucian's lips formed a straight line. "I understand," he said, bobbing his head.
Just the way the light from the chandelier overhead cascaded down below, it painted the rims of the policewoman's sunglasses with a flashy glare. "I will divulge this," she said evenly. "We are conducting a criminal investigation and would just like to ask Sabrina a few questions. You're certain she isn't here?"
Lucian forced a smile. "I wouldn't stretch the truth, Officer Jenny. It's really just me holding down the fort in this big place."
The Jenny remained silent for several moments, her clenched hands resting on the glass surface of the table. She bobbed her head of blue hair slowly, and then threw him a gracious smile. "You have been very helpful, Lucian. Thank you for your cooperation. Before we depart, what is the status of that cup of coffee?"
"Oh shit, I almost forgot!" Lucian uttered before cupping his mouth. Grinning sheepishly behind his fingers, he dropped his hand when the Officer Jenny reacted to his cursing with a fit of cute feminine mirth. "I can make two, if he would like one," he offered, referring to the muscled policeman who had yet to utter a single word. Even still, Lucian was feeling less on edge and more comfortable around the both of them.
"That's sweet of you," the policewoman said approvingly. "We accept your kind offer."
"Two cups of coffee, coming right up," Lucian said with as much reverence as he could muster.
On his way to the kitchen, adrenaline ran through his body. For the first time in months, maybe years, he felt important, as if reenergizing these two Police Officers with a caffeinated beverage was a bona fide way of contributing to society. On top of that positive feeling, the Officer Jenny's cute smile stayed etched in his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about it, and about her.
At the same time, something else gnawed on his thoughts. He knew the men and women in blue consulted his mother on a regular basis. Sabrina being the most powerful Pokémon Trainer in the city by far, it made sense, but it was also her unofficial duty as a Gym Leader to help protect the local residents and infrastructure. With all the craziness he saw in the news lately, what was it this time?
He hardly heard it, the incessant, gravelly crunching sound of the coffee machine; despite filling the room, it did little to penetrate his thoughts. There was a lot on his mind, enough that when the machine ceased hiccupping, that fact went unnoticed for a good two or three minutes.
Carefully positioning the two cups on a tray, he bit his lip at the realization that he never actually asked his honorable guests if they held any preferences. He grabbed some cream and a bag of sugar for good measure.
"Sorry for taking so long…" Stumbling into the room, he stopped as if slamming into a brick wall. His jaw came loose. The tray nearly slipped out of his hands.
At the roundtable. Not two…but three seats were now occupied. There was the lady in blue, her athletic deputy, and now a third guest who was sitting with their back turned. Judging by the narrow shoulders, they had to be a she. Wispy azure tresses fell unevenly above a pale, slender neck.
For a fleeting moment, Lucian surmised it was another Officer Jenny. That initial impression was crushed the instant it swiveled in its unsanctioned seat.
The eyes that pierced his were orange as the sun, bright like it too, and inhuman.
Lucian screamed even before the pain arrived. His eyes fled, but by then it was too late. A blistering flame ignited within his retinas and spread back beyond them like wildfire.
In agony he screamed again, at the top of his lungs. The tray slipped from his grip and crashed to the floor. Streams of hot coffee spattered around his feet.
"N-no Pokémon are allowed inside this how-houz…" he heard himself hiss frantically as he cradled his head. His mouth parched, he swallowed in quick succession, hoping his saliva alone would be enough to irrigate the raw, arid sensation.
"I-I need you t-to r-returrr… you…y-your…" His words hit a barricade as his frenzied gaze stumbled upon a new horror. Underneath the table were the stately pair of gams that belonged to the Officer Jenny. But it wasn't those long legs bared beneath her skirt that ensnared his attention; it was the silhouette of something else lying next to them – something with eyes that smoldered like hot cinders.
The grip Lucian had on his temple rescinded. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. Even before he landed face-first onto the hard limestone floor, everything had already faded to black.