Author's Note: Wow, I really must thank all of you for your investment in this story! I never expected it to become so popular, but I certainly can't say that I'm not pleased about it. In specific reply to StubblePrince's review: I can definitely see how you thought the relationship in the previous chapter was rushed, and while I do mean for them to eventually move from hating each other to becoming somehow romantic (eventually), I'm trying not to make it happen too quickly. The end of that chapter was sort of the beginning of that start, but, as you'll see in this chapter, it's going to be a very rocky road. Let me know if you still think it feels rushed after this chapter! Also, just a heads up, holiday is over for me now, so I'll probably update both this story and Great Minds about once a week from now on (usually on Fridays or Saturdays). Hope you enjoy the story, feel free to leave comments, and see you next chapter!


Chapter 8

Relocated

She wasn't asleep at 3:30 in the morning. Maxie knew she wouldn't be, which is why he wasn't worried about waking her when he buzzed her doorbell for the second time in less than twelve hours. She let him in. She was, at least, in her pajamas at that point. A pair of reading glasses perched on her freckled nose, and behind her, he saw printouts of graphs and data tables scattered across her bed.

She didn't look surprised to see him. "What did I tell you about staying up so late, Max?" She said, returning to the space she had made for herself on her bed. She didn't ask him to sit because she knew he wouldn't. She knew his habits too well.

"Evidently you didn't give yourself the same lecture, Stevie."

She smiled a little, but kept her attention on her work. "I can't sleep. I'm concerned about the data I've collected."

Maxie tensed. "From Kalos?"

"Yes. I'm still reviewing it, but it isn't heading in a very pleasant direction."

"How long do we have?"

Stevie shrugged. "I need a few more days to examine this, run some more simulations. You know I always submit my reports on time, so why did you really come here?"

Maxie smirked. "You know very well what this is about."

"If you'd like to finish the conversation we started yesterday evening, then by all means go ahead."

Always games with this one. He couldn't say he minded. "No, thank you. I'm rather more interested in another conversation entirely."

"Really. Which one?"

"What did you say to Miss May?"

Stevie put down the chart she was holding and turned his attention to him. "Why do you think I said something to her about you? That's quite egotistical of you, Max."

"Before she spoke to you, she was otherwise occupied attempting to gouge out my eyes and succeeding in kneeing me in the groin. After I found her here, she was eerily pleasant."

The scientist's face broke out into an even wider grin. "Really? How so?"

"She smiled."

"I'm glad to hear that. In case you hadn't noticed, she was in very bad shape before I found her."

"What did you say to her?" He pressed, lowering his voice slightly.

"As your confidant, you wouldn't want me to expose any of the things said between us. I owe May the same privacy, so if you want to know, ask her yourself." Stevie crossed the room to get another soda from the mini fridge. "However, I will say one thing. While I may or may not have supported her idea to try viewing her situation from a different perspective, she alone was the one who actually decided to do it. She could have very well kept on busting your balls every time you two made eye contact, but obviously it seems she chose not to. Maybe you should choose to do the same."

Maxie regarded her for a long moment, and then he clasped his hands behind his back and said, "Goodnight, Stevie."

"Max."

He stopped at the door but did not turn around.

"Keep lying to yourself if you want, but sooner or later you'll realize that you like having her around. I just hope that you come to that realization before she is well and truly gone."

"Her chances of escape or rescue are calculatedly less than one percent."

"Maybe, but when you keep pushing someone away, where else do you expect them to go?"


May slept until noon, and it was the best sleep she'd ever had. For once, she had no trouble falling or staying asleep. When she woke up, her hair stuck up all over her head, but she didn't care. She yawned and walked across the hall to the bathroom. By now the guards outside her room had gotten used to her comings and goings, and, so long as she didn't do anything suspicious, they left her alone. Halfway down the hall she remembered what she had forgotten and dashed back to her room to pick up fresh bandages and the aloe vera cream. Damn if she was going to let Maxie scold her a second time for being a poor patient. Whether it was the man's doctoring or the pain killers she was taking, her wounds did feel better. She was able to walk with only a minor limp now, and if she needed, she could do light work with her left arm.

May showered, addressed her wounds, and changed into one of the spare outfits she had brought, seeing as the last time she saw her original clothes they were on the body of an unconscious grunt. She tied her bandana around her head and walked back to her room.

Food was waiting for her inside. As was a person.

"Stevie, hi," May said. She didn't know what she was more pleased about: the unexpected visitor or the omelet sitting on the countertop.

"Hello." She smiled, sitting at the small round dining table Maxie had had moved in here when she refused to go back to living in a prison cell. "Max is in one of his moods again, so I came to check on you. I figured you haven't eaten yet."

May shook her head, taking her plate and sitting at the table with Stevie. "I just woke up, actually."

Yawning, the other girl said, "I never slept."

May couldn't chastise her for that. She herself had slept only an hour here and there over the past few nights. "You said Maxie is moody today?"

"Not so much moody as antisocial and completely immersed in his work. I suppose I can understand why that's the only thing on his mind right now."

"What do you mean?" May asked, between mouthfuls of food.

"We're leaving for the new hideout tomorrow."

May's fork clattered onto the tabletop. "What?"

"We were supposed to leave several days ago. Some grunts went over to clean it up and make sure everything was working, and it's been ready for a while now. But, since you set yourself on fire trying to escape—yes, Max told me about that—his plans are off schedule."

She knew they would be relocating, but everyone had been talking about it for so long that she didn't think it would actually happen. In truth. . . May didn't want to leave. Not only because her friends wouldn't be able to find the new base, but also because she had gotten used to living here. She wouldn't say she enjoyed being a prisoner, just that it had become familiar. The hospital room, the bathroom, the battle arena, and the kitchen had become the scope of her new world, and she didn't want to leave them behind. They were the only things that gave her life a semblance of normalcy when everything else had taken a drastic turn for the worst.

A cool hand rested on top of hers. "I know you're anxious about leaving, but it will be okay. After all, you got used to living in this hellhole."

May shrugged. She was still unconvinced. "It's bad enough not knowing anyone at all here, but now I'll be trapped with strangers in a completely new environment that could just end up being as hellish as this one, maybe worse."

"You've got Maxie," Stevie offered.

She glared. "That's the opposite of reassuring."

Stevie laughed. "I'm only kidding. But I'm serious when I say that I'll be here for you, whether you have a problem or you just can't sleep and want some company."

"Thank you." Never had May expected to find such kindness in the heart of someone who worked for Team Magma.

"You should pack your things and get some rest," Stevie advised. "We'll be heading out as soon as it gets dark outside tomorrow night. I need to go do the same, in fact."

She pat May on the shoulder as she passed on the way out the room. "And May? Why don't you take a souvenir of something that made you happy here? It'll remind you of it whenever you feel lonely."

May left the empty plate on the table and returned to her bed. Most of the memories she had here were not exactly fond ones. Except for yesterday—well, more accurately, this morning, when Maxie had been eerily pleasant.

Her eyes wandered across the room as she recalled everything that happened, and eventually they landed on the aloe vera leaves still sitting on the countertop, left over from where Maxie had cut some off.

She smiled. She had her souvenir.

It took May less than an hour to pack. She had only come here with her Pokémon, a few pairs of spare clothes, and food for her and her Pokémon. Maxie did not appear that day or the next, so she passed the time sleeping and writing in her diary.

July 29.

This is my last day here. I mean, at this base. I'm still a prisoner. Lately, it hasn't really felt like it, but I'll get to that later. Right now I have to write down everything I can remember about my time here. I hated every minute of it, but it's not something I can let myself forget. I must be able to remind myself of this torture because it means that I can survive anything. So, future me, listen up. Your situation can't be any worse than mine. You'll live through it, just like I am.

First I felt anger, the kind that bellows out of your heart like dragon breath and incinerates you from the inside out. I burned through ever curse word in my vocabulary in two seconds. How dare Maxie beat me! How could he? I was the champion of Hoenn. I could wring his throat.

The first night in my cell was the worst. I beat myself up for everything. How could I be so stupid as to not tell someone where I was going? Why did I even go inside in the first place? Arceus, damn my overconfidence! I was not yet used to being a prisoner, so the only thing I thought about was being free. I felt like I was slowly asphyxiating without it. The best way I can describe it is as a sort of claustrophobia. I kept pushing against the walls of my cell but I couldn't get out. I couldn't be free. I would rather die than stay there one more instant.

I almost did. I knew that when I poured the water on those electrical lines they could spark and catch fire. I didn't care. Staying in that cell was already like being burned alive, so what was the difference?

Then, Maxie came, and he shoved life down my throat. I couldn't escape from that cell, so I was content to burn. He held me under a fire blanket and refused to let me. He put balm on my wounds. I calmed down some. The burning for freedom within me cooled down to a warm and constant smolder. The chanting of "escape, escape, escape" in my head quieted from tribal drumming to a pianissimo lullaby.

The next day, I saw that freedom was within my reach. I reached for it. Maxie slapped my hand away. The lava of my infuriation spewed out of the seething magma chamber of my soul. It burned both of us. It sprayed into my eyes and blinded me.

That was how she found me, blind and explosive and running through the halls. Stevie. The things she said to me somehow penetrated my blindness. Like the aloe vera, she was a balm to my anger. The flames of my desire to be free died all at once like they were doused in water.

Now they are just embers, waiting to be rekindled again. I don't think they will be.

You get used to everything. You drown out the unpleasant parts and focus on the tiny thing that makes you happy so you don't lose it.

For me, the thing that makes me happy is Maxie when he's in a benevolent mood. Those days aren't many, but I hone in on them and try to ignore the others.

This is what happiness is for me. I can't lose it. I will go blind again.


This was it. Time to go. At seven that evening, Maxie came over an intercom and gave them a detailed description of how they would carry out the transfer.

"Departure is at nine. Be prompt, or you will be left behind. There will be thirty-five groups of ten, and we will fly five groups at a time over a span of seven nights. Group one will consist of myself, Stevie Rodgers, the prisoner, admins Lacy Rowlands and Castor Noir, Mack Ernst, Ulanda Tryste. . ."

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. May got to fly with Stevie, at least. And she had to admit that she was excited to be able to go outside again, stretch her legs instead of being cooped up in this awful hospital room. That reminded her; she most certainly needed to speak with Maxie about her new living arrangements. She damn well wasn't about to go back to sleeping in a cell.

Speak of the devil. He showed up an hour after he announced the instructions on the intercom. May's stomach fluttered like a horde of excited Beautifly. After nearly two whole days of peace, she wasn't sure what to expect from him now. His presence was like falling back into an old, forgotten nightmare.

Not quite knowing what to say, May went with what was familiar to her: sarcasm. "So nice of you to drop by."

"I do have other responsibilities besides babysitting a capricious child."

Today was not one of Maxie's benevolent days.

Changing the subject before she said something she would regret, she asked, "What's in your hand?" It was a black strip of cloth.

"A blindfold."

"For what?" May asked, immediately becoming anxious.

He smirked. "Did you honestly think I would allow you to determine the location of two of my bases?"

Her eyes clouded with frustration. "I thought—"

"You thought what?" Maxie snarled, narrowing his eyes as he strode towards May. "That we were on amiable terms now?"

She didn't start backing away until he was well into her personal space. "Not amiable, but I thought we were at least above this."

May hit a wall. Maxie kept coming. When he stopped, he was close enough that she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes, burning like liquid flames.

"Our relationship is nothing more than that of prisoner and captor. Regardless of whatever weak-hearted nonsense Stevie has injected into your head, I am not your friend," he spat. "In case you have forgotten, Miss Maple, you are here because I want to make your life hell."

She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. If he thought she would give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, he was wrong. "Oh, so we're not even on a first name basis now, Dr. Asche?"

"As a prisoner, you don't deserve the privilege."

Her fists squeezed into balls itching to punch him in the throat. "Maybe if you matured a little then you would notice your pedestal isn't that far from the ground!"

"Your disrespect has earned you a place in the dungeons of my new hideout."

May threw a punch at his face, but Maxie caught her fist, twisting her arm into an unnatural position.

She screamed. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Let go of me."

He tightened his grip on her fist before releasing her, his arm returning to his side. "I don't think I've made myself clear," he growled, slowly, like a madman. He grabbed May by the back of the head, his fingers digging into her hair, and yanked her head up. "Your raison d'être is to suffer. Understand?"

May shoved against his chest. "No, I don't, and from the way you're behaving, I don't think you yourself understand either."

He let go and pulled her along by the arm, his hold much too tight. "I think you need an example."

Everyone in the halls scurried out of their way as quickly as physically possible, and with good reason. Maxie looked like he could kill a man. He dragged her downstairs, to the battle arena. The one with the massive fissure marring the ground.

Pulling two poke balls out of the inner pockets of his coat, he said, "These are two of your Pokémon."

No. . .

"Say goodbye to them."

"No!" May tried to wrestle them out of his hands, but he held them above his head where she couldn't reach.

Maxie walked to the edge of the fissure. "Just remember," he said, "that you did this."

He dropped both balls down into the black, yawning fissure.

May shrieked, attempting to launch herself into the fissure to go after them, but Maxie snagged her around the waist and jerked her back.

"Which ones?" She screamed, twisting and kicking and trying to get away. "Which Pokémon were they?"

"Swampert and Pyroar."

May froze in his arms. Swampert was her very first Pokémon, and Steven had brought her that Pyroar back from Kalos.

"Do you see now, you asinine child?" How could he be so calm when he had just murdered two Pokémon? "I intend to repay every injury you have caused me."

"Well, I'm glad I stopped your plans for Groudon because I'd hate to live in a world ruled by you!"

An indolent smile crept its way across Maxie's face. "That is exactly the world you live in."


Author's apology: Sorry for the cliffhanger! But, then again, not really. The last chapter ended nicely, so I figured I would spice things up a bit. :)