Last Week: Jill, Jade, and Joe made it to Violet City without any problems. Marc, however, is an entirely different story. The three left the center and returned en route to Cherrygrove, hoping to find Marc before a flock of vulture diet Spearows did first. When they did find Marc, a fight comenced over who would claim him. Jade accidentally killed an elderly Spearow through voltage enduced heart failure, and was saved from quenching another one's thirst for revenge by Marc. Of course, even in his poisoned state, Marc didn't get away with it without snapping his neck. After the two deaths, the rest of the flock fled.

Currently Injured: Marc, suffering from a Weedle sting. All, suffering from various talon and beak wounds. Status for Jill, Joe and Jade is Stable, Marc is Near Death.

Author's Note: Not one of my most action packed chapters, especially comparing with chapter seven. The answer for where I learned how to write is the quiet comfort of my bedroom, a notepad, anda sharpened pencil. The best teacher in creative writingis practice, so work hard, reviewer.


Chapter Eight: The Promise

"Jade! Are you okay?" Jill charged over to me with concern, one eye completely covered with the blood of a gash on her forehead. "I saw you being taken away by that Spearow…all I could think about was what must've gone through your mind…" Her voice broke, and tears were crawling down her face.

"I killed him."

"What?" She stopped crying and looked down to meet my unruly stare.

"I killed him! I shocked the Spearow that was carrying me and it- he died! I don't know why he did…he was an ancient old bird." Crying as freely as her, I ran up to my twin's leg, pushing away the vines that were meant to be an embrace. You're suppose to use your arms for hugging. I thought bitterly, bawling harder than ever.

"Jill, Jade, we need to get Marc to the center. Now." Joe said to us, bending over and lifting one of Marc's eyelids expectantly, getting nothing in response but an unconscious grayness of the pupil. He beckoned his fire close to Marc's eye, but it stayed the same wide size.

"Gimme a minute!" I yelled, sobbing. "I'm sure if you killed someone you wouldn't be too eager to travel either."

His noisy bounding was the only warning I had when he lifted me up by the scruff, diggin his claws deep into the skin. "We don't have a minute!" He shouted in my face, flecking my cheeks with spit.

Dropping his dazed friend like a rucksack, he dashed over to the bush, pulling it apart with his claws. Dragging the big bundle of thorns in his mouth, he threw it to the ground beside Marc, spitting out the remains of the plant. At first he hesitated in front of the lopsided oval of branches, then heaved himself onto it, flattening it out so it looked a lot like a hammock.

Grunting in pain, he shook the spikes off of his body, and then turned to us, looking for help. "I could use a hand getting Marc on this thing. Well? Hurry it up!" Panic was molding his current personality into an impatient child.

Lost for words, we hauled him onto the thorny bedding, glancing anxiously at the dribble of blood spattering among the branches. Now that my fear was subsiding, the pain in my shoulder exploded into consciousness, making the simple task of dragging Marc nearly impossible. Whenever my heart pulsed, a small amount pumped out, mixing with the trail of blood the other two were making.

I tried to count my strides to keep the mind busy, one step every second, but that soon became uneven, my feet stumbling on unseen obstructions. Even with the strength of Jill and Joe, the burden was frighteningly heavy, and it became harder to hear Marc's raspy breaths. The minutes melded together, allowing time to make no sense. Instead, I judged it by how much weaker I had become in comparison to the last time I questioned my strength. But what scared me the most was the fact that I couldn't feel the pain in my shoulder anymore, just a terrifying numbness. Whenever I tried to move it, it would twitch wildly out of place, the only clue it was moving a nauseating flapping banging against my side.

"Marc…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" Joe whispered, holding his brother's stiif, sweaty hand tightly. "We can't keep carrying you like this. Look at us…we'll hardly get there even without you."

I shivered, tugging at the bedding and the cold body inside closer to my uninjured shoulder. "Joe, we can't leave him." I slurred, the words stumbling over themselves worse then my legs.

"I know." He grumbled, struggling for a faster pace. "But I'm starting to think…even if we get to the center, it might be all for nothing. It won't be in time." Even as he spoke, Marc convulsed weakly in the bedding, panting and clawing at an unseen enemy.

"You know in those fantasy novels we read, how the main character's life changes so suddenly from a drag existence, to a hero, and won't be the same ever again when the story ends?" I didn't bother asking Jill, who only read books when she was forced to.

He nodded, scowling at the ground. "That sounds like us. Lets just hope we have an ending."

We were all silent after that, concentrating on making that one step, then the other, a repetitive cycle that seemed endless. And when we finally reached the city, it felt like a dream when I looked up at the glittering lights of the center, blinding my eyes. Already a nurse was shuffling out, beckoning us inside with a frightened glance at Marc she failed to hide. Turning to Jill and Joe, I smiled, shuddering in relief and fatigue.

After that it was a blur to me. Now that I knew Marc was in good hands I suddenly became aware of how badly I was bleeding. Everything seemed slow, pasted with a white hue. Dimly I felt the nurse (or was it a different one…) placing a single finger on my tiny wrist and lifting me up by the extra layer of skin behind my neck. "Thank you," I mumbled clumsily, shuddering from head to tail. "I was very tired…very tired…"

"Yes, yes dear. It's the blood loss that's making you tired. But you need to stay awake a little while longer for the nice nurse…" She spoke in a way that made me feel like a toddler. It only drew me deeper into sleep.

I was placed on a spongy bed, but was so close to slumber, bits of my developing dreams weaved in with reality. "Honey, can you move your arm?"

Shaking my head weakly, I leaned sideways, grinning at the thought of rest. A soft hand caught me, however, sitting me upright.

"No sweetie…I now you're tired but I need you awake so I can ask some questions. Okay?"

"Okay." I wasn't even sure if I had said it or thought it. She placed something cold and wet on my shoulder that made the injury burn, so I drew back, my eyes still half closed.

"Its only water and disinfectant. It makes all the bad things go away so you don't get sick." Slowly, she rubbed it into my shoulder again, talking in a soothing voice. "How old are you? You're such a brave little Pichu for a young age."

"I'm thirteen."

"Pardon me?"

"Nothing... why do I need to stay awake? You could do this while I'm sleeping." I asked, not really listening, but saying my jumbled thoughts out loud.

"That's big girl nurse talk. You won't understand it unless you're like me. So, first question: did you see your friend get stung by a Weedle?" She paused, and stroked over a part in my wound, and I knew something was wrong.

"…You say you were carried away by a Spearow? A big birdie with big claws? And that you can't move your arm?" She had completely forgotten my awaited answer, which was no.

"Yep..."

"Have a transfusion ready." I heard her mutter to an unknown person behind her. With only a sympathetic sigh as warning, she dug a gloved hand into my wound, gripping the thing she had felt and ripped it out.

Blood poured out and seeped into the fur and bed, sending chills up my spine. Red-hot daggers stabbed at my eyes, leaving, thankfully, nothing but unconsciousness, the pain stale. Someone who sounded very young was screaming with a wail of pain, but I had already given myself up to sleep before I found out who it was. I hopd they weren't too worried about me.

ooOOoo

Earlier, when they had first arrived to the center, Joe and Jill saw one of the many bustling nurses taking Jade away. He started to object, when one of the other nurses steered them away to a waiting room with other wild pokémon awaiting shelter, forced to leave Marc behind.

"Tell me everything that happened." The Chansey demanded, seating them on a hard, wood chair.

"Not until you tell us where you took Jade." Jill replied angrily, snapping her eyes into small slits. "And is Marc going to be okay?"

"The Pichu is being questioned somewhere else while she gets treatment for her shoulder. And as for the Totodile, that all depends on what type of poison we're dealing with here. I need you to tell me the size of the Weedle, how big its horns were, and which one it used to inject the venom and where."

They blinked stupidly, overwhelmed by the string of questions. "Umm, it hit him in the chest, it was maybe six inches long, I'm not sure which stinger and, oh! I have the stingers right here." Joe said slowly. Carefully, he took them out, dropping them in the nurse's outstretched hand.

"Wouldn't you have noticed the great purple welt on his chest? You claim he was stung a long while before nightfall." She snapped, eyeing the horns before passing them on to one of the passing colleagues.

"Well, there was an injury already there. I noticed that it was getting bigger but I thought it was just the bruise. Besides, when he got stung I don't think any of us saw it. He was in tall grass." Jill said, feeling like her middle school teacher was scolding her unfairly.

Displeased with the answers, she led them to another room where they could clean their scratches and departed with an irritated air. From inside, they could hear the howling of hurt pokémon all chorused into one eerie moan in the other room beside them. When they listened close enough, they could hear the frantic commands of the doctors and nurses in the ER, the screeching of a pokémon not yet blessed with unconsciousness.

"This is the worse room you could be in." Came a silky voice from one corner. "You can hear the victims of our gym leader as if you were right there."

"What?" Joe asked looking over to what was a smaller, kind looking Chansey. Unlike the other nurses in the center, she didn't have stress tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Those pokémon you hear are because of Falkner. He doesn't care about what happens to them after the battle as long as his father's name stays strong with pride." She said sadly, placing a hand on the wall closest to her. "That's why our nurses are so angry all the time. Soon, when I become a full nurse, I'll be like them too."

"I'm sorry. Falkner's your gym leader isn't he?" Joe said, amazed that these once thought to be fictional characters were as true in this universe as any person in their own.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Jill asked.

"Oh but where are my manners? I'm Omri." Omri grinned, gazing at them both with grateful eyes. "And about the help, that would be possible only if you can talk some sense into that fool of a human. Which I'm sure you couldn't. Even if we could speak his tongue, I doubt he'd listen."

"Has he ever lost a match?" Joe asked her, sympathy for their city hovering in his gut.

"Not since his father died a few months ago, no. He was determined not to let him down at first, but that vow's turned into an ugly addiction to prove to everyone that he's the strongest trainer in this area. He keeps his gym open most of the night, only sleeping for a few hours a day if he's up for it." Omri explained to both of them, worry in her eyes. "He was a wonderful human before, but you can sense that he's changed for the worse."

"That can't be healthy." Jill added, biting her lower lip.

She shook her head in agreement. "Falkner's been withering lately… he's even known to skip a meal or two just for one more battle and has too much pride to see a doctor. He really needs one, too."

"A therapist is more like it." Joe said with dry humor. "You know, I bet if he lost just one battle, he wouldn't act like this."

"I wouldn't attempt it any time soon if you two are willing to try and beat him." She warned with a stern mother note.

"We have electricity on our side." Jill pointed out politely, their developing idea becoming a reality.

Omri looked visibly excited, only able to contain her joy withthe smallest thread of doubt. "I wish you all the best of luck. I beg you, the next time you come back to this building, it's to show me your badge."

"We will. I promise."

There was a quiet rap on the opened door, the same nurse who had questioned them earlier standing one foot inside the room. "We've stabilized your friend. He's going to be okay." She said, although I could tell from the look on her face she had yet to say that to anyone else. "You can see him if you want."

Without another word, they ran past both nurses to where she had pointed. Gently opening the door, the stench of sickness wafted up to meet them. All around them they could see resting pokémon in small beds, some crying and gripping a part of their body with agony. Among them was Marc and, to their surprise, Jade who was sleeping peacefully with a blood-ridden bandage pressed into her shoulder. Marc was awake, staring up at the ceiling and gripping the covers beside him as if his soul threatened to leave his body if he relented his vice grip. Numerous items that looked a lot like sharp disks were embedded deep into his wrists, neck, chest, and ankles, attached by wires that hooked up to a small machine behind his bed. The swelling on his chest had gone down plenty and his eyes no longer looked ready to hold a death glaze.

"Marc!" They both cried, leaping over to him and laughing with relief. He looked over to them weakly, his face still pale and snarling in pain. Frowning, Jill bent over one of the disks. "What are these for?"

"They say it purifies my blood." He croaked and then smiled. "But I think they're just trying to kill me. Even if I don't look it, they say I'll be able to get up normally in the morning when they take these things out."

"Marc, I'm so glad you're okay." Joe said softly, his voice choked. "Do you remember any of it?"

"Not really. I remember crawling into a bush, and a bird flew at me… then I was fully awake for a while." He grimaced, looking towards Jade's bed. "I saw her kill that old Spearow. And she was so scared when I came over and killed that other one for her. I wonder why... I don't think you two know why she's in here, do you?"

"Of course. She was picked up by a Spearow and need her shoulder fixed." Joe said confidently, now nervous.

Marc shook his head, his face grim. "One of the Spearow's talon broke off in her arm. They pulled it out, but she lost a lot of blood. She's going to be very tired tomorrow, they said. Worse off then I'll be."

"I had no idea…" Jill trailed off, obviously recollecting the memories of the fight. "I did hear something snap from deeper in the bush, but I thought it was some branches."

"Where were you all this time?" Marc said suddenly, changing the subject with his tone of voice. By the look on his face and the struggle in his words, it was clear he was fighting off a spasm of pain. "I woke up twenty minutes ago and half expected you two to come barreling in here."

"We're sorry Marc. They were questioning us about the Weedle that stung you." Jill's sentence was interrupted by an enraged snarl. "And one of the nurses told us something unsettling…"

"The gym leader here's gone nuts." Joe stated flatly, crossing his arms.

Marc grinned, eyeing his brother carefully. "No kidding? I really couldn't tell what with all the fighting and grass types screaming in my ears. So what if he's nuts? It isn't like we'll be here anytime soon."

"But what about the locals? Knowing them, they won't have the sense to stop until one of their pokémon gets really hurt."

He shrugged, shifting his position on the bed and closing his eyes. "It's not my problem. Tomorrow, we're leaving Violet City. Without the badge."