Lee.

After I regained consciousness, I was forced to stay in bed for over a week to regain my strength. Being in a coma for years at a time can do that to you.

By then, I had been transported to a different building in a different location. Given a room and an actual bed. Still hooked up to machines, but not under constant surviellence. At least twice a day, identical-looking young men and women came in to bring me my meals(which were rather tasteless and bland, but I never complained). It was comfortable enough for me; something in me told me that I had been in much worse situations before.

Some of them, known as grunts, were chatty. Told me that I still looked a lot like death warmed over, or that they were surprised the higher-ups had made such a big fuss over a "scrawny goth kid". They weren't exactly the most flattering remarks, but I didn't care.

Since the admins, they told me, were known by pseudonyms named after Roman gods, the grunts nicknamed me Pluto. I wasn't told or given a name otherwise, so I was stuck being called Pluto.

One of the nicer grunts eventually told me who Pluto was. The Roman god of the underworld, known in other mythology as Hades. I didn't even have the energy to feel offended.

What I did have energy for was thinking. I wanted to know who I was, or at least my own name. How I had been in that condition for so long, and what had done it. Why was everything kept such a secret from me, the person it mattered to the most?

Finally, after God knows how long, someone besides the same grunts as always entered my room. A hunched-over veteran scientist, with the lab coat and a clipboard with what I assumed was information on me.

"Good, you're awake," He announced. "I haven't seen you in quite a while. I hear the lower grunts took to calling you Pluto."

I recognized the voice as Charon, the scientist I had heard when I had first woken up. I nodded.

"Uhh...y-yes, sir," I answered. "I don't really have a choice, I guess, because I don't have anything else to ask them to call me." I wanted to ask about the clipboard, but didn't dare.

Charon chuckled softly, checking his papers. "Well...Pluto..." He began. "Based on some tests we've been running on you to determine your physical condition, it seems you're a rather healthy young man, despite your little catnap."

I raised my eyebrows. "S-seriously?" I had been in bed for days, it was a miracle I could even remember how to walk.

Charon nodded. "Except for your bad lungs, but it's assumed you were a heavy smoker." I did have a rather nasty cough sometimes, but I just decided not to pick up smoking again. "After a few more days to have you settle in, you'll be beginning Team Galactic's grunt training program."

This was unbelievable. How could I be ready for anything like that so quickly?

"Is...is that what you guys are called?" My voice trembled. "Team Galactic? Why do I have to join?"

"It's been decided by the admins that you would be a very beneficial member of our organization because of your...unique talents."

Unique...talents? I wondered. What could I possibly be good at? Heavy sleeping? Being a paperweight?

"You're going to be trained to be a proper member of Team Galactic, Pluto, and after a period of training, will be allowed graduate to participating in field missions with a pokemon assigned to you. You'll be transported to a training facility in just a few days, based on your rapid recovery, so be expecting that."

Without so much as a second breath or a goodbye, Charon left my room and shut the door behind him.

All of that had come so fast. I was going to be trained to be one of the nameless, faceless men wearing what looked like a space jumpsuit. I would go out in the world on "field missions", whatever that meant. I would be allowed back out into the world. Back after being out for so long. It was terrifying, but at the same time, maybe...

Maybe...maybe I'll meet Mark again... I drifted into a light sleep, wondering what kind of person could stay in my memories through severe enough head trauma to cause total amnesia.

Amber.

"Flint, you...you really think that he'd do that for me?"

Flint grinned his favorite dorky grin as he answered, "Yeah, I do! You know Buck! He's so much nicer than your dick of a brother!"

"Hey!" Max sauntered back from the kitchen, a soda in hand. Barry was on the phone with Dee in the kitchen, and I could hear him getting frustrated.

Volkner offered a courtesy glare. "What? You are. You're the biggest dick on the block, Maxie." He didn't even sound sarcastic.

Max glared back at him. I shook my head, laughing; seeing the two of them glare each other down was just too funny.

What I'd talked to Flint and Volkner about was Flint's little brother, Buck; Buck was Max's age, and good friends with him and Barry. Max hated having to look after Michelle, and I wouldn't trust Aaron to bake a cake, let alone make sure my baby sister is taking care of herself. I had to grasp at any straws I could. Call me overprotective, or even crazy, but I still saw her as that innocent little baby girl Momma had raised.

Max slunk back into the kitchen, pouting. Barry was still talking to his sister, and I could hear them arguing pretty heatedly. She was asking him to do her a favor, or something.

"Damn, you'd really think they're blood," Flint commented absently, sipping the soda in his hand.

"Huh? Who?"

"Who do you think? Barry and Dee. You'd think they crawled out of the same wo-"

He was cut off by a sharp knock to the door. Flint sighed, annoyed, at the interruption. I jumped up to get the door.

There were two boys, a bit older than Max, on the other side. One had short dirty blonde hair, warm gray eyes, and a notepad to write on; the other had dark hair and eyes, a smiling Pikachu on his shoulder, and looked a little disheveled.

"Excuse us, ma'am," The dark-haired boy sort of half-grumbled.

"My name is Kenta Landry, and this is Col Leech," The blonde introduced them both with a polite smile. "Is Aaron Wilkerson here? I'd like to speak with him.

Really? The second group in the past few hours asking for Aaron? How many people did he give our address away to?!

"I'm so sorry, you just missed him," I apologized. "I could call him if you really need it, he can't have gotten too far-"

"There's no need for any of that. I think my partner and I are more than capable of tracking him down." Kenta glanced at Col. "Isn't that right?"

"I'm not your partner." Compared to grinning Kenta, Col looked terrifying. I couldn't comprehend how they ended up working together.

I cleared my throat. "Um, track him down...?" I was definitely going to call Aaron after I closed the door. "Exactly who are yo-?"

"I'm a reporter for several reputable newspapers and magazines. Don't give me that look, I swear I am. My par-er, my companion, he's a trainer from another region who I thought would be more cooperative. So, Mr. Wilkerson's not here?"

Kenta got straight to the point. I shook my head. "Um, no. He left. He doesn't even live here."

Kenta nodded. "M'hm. Well, thank you anyway!" He closed the door himself, and I heard the two of them shuffle off the stoop.

My head was still reeling. Not only did Aaron invite more kids to my house, but it seemed like those two were on more of an important mission than Natalie and her friends.

A reporter and a scary-looking guy, neither of whom I'd ever met, were looking to speak with Aaron...who was likely looking after Michelle...

"Maaaaax! Barry!" I called for the boys without another moment's hesitation. "Get in here!"

AOF: Col Leech is one of my friends' characters, Lazy Quark, and 100% not mine.

AOF: Also, Lazy Quark is a hella cool dude.