Chapter Ten

I hurried to the room with all the files, tears streaming down my face the whole while. It was hard to leave my Pokémon when they were so real, so tangible. Their existence was no longer a mystery, and now that I knew that they were all okay, I didn't want to leave them. Even knowing that all they could do was feel and sense me, I wanted to bring them with me, free them from their prison.

I would give them to Morty if I had to, just so I could be with them. He wouldn't have to take care of them now that I could theoretically become solid at will. I just wanted to make sure they got to a decent place; I never wanted them to be locked away like stray dogs. This was unfair for them, and they needed to leave.

But now, I needed to focus on getting those files. I could figure out a plan to free my Pokémon afterwards, when my attention could be completely on them. Unlocking the doors to the room with the files, I walked in, making sure that no one noticed the door open and close on its own. Then, figuring it was better to work with the lights off, I flipped through the keys, looking for one to fit the file cabinets.

Even with the lights off, it didn't take long to find the right key. It was the only one small enough to fit into the file cabinet locks, and, within seconds, I had the drawer opened. Glancing around to make sure that no one could see what I was doing—and finding myself perfectly alone—I began looking through the files until I came across my name.

I pulled the file out, feeling the weight of it. Though I was curious to look through it now, I knew that now was not the time, and I set it down on top of the file cabinet as I locked back up. Then, grabbing my file, I hurried out of the room.

This was the tricky part. I needed to somehow make it back to Morty—meaning through the hallway and through the main lobby—without anyone seeing me. Well, more specifically, seeing a file floating through the air since they couldn't see me, anyway.

Getting through the hallway was no problem, and luckily, Morty had left the door open enough for me to squeeze through without drawing attention to a door opening by itself. So, sidling my way past the door, careful not to bump it, I waved a hand at Morty to draw his attention, signaling that I needed him to really distract the officer.

This was my first mistake; as soon as Morty looked over at me, the officer did, too. He blinked a few times, clearly confused by the floating folder, but by the time I realized that he had seen the file, it was too late. He jumped up from the desk, trying to get over to me as fast as possible. I just sprinted for the door, scared to death of getting caught, the door seemingly flying open without anyone touching it.

"What the hell? Did you just see that, man?" the officer asked, running outside after me. I had hurried off to the side, completely disappearing from view, so the officer had stopped following. "The… file… that thing was floating. What the hell just happened?"

"I didn't see anything," Morty said in a pleasant voice. "It's been a long day, sir, and I have taken up too much of your time. You must be overwhelmed! I will contact you again in a week if I still cannot find my Raticate, as agreed. Thank you so much for all of your help. I suggest you get a good night's rest tonight."

"Uh… yeah…" The officer sounded so hesitant and so confused. I smiled, laughing quietly to myself. Seconds later, the file fell out of my hands and onto the ground. But Morty was there to pick it up before I could even blink. He swooped down, picking it up and examining the outside like it was something surreal.

"You got it," he said in a surprised tone.

I knew I should have been insulted by his lack of faith in me, but all I could do now was smile, despite my earlier feeling of loss with my Pokémon. But I did get the file. And the fact that Morty so clearly thought this should have gone all wrong amused me. I took the file from his hands, solid once more. "Did you doubt me?"

"Not for a minute."

Then, just like he had swooped down to pick up my file, he swooped down and kissed me. Before I knew it, the file was back on the ground, completely tossed aside, and it was just the two of us. His hands cupping my cheeks; his lips moist on mine, tasting so sweet. My hands finding their way to his hair, fingers laced with his short blonde strands; my utter shock and happiness draining me of any other control.

Because he was the one who kissed me. It wasn't a mistake—he wasn't backing away from me, trying to escape. He was the one who kissed me.

Oh no. He was the one who kissed me.

"Morty!" I tried to say, throwing a syllable out whenever I could. I pushed on his chest, pulling myself away, and even though he gave our lips a break, his hands still cradled my face. His solid, living hands on my ghostly dead cheeks.

Suddenly, this seemed so wrong.

"Morty—"

"When you kissed me before, that wasn't a mistake. You wanted to kiss me, didn't you?" he asked, and all I could do was nod. Because I had wanted to kiss him, hadn't I? "I acted all… nonchalant about it. Like I didn't care. But I do care, Lyra. I'm… I'm in love with you. And I know it's crazy, and I know it's probably wrong, and I know that sometimes you're a pain in the butt and you do things that drive me crazy, but—"

I'm in love with you.

"Morty," I interrupted, pulling his hands off of my face, just holding them in my own hands. How could I go from so happy, so wonderfully happy, to so completely miserable? Especially after such a kind and beautiful man expressed his love for me. "This was never supposed to happen. I'm dead. You're alive. You're not supposed to be in love with a dead girl. You're supposed to be in love with someone you can actually be with."

"I can be with you!" he argued, looking at me with pitiful sad eyes. "I can be with you whenever you're solid, and now that you can control that, you can be solid all the time. It'll be just like you're alive. It practically is, anyway. You look alive to me."

"And I don't to everyone else!" I exclaimed, trying to drive that point into his head. I didn't know how to make it clearer that I was only a physical entity to him, when he so obviously already knew that. Hadn't he been the expert on death all along? The man telling me what I needed to do, where I needed to go. "To everyone else, I don't even exist. You can hold my hand and… and kiss me all you want, but it will look very strange to everyone else."

Morty wasn't liking my argument, and I felt so horrible for bringing it up. "What if I could find a way to bring you back? What if I could get you to become like the Ghost Pokémon? What if I could make it so your soul becomes a stable form on the Plane of the Living? What if I—"

"What if, what if, what if!" I stomped my foot, pushing Morty away. "You already told me once that you couldn't bring me back. That my return is completely impossible. So, I'm sorry, but you and I are both going to have to accept that I will have to move on to the Plane of the Dead." I paused, taking a deep breath. "You can't love me, Morty. You just… can't. I don't want to hurt you when I go."

"I said you had to, but maybe you can stay. Maybe…"

He trailed off, shaking his head. I searched his eyes, knowing that I had hurt him, but I had ripped my own heart out and stomped on it, too. Morty really was the most important person to me right now, and I probably cared about him as much as he did about me. But this was so horribly wrong, and I didn't want to hurt him. I never wanted that.

"Just forget it, Morty. You can keep wishing and wishing. I have. But, like every time I've wished and prayed, nothing is going to happen. I'm never coming back. I'm never going to be yours, even if you love me. Because I can't go out on a date with you. I can't hold hands with you in public. You can't introduce me to anyone. We can't get married. We can't have kids. We can't grow old together. I would have to just sit there and watch."

He took a step away from me, stepping on the file on the ground but dismissing that he had done so. I could almost see the light bulb go off in his head, and he looked at me with such expectancy that I was a bit worried about whatever he was about to say.

And for good reason.

"What if I died for you? What if I became a ghost? If I had something to fulfill with my death, maybe I could stay behind and—"

"Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa. You are not going to freaking kill yourself for me. That is so wrong on so many levels, and if you do that, I may have to have you exorcised." I narrowed my eyes at him, furious that he even suggested that. "First of all, even if you die without having your meaning fulfilled and you do come back as a ghost, being with me would be what you're waiting for. You'd automatically just move on. Then what, I'd be all alone? I don't think so. Second, if you didn't come back as a ghost, anyway, you just died for nothing. Third, you have a life to live. So, go live it or I will just walk away right now."

"You'd walk away? You would just pick up that file and walk away now? And you would just find what you've been looking for and move on?" he asked, sounding surprised and dejected. I didn't want to hurt him, but if my options were to hurt him now and allow him to live life like he was meant to or hurt him later and take away all his life's prospective now, I would choose the former.

I took a deep breath, reaching down and picking up the file.

"Yes."

I began to walk away when he grabbed my wrist, pulling me back towards him, keeping one hand on my wrist and wrapping the other around my waist. I wanted to struggle, I wanted to pull away, and when he leaned down and kissed me again, I wanted to run. Because Morty needed someone living, not someone dead.

"You can just walk away… just like that. How can you do that? I can see it in your eyes... you feel the same way about me. So, how can you just leave?" he wondered, separating only enough to be able to look at me. "I want to hear you tell me that you don't care. If you can say it, then… fine. I'll let you alone. And if you can't say it, I'm going to find a way for us to be together. You got that, lightning girl?"

I tried to keep my face as straight as possible. But the fact that I was still holding onto that file was a dead giveaway that I did care. Because the only way I could be solid was if I felt passionately about something. And right now, that something was Morty.

So, I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself as quickly as possible. And as the file slid out of my hand and Morty's hand went right through my wrist and my back, I took a step back and looked Morty straight in the eye.

"I care about your safety and your well-being. I care about your career. I care that you have been very kind to me. And I also care that you care about me. That means a lot to me. But I don't care about you in the way that you care about me."

Bam. A stake in the heart, just like that. I winced, seeing the look, and I had to turn around and close my eyes, knowing that the tears were coming.

How could this have happened to me? Why did I always have to be the one to hurt people? Why did I have to die? How could this whole situation flip around, leaving all of the responsibilities of a relationship that I couldn't have on me? Why did I have to be the one to say no? Why couldn't I have said yes?

"Wait… I'll let you walk away if you want to go. And I promise I'll drop the subject for the rest of time. But you don't have to leave. We can solve your murder together."

He was begging, I was crying. What a sad couple we were.

"This changes things, you know. Things won't be normal, Morty," I said, and he nodded, understanding that things would be different from now on. We would both have to be in control of our feelings all the time, focusing more on that than on each other. Things had to change. There was no other option.

He picked up the file, opening to the first page.

"I know. Too little, too late, I suppose."

Author's Note: I enjoyed this chapter. Is that wrong of me? I mean… when you think about it, it's kind of like… the forbidden word that I won't say because it's too dang creepy that starts with a 'n' and ends with 'ecrophilia'. On a completely different level. But still.

Nah, it really is different. It's not as creepy. Has anyone ever read "A Rose for Emily"? It's a short story—very creepy. But it's a really good short story. You should all read it.

Well, this conversation was awkward. Bye, everyone. =P

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon.