Nurse Joy absolutely could not believe it. That boy from Team Rocket—what was his name? John, Jason . . . James, that was it—had just suddenly staggered into the Pokemon hospital and fainted.
Wait a minute . . . hadn't she heard that James had been killed in an explosion? How could this be him? According to the firefighter she'd seen being interviewed, there was no way he could've escaped the inferno.
Well, she'd worry about that later. Right now she'd better see if he was badly hurt.
"What's going on here?" One of the doctors came out of his office, having heard a loud crash.
"Somebody came in and promptly passed out, Doctor," Nurse Joy replied. She was kneeling down on the floor next to the boy checking for a pulse.
"Isn't he from Team Rocket?" the doctor asked, his eyes narrowing. "I'd recognize that bluish-lavender hair anywhere!"
"I don't really think that's important right now, Doctor," Nurse Joy said, feeling a bit angry. "He's hurt."
The doctor sighed. "You're right, of course, Nurse Joy."
****
When he opened his eyes, he found himself laying on a bed in what looked like a hospital room. For a minute he couldn't place where he was, but then he remembered the Pokemon hospital. Looking around, he spotted the red-haired nurse, who smiled at him.
"You're awake, I see," she said.
"What happened?" he asked.
"You came in and fainted on the floor," she told him. "Whatever you've been through, I think you're very lucky to be alive. You have multiple cuts and bruises, including that nasty wound on your arm and a bump on your head. It's a wonder you don't have a concussion!"
"I don't remember what happened to me," he sighed.
She looked at him curiously. "When you came in, you also said you didn't know who you are. Is that true?"
He nodded, looking lost.
"Does the name 'Team Rocket' mean anything to you?" she asked.
"Nothing at all," he replied. "Why?"
The nurse looked around furtively, then came closer. "I think your name is James and that you work with them," she said.
"That could very well be. I wouldn't know, at least not anymore," he sighed.
"Well, I'll call you James," she smiled. "You know, it's been quite a while since I've had a patient that wasn't a Pokemon."
"That's another thing—what's a Pokemon?"
The nurse blinked in surprise. "Oh my. You really do have a bad case of amnesia."
The boy sighed. "Well, never mind the Pokemon for now." He paused. "Since you seem to know about me, do I know someone named Jessie?"
"Yes, I believe you do," the nurse replied. "But I have no idea where she is right now." She gave him a concerned look. "You know, the doctor found some strange marks on your neck, as if someone tried to strangle you."
He turned pale. "Someone tried to strangle me?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Well, this is just peachy," he muttered sarcastically. "Not only can I not remember who I am, but now I'm informed that someone wants me dead. If they find out I'm alive, they'll probably try again!"
"Oh, I don't know about that," the nurse said. "If you don't know who you are, it will be pretty hard for them to find out you're still alive."
"I'm certain whoever it is has their ways," the boy replied nervously.
****
He couldn't have been more right.
"Sir?"
A dark shadow turned toward the agent. "Yes?"
"You're not going to like this, sir," the agent said apologetically. "Agent Kidd spotted a young man resembling James entering a Pokemon hospital."
"A what?! Hmmm, now why would he do that? Do you suppose he thinks *he's* a Pokemon?" The man chuckled at his own joke.
"Sir, you don't seem surprised that he's still among the living," the agent observed in surprise.
"Perhaps that's because I already knew," the silhouetted man said with a grim smile. "I have my ways. Apparently young James is more of a fighter than I give him credit for. Now, then, do you know what Pokemon hospital he's at?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, then, perhaps you should do something about it. Dismissed."
"Yes, sir!" The agent turned and left.
His boss smirked nastily. "I don't know how you managed that one, James, but you can be certain I won't let it happen again," he muttered.
****
The boy looked out the window curiously. He had decided to call himself James since that nurse seemed certain he was that person. He jerked in surprise upon seeing a bunch of strange people converging near the window. Sensing danger, he ducked down before they could see him.
"He's in there, I know he is," he heard the apparent leader say. "Now you all know what he looks like . . ."
"Uh, I don't," someone spoke up sheepishly.
"Idiot. He has bluish-lavender hair, green eyes, and a British accent. Now go find him and eliminate him!"
James gasped. They were after him! He had to get out of there, and fast. Maybe he could sneak out in some kind of disguise. He was good at disguises. Wait . . . how did he know that? Oh, never mind that now; he needed to concentrate on staying alive, then ponder on his past.
Quickly he dove out of the room and down the hall to a door marked Staff Only. Several minutes later he emerged in a nurse's uniform, his hair hidden under the cap and colored contacts tinting his eyes brown. Looking around furtively, he grabbed a laundry cart and started wheeling it down the hall.
"Excuse me, ma'am."
James froze. "Yes?" he said in a high-pitched, nasal voice.
"Have you seen some idiot with blue hair running around the hospital? He might have been carrying a rose and calling himself James."
"No, I haven't seen anyone like that," James replied.
"Sorry to bother you, ma'am." The man walked on down the hall and James breathed a sigh of relief. He rounded a corner and suddenly bumped into a tough-looking guy with turquoise hair. "Oh, hello," James greeted, still using the high-pitched voice. "Pardon me, I wasn't watching where I was going . . ."
Unfortunately for James, this guy didn't fool as easily as the other one. "James," he sneered, "so we meet again." He grabbed James by the front of his uniform threateningly.
"Uh . . . we're met before?" James was totally confused.
"Don't try any funny stuff," the tough guy snapped. "Now you're just going to come with me."
"Oh really? I wasn't aware of that. I do believe I'll pass."
"You don't have a choice!" He looked about ready to punch James out.
James had to think fast. "Look over there!" he tried pointing at the wall behind them.
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not falling for that," his captor growled.
While he may not have, he was momentarily startled, giving James just the opening he needed to give him a swift kick on the knee, causing him to release his grip, shrieking in pain. Panic-stricken, James shoved the laundry cart at him and bolted down the hall.
"After him! He's getting away!" the tough guy yelled angrily, pushing the laundry cart away.
James looked around for a door, and finding none, he broke a nearby window and jumped through. The agents rushed over and looked out. There was no sign of him anywhere.
"Looks like he's flown the coop again, Butchie," a honey-blonde said to the turquoise-haired guy.
"How can someone so moronic keep eluding us?" Butch fumed.
"Do we really have to report this to the boss?" another agent moaned.
"He won't like it, that's for sure," a fourth spoke up.
"Come on," Butch growled, not bothering to answer the question. "Let's get out of here before they sic the cops on us."
****
James, hanging precariously from the ledge below the window, listened to the conversation wide-eyed. He had to get far away from here, and fast. He wondered what on earth he'd done to make their boss so angry at him.
Wait a minute . . . hadn't she heard that James had been killed in an explosion? How could this be him? According to the firefighter she'd seen being interviewed, there was no way he could've escaped the inferno.
Well, she'd worry about that later. Right now she'd better see if he was badly hurt.
"What's going on here?" One of the doctors came out of his office, having heard a loud crash.
"Somebody came in and promptly passed out, Doctor," Nurse Joy replied. She was kneeling down on the floor next to the boy checking for a pulse.
"Isn't he from Team Rocket?" the doctor asked, his eyes narrowing. "I'd recognize that bluish-lavender hair anywhere!"
"I don't really think that's important right now, Doctor," Nurse Joy said, feeling a bit angry. "He's hurt."
The doctor sighed. "You're right, of course, Nurse Joy."
****
When he opened his eyes, he found himself laying on a bed in what looked like a hospital room. For a minute he couldn't place where he was, but then he remembered the Pokemon hospital. Looking around, he spotted the red-haired nurse, who smiled at him.
"You're awake, I see," she said.
"What happened?" he asked.
"You came in and fainted on the floor," she told him. "Whatever you've been through, I think you're very lucky to be alive. You have multiple cuts and bruises, including that nasty wound on your arm and a bump on your head. It's a wonder you don't have a concussion!"
"I don't remember what happened to me," he sighed.
She looked at him curiously. "When you came in, you also said you didn't know who you are. Is that true?"
He nodded, looking lost.
"Does the name 'Team Rocket' mean anything to you?" she asked.
"Nothing at all," he replied. "Why?"
The nurse looked around furtively, then came closer. "I think your name is James and that you work with them," she said.
"That could very well be. I wouldn't know, at least not anymore," he sighed.
"Well, I'll call you James," she smiled. "You know, it's been quite a while since I've had a patient that wasn't a Pokemon."
"That's another thing—what's a Pokemon?"
The nurse blinked in surprise. "Oh my. You really do have a bad case of amnesia."
The boy sighed. "Well, never mind the Pokemon for now." He paused. "Since you seem to know about me, do I know someone named Jessie?"
"Yes, I believe you do," the nurse replied. "But I have no idea where she is right now." She gave him a concerned look. "You know, the doctor found some strange marks on your neck, as if someone tried to strangle you."
He turned pale. "Someone tried to strangle me?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Well, this is just peachy," he muttered sarcastically. "Not only can I not remember who I am, but now I'm informed that someone wants me dead. If they find out I'm alive, they'll probably try again!"
"Oh, I don't know about that," the nurse said. "If you don't know who you are, it will be pretty hard for them to find out you're still alive."
"I'm certain whoever it is has their ways," the boy replied nervously.
****
He couldn't have been more right.
"Sir?"
A dark shadow turned toward the agent. "Yes?"
"You're not going to like this, sir," the agent said apologetically. "Agent Kidd spotted a young man resembling James entering a Pokemon hospital."
"A what?! Hmmm, now why would he do that? Do you suppose he thinks *he's* a Pokemon?" The man chuckled at his own joke.
"Sir, you don't seem surprised that he's still among the living," the agent observed in surprise.
"Perhaps that's because I already knew," the silhouetted man said with a grim smile. "I have my ways. Apparently young James is more of a fighter than I give him credit for. Now, then, do you know what Pokemon hospital he's at?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, then, perhaps you should do something about it. Dismissed."
"Yes, sir!" The agent turned and left.
His boss smirked nastily. "I don't know how you managed that one, James, but you can be certain I won't let it happen again," he muttered.
****
The boy looked out the window curiously. He had decided to call himself James since that nurse seemed certain he was that person. He jerked in surprise upon seeing a bunch of strange people converging near the window. Sensing danger, he ducked down before they could see him.
"He's in there, I know he is," he heard the apparent leader say. "Now you all know what he looks like . . ."
"Uh, I don't," someone spoke up sheepishly.
"Idiot. He has bluish-lavender hair, green eyes, and a British accent. Now go find him and eliminate him!"
James gasped. They were after him! He had to get out of there, and fast. Maybe he could sneak out in some kind of disguise. He was good at disguises. Wait . . . how did he know that? Oh, never mind that now; he needed to concentrate on staying alive, then ponder on his past.
Quickly he dove out of the room and down the hall to a door marked Staff Only. Several minutes later he emerged in a nurse's uniform, his hair hidden under the cap and colored contacts tinting his eyes brown. Looking around furtively, he grabbed a laundry cart and started wheeling it down the hall.
"Excuse me, ma'am."
James froze. "Yes?" he said in a high-pitched, nasal voice.
"Have you seen some idiot with blue hair running around the hospital? He might have been carrying a rose and calling himself James."
"No, I haven't seen anyone like that," James replied.
"Sorry to bother you, ma'am." The man walked on down the hall and James breathed a sigh of relief. He rounded a corner and suddenly bumped into a tough-looking guy with turquoise hair. "Oh, hello," James greeted, still using the high-pitched voice. "Pardon me, I wasn't watching where I was going . . ."
Unfortunately for James, this guy didn't fool as easily as the other one. "James," he sneered, "so we meet again." He grabbed James by the front of his uniform threateningly.
"Uh . . . we're met before?" James was totally confused.
"Don't try any funny stuff," the tough guy snapped. "Now you're just going to come with me."
"Oh really? I wasn't aware of that. I do believe I'll pass."
"You don't have a choice!" He looked about ready to punch James out.
James had to think fast. "Look over there!" he tried pointing at the wall behind them.
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not falling for that," his captor growled.
While he may not have, he was momentarily startled, giving James just the opening he needed to give him a swift kick on the knee, causing him to release his grip, shrieking in pain. Panic-stricken, James shoved the laundry cart at him and bolted down the hall.
"After him! He's getting away!" the tough guy yelled angrily, pushing the laundry cart away.
James looked around for a door, and finding none, he broke a nearby window and jumped through. The agents rushed over and looked out. There was no sign of him anywhere.
"Looks like he's flown the coop again, Butchie," a honey-blonde said to the turquoise-haired guy.
"How can someone so moronic keep eluding us?" Butch fumed.
"Do we really have to report this to the boss?" another agent moaned.
"He won't like it, that's for sure," a fourth spoke up.
"Come on," Butch growled, not bothering to answer the question. "Let's get out of here before they sic the cops on us."
****
James, hanging precariously from the ledge below the window, listened to the conversation wide-eyed. He had to get far away from here, and fast. He wondered what on earth he'd done to make their boss so angry at him.