Ok...for those of you who didn't notice it on the previous 13 chapters...I don't own Pokemon. Really I don't! I promise.
Continued...
Joyce sighed. The two days were up. Any minute now Giovanni would barge in, demanding that she turn over the Pikachu. Then it would start all over again. The one sided battles that the little pokemon would refuse to fight. Once again the pokemon would be brought to her suffering horribly of near mortal injuries to be healed only so it could be forced to go through it again and again. It was a horrible cycle that Joyce had no power to stop. The only thing she could do would be to try to make the recovery time as long as possible to give the Pikachu a chance to rest.
Joyce held a tiny hope though, that maybe Giovanni had forgotten the Pikachu. Out of sight out of mind and all that. The Boss hadnÕt come by since heÕd come in and demanded how long the pokemonÕs recovery would be. Since sheÕd liked and told him that it would be two days before the Pikachu would be able to battle. SheÕd expected him to come in at least once during that time to check on its progress. But he hadnÕt. In fact, Joyce hadnÕt seen the Boss much at all lately. He seemed to be involved with some sort of project that was taking up all his time. She was glad. Maybe whatever it is will keep him away from this poor Pikachu, she thought looking through the window into the insulated chamber that the Pokemon was in. She was worried about it. Not only because of her Boss, but because the electric mouse wouldnÕt eat.
SheÕd gotten the Pikachu to eat a little right after it had awakened, but nothing since then. The little yellow mouse just ignored any food she put out for it. Ignored her completely in fact, after that one time, when sheÕd gotten it to eat. It had talked to her...at her really. She didnÕt understand it. Only a pokemonÕs trainer could understand a pokemonÕs speech, and then only after having raised and cared for the creature a long time.
She had an idea though. An instinct that told her that the Pikachu was asking her to let it go. It was something she just couldnÕt do, no matter how pleadingly the poor creature looked at her or how its voice trembled as if on the edge of tears. Giovanni would kill her. So sheÕd turned away form the Pikachu and sealed the chamber. She closed her ears to the muffled sound of its cries and the pathetically desperate thuds of it slamming into the door to try to get it open. After a while it stopped and sheÕd gone back in to treat the bruises that it had inflicted upon itself. It hadnÕt looked at her then. Nor had it since, except to see if sheÕd closed the door after entering. She felt tempted to not. To let the Pikachu shock her and escape. But it would be futile. It would get caught and she would be removed from its care, if not killed for having been so careless. Then who would make sure the Pikachu had a rest between battles? Who would lie to Giovanni and say that it would be two days when only one was needed? So she closed and sealed the door every time, and the pokemon turned away and ignored her. Her and the food she brought. It would only sit and stare at the floor or out the observation window, tears leaking slowly from its eyes.
IÕve got to think of some way to get it to eat, she thought. ItÕll get sick before too much longer. I wonder why its so sad? I hate just watching it cry like this. Damn you Giovanni....you monster. How could you do this? ÒHow could you?Ó she repeated aloud softly.
Just t then, the phone rang shrilly, making her jump guiltily. Taking a breath to settle herself, she answered it. ÒHello?Ó
ÒJoyce, come up to the east wing. Room 631. A package has just arrived that I want you to take care of.Ó Giovanni ordered and then hung up.
Joyce sat for a second staring at the now dead phone in her hands before hanging it up with a sigh. Still worried about the Pikachu, she rose tiredly from her desk and, after casting one last look at the little pokemon, she headed toward the elevators. Room 631 was one of several unused science labs. The Boss had a great many science labs. Every now and then he would have his team of scientists start some new strange experiment on pokemon. Joyce shuddered slightly at the thought.
When she arrived, Giovanni was waiting for her. The room looked like some sort of medical facility. Joyce wondered if this strange alteration was what the Boss had been spending all his time on lately. ÒAh Joyce, perfect timing.Ó the Boss said, as if he hadnÕt just called her up. Just when she was about to ask him what it was heÕd called her about, the Boss smiled and said, ÒAnd here comes our package now.Ó
Joyce turned and watched in horror-struck amazement as two of the most viciously beaten boys sheÕd ever seen were shoved into the room by Butch and Cassidy. One of the boys she recognized as James, a member of Team Rocket. He was supporting the younger boy, who looked like he might collapse at any moment. Joyce didnÕt recognize him. With a small cry she moved toward the injured boys, but Giovanni grabbed her shoulder, stopping her.
ÒNo, not them.Ó he sneered. ÒHim.Ó Joyce looked past the boys where the Boss was pointing and gasped. Several members of Team Rocket were wheeling in a gurney carrying a third, even younger boy. He was unconscious and was hooked up to several machines, all of which were being wheeled in behind him. His head was wrapped in a bandage and his ribs were tightly. When the men carefully moved him from the gurney to the bed, she saw that almost his entire right thigh was bandaged heavily as well. Something awful had obviously happened to the child and Joyce couldnÕt for the life of her imagine why he was here and not in a hospital.
ÒSir...I donÕt understand...whatÕs going on....why...?Ó
ÒWhatÕs going on is that monster sent these goons to attack us and kidnap my friend from the hospital.Ó The injured boy James was supporting interrupted. Before Joyce could reply, or the boy could say anything else, Butch cuffed him sharply on the back of his head. The force of the blow knocked the boy from JamesÕs grasp and he collapsed on the ground like a rag doll.
ÒNo!Ó ÒLeave him alone!Ó Joyce and James both cried at the same time as Butch moved to kick the fallen boy.
ÒENOUGH!Ó Giovanni roared. ÒYou two, take them to a cell,Ó he told Butch and Cassidy. ÒAnd you,Ó he pointed at Joyce,ÓI want you to take care of this boy as if your very life depended on it.....because Joyce, it does. Make no mistake about that.Ó
Joyce watched numbly as Cassidy dragged the crumpled boy off the floor and Butch shoved James out the door. When they were gone, she turned to Giovanni. ÒSir...why me? If the boy is so important...why not one of your medical staff? IÕm not very well trained for human care...Ó
ÒJoyce, look at him. Those machines should keep him alive for years. At least they had better.Ó he threatened, glaring at her...but then his gaze softened. ÒIf a real emergency occurs, you may call upon one of the physicians to assist. Right now the boy needs nursing. And you, my dear, are a nurse. Now, make sure those buffoons have set everything up correctly. I want to go see my Pikachu.Ó
Joyce turned quickly to the task to hide the disappointment she knew must be showing in her eyes. He hadnÕt forgotten it after all.
Once Joyce assured Giovanni that the boy was stable, she followed him back to her pokemon med-lab. She watched as he gathered the Pikachu into its ball. It didnÕt even try to avoid the beam. Nor did it attempt to struggle out. It was like it had given up. Giovanni noticed this and frowned.
ÒCome along Joyce.Ó he said as he headed toward the elevators. Joyce followed him silently, still wondering what possible reason Giovanni could have for kidnapping that boy. Why heÕd had James and that other boy beaten so badly. Why he was so obsessed with this Pikachu.
As sheÕd expected they arrived at the same modified arena that sheÕd seen Pikachu in before. Only now there was a further adaption. A rather large view screen had been mounted on one of the walls inside the arena. Before sheÕd much of a chance to wonder what it was for, the Boss pressed a button and the screen sprung to life. The image displayed was that of the little boy she had just seen, lying on his bed...hooked up to his machines. As still and pathetic as death. Then, Giovanni released the Pikachu into the arena.
At first the Pikachu just sat there, like it had in the recovery room. It hadnÕt noticed the screen yet. But then, it glanced up and saw. Saw the image of the boy. ÒPikapi!Ó it cried in shocked anguish. Joyce looked at the screen and the Pikachu and suddenly it made sense. Not all of it...but enough that she was beginning to understand. That boy...the pokemon had called him ÔPikapiÕ...was obviously the PikachuÕs trainer. Something had happened t him, whether when the Boss had stolen the Pikachu or before. The reason the Pikachu had been so sad and so desperate to escape was that it was worried about its trainer. Its Pikapi.
Joyce was interrupted form her thoughts by the Boss. ÒThatÕs right you little rat. I have the boy. Do you see those tubes and machines?Ó Giovanni toggled a switch that made the image close in on the respirators. ÒTheyÕre all that stands between that brat and a a slow death by suffocation. Them...and you Pikachu. You see, you hold the plug in your...paws. Do you understand? If you disobey one more order...if you lose one more battle...if you fail to deliver perfection just once. I will happily turn those machines off. Now, do you understand?Ó