Disclaimer: Pokémon, Tracey Sketchit, and related characters are © Nintendo..... I think? So please don't sue me.
Author's Notes: Poké-Talk between Tracey and whatever Pokémon are translated in italics for the convenience of the reader. Yes, I know we don't know exactly where Butch comes from (or his last name), but I'm just saying so in my story, 'kay?
A Realization Of Powers
*About 11 years ago*
As a summer day draws to a close, a seven-year-old Tracey Sketchit watches the sunset from his bedroom window, in a house that's just right on the beach. His aunt's Espeon, Minerva, comes in and joins him.
"Beautiful, isn't it, Minerva?" he asked, scratching her behind the ears.
"Sunsets always are," Minerva answered her own talk.
"Were you gonna tell me something?"
"Yeah, your aunt wants you down for dinner already."
"OK, let's go!"
The two ran out the door and bounded down the stairs.
How was I able to understand Minerva?
*About 9 years ago*
Tracey, now nine years old, plays dodge ball with his friends Sally and Miles in the playground of Westside Island Elementary.
"Haha! I'll get you this time, Trace!" Sally cackled.
BOING!
"Hah! Missed me!" Tracey teased.
"Catch the ball, Miles!"
"I got it…I got it…"
The ball rolled between Miles' feet.
"...I don't got it."
"I'll get it!" Tracey yelled, running after it. He followed it all the way to Butch Kosaburo, the fifth grade bully.
"Lookin' for this?" Butch taunted, snatching the red rubber ball from Tracey's grasp.
"Give it back, Botch," he growled through gritted teeth. Butch just raised the ball higher.
"Wrong, twerp. How dare you call me by that name."
"I said give it!"
Tracey jumped up and grabbed the ball with both hands. Butch did the same and they had a tug-of-war with the ball—until he let go to punch Tracey in the nose. Tracey dropped the ball, staggered backwards, and fell on his butt with a hand cupped to his now bloody nose.
Butch picked the ball back up again and pointed and laughed at Tracey who glared at him, rage building up inside. His eyes began to glow.
"Hahahahhahahah! What a dork! Hahahahahaha-- huh?"
Butch felt like something grabbed his arms and legs. That something also pried his fingers one by one off the ball.
"What the heck is going on?!"
The ball dropped and rolled back to Tracey. Then suddenly, Butch was turned upside-down and flung across the playground into the chain-link fence! With a hand still cupped to his nose, Tracey took the ball back with the other and stared at Butch, wide-eyed and astounded at what just happened.
Did I really do that to Butch?
*About 3 years ago*
It was a cold night on a lush, but deserted island. A 15-year-old Tracey sat up in his sleep and started..... sleep-sketching.
"Whoa…there's Articuno...and Zapdos...and Moltres..." he mumbled. Ash, Misty, and Pikachu didn't notice because they too were asleep.
Days later, the group got into a predicament involving Articuno, Zapdos, and Moltres.
How was I able to foresee that encounter?
*Estimated date: March 24, 2002*
Those were the thoughts that lingered in Tracey's mind as he blankly stared from afar at Professor Oak doing his daily examinations on the Pokémon he kept for Pallet Town's trainers.
Tracey? Marill asked, staring up at Tracey and blinking.
"Huh? Oh, I guess you're wondering what's bugging me," Tracey responded."
"Yeah, I am."
"It's these strange things that have happened to me in the past. Very strange. I can't figure out how they happened, let alone why. But I think I'm starting to get an idea or two, Marill."
"Does it bother you too much?"
"Of course I don't let it bother me too much. It would get in the way of my wo—hey, wait a second! How is it earthly possible that I'm having a conversation with you?"
Tracey stood up and rubbed his head. He was having a headache--- no, not quite a headache, it was just a throbbing and surging sensation in his head. He's been getting these moments for as long as he could remember.
"Something wrong?"
"No, I'm perfectly fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure! Don't worry, buddy, it's nothing!"
Professor Oak was done with his examinations now and was approaching Tracey.
"All right, Tracey, that's a wrap. Just run these records through the data scanner and we'll call it a day," he said, handing Tracey his clipboard, who took it to the database room—the place in the lab where most of the computers are. He dropped the papers into a slot where they were read by lasers and saved into the hard drive. He stretched and yawned as he waited for the scanner to fully record the papers. Upon hearing a confirmation beep, he shut down all the computers in the room and picked up his backpack.
Marril followed him as he hung up his lab coat. Then they went out as Professor Oak locked up.
"Have a good evening, Tracey."
"You too, Professor."
Tracey headed back to Ash's house. As they entered, Mr. Mime was bustling around the living room, dusting and cleaning here and there.
"Mrs. Ketchum has dinner ready! She's waiting for you!" Mr. Mime informed, pointing to the dining room.
"All right. I'll just put my stuff away fi—"
Tracey stopped in the middle of his sentence, glancing into blank space and rubbing his chin in thought.
"What is it?"
"Uh, never mind. Marril, you can join the others in the backyard."
"All right!"
As Marril darted out the back door, Tracey put his backpack in Ash's room (which he borrowed while Ash was gone). Then she joined Mrs. Ketchum in the dining room.
"Oh! Tracey, I was just about to call you. Come, sit and eat," she smiled.
*During the meal*
"So, Tracey, how was work today?"
"Fine as usual. A pair of Nidoran evolved today and we just hatched a Pidgey we specially bred to have Faint Attack."
"I see. That all sounds interesting."
"How was your day, Mrs. Ketchum?"
"Excellent! The garden vegetables are growing nicely. Scizor and Venomoth have been a great help."
"Gee, thanks."
"Oh, no, I should be thanking you! After all, they're your Pokémon."
By now, dinner was all done. Tracey did the dishes while Mrs. Ketchum went to do her final tending on the garden.
He was scrubbing a plate, when it suddenly slipped out of his grip. Before it hit the floor, he shot out a hand over it, as if by reflex. The plate stopped in its place inches above the floor. Tracey gasped and stared at what seemed to be happening to it. Slowly, he raised his hand, and the plate rose into it, as if by magnetism. Holding the plate in both hands now, he stared at it, gaping. After a few seconds, he shook his head.
"Th-that did not just happen," he muttered to himself, continuing to wash the dishes.
*Later that night*
Tracey saw a man and a woman creep toward the lab. He looked down at his watch. It was exactly midnight. He followed the pair.
The guy was using a crowbar to pry open the window. When he flung it open, the alarm began to blare. The woman leaped in quickly and stuck a device on the main control that input the correct code. As both of them entered, Tracey climbed quietly through the window. He followed them down to the Pokémon Storage Room, where the trainers' extra Pokémon were stored in their PokéBalls. The guy got out a sack while the girl turned on a flashlight and shone it on the sack. The light also revealed a red "R" embroidered on the guy's shirt. The two started filling the sack with PokéBalls.
Tracey woke up, breathing heavily. He looked at the time on his backlighted watch. 11:45 P.M. He got out of bed and tiptoed to the phone, being careful not to make any noise that would awaken Mrs. Ketchum. He picked up the receiver and dialed 911. One of the Jennies appeared on the videoscreen.
"This is the Pallet Town Police Department, how may I help you?"
"I would like to report a Pokémon robbery at Professor Oak's laboratory--"
"But the alarm hasn't been activated."
"Well...see...um, I don't know how to explain this to you, but it hasn't happened yet. It's going to happen at midnight."
"Listen, mister. It's mighty suspicious of someone to call this late at night, reporting a crime that has not even happened yet. I'd say this falls along the lines of a prank call, which is a waste of my time! Be it a hunch or some sick joke in mind, we are not going to respond to a crime until it actually happens. So good evening to you, sir, and good-bye!"
Officer Jenny hung up on the other side.
"*sigh* Looks like I'll have to go and stop them myself, if this really is gonna happen. I mean, that was all a dream…but why did it feel so real?" Tracey muttered to himself, putting down the receiver. He went back into his room, changed his clothes, grabbed his PokéBalls and climbed out the window.
Tracey went to the side of the lab he saw in his dream and hid in some bushes. He looked at his watch. It was just about midnight. He heard footsteps. Right on time, he thought. The man opened the window with his crowbar and...
"NOT SO FAST!"
"Huh?"
Tracey stepped out of the bushes.
"I know what you've come to do in this lab. I won't let you."
"Hey! It's one of those twerps we met in the Orange Islands! Tracey!" the guy said.
"So you still remember me, Botch."
"It's Butch, you twit!"
"Uh...yeah. Do you still remember what I did to you back in Westside Island Elementary?"
Butch's eyes widened.
"What's the matter?" The girl, Cassidy asked. Butch just shook his head.
"It was just some freak occurrence. Ugh, we should get away now. We've left the alarm on too long."
"Oh no you don't! Everyone, go!"
Tracey released Scizor, Venomoth, and Marril.
"If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get! Go, Raticate!" Cassidy retorted.
"You too, Primeape!"
"You're still outnumbered," Tracey pointed out.
"What we lack in quantity, we make up for in Power! Raticate, Hyper Beam!"
"Scizor! Deflect it with your Swords Dance!"
Scizor spun, breaking up the beam as it hit him.
"Primeape! Mega Punch!"
Primeape smacked Tracey's Pokémon clear across their faces. They were fazed for a while, but shook it off.
"Scizor! Marril! Raticate's still recharging. Go for it! Venomoth, use Psybeam on Primeape!"
"Primeape! Give that Venomoth the Rock Slide treatment!"
Primeape dug out large rocks from the ground. As soon as he had a sufficient pile, he threw them in Venomoth's way in large quantities. Venomoth dodged them easily, but each shot was coming closer and closer. Eventually, Primeape got a boulder hurtling directly at Venomoth.
"NO! Venomoth!" Tracey shouted.
ZZZZNNN! A purple glow engulfed the rock.
"Huh?" everyone gaped. Tracey noticed his hand was held out in the direction of the rock, as if by reflex again. He swung his hand to the left. The rock moved with it. He swung it to the right. The same thing happened. Then he set it gently on the ground. Cassidy and Butch watched with their eyes and mouths wide open. All the Pokémon were staring at Tracey, too. There was a moment of silence, except for the alarm still blaring.
"...Well, what are you waiting for?! Psybeam! Psybeam!" Tracey ordered frantically.
"Venomoth!" VWOOOOONN~~~~~~~~
"Priiiiiiime!" Primeape cried. The Psybeam completely took out its HP and it fainted. Scizor and Marril were continuing to beat up Raticate.
The police finally arrived, as did Professor Oak. He lived very close to the lab, after all, and heard the commotion. As Officer Jenny cuffed Butch and Cassidy, she noticed Tracey.
"Oh! You're the one who called in earlier—"
"—to inform you that these two would try to break into the lab. Yeah."
"I'm sorry I didn't take you seriously. And you went and took care of things! Thanks, that made out job easier."
"You're welcome."
Officer Jenny and her assistants escorted Butch, Cassidy, and their Pokémon into the police van and departed.
"So, Tracey. I overheard you tried to report this crime before it happened," Professor Oak said.
"Eh, yeah I did."
"Care to tell me how you knew?"
"Well, I foresaw it in a dream I had earlier, before I called, and…"
"And?"
"I've come to the conclusion that I'm...psychic."
"Oh? What makes you say that?"
"Some strange things have happened to me in the past, plus..."
Tracey pointed to a stick on the ground. He summoned it to his hand with a few gestures and grabbed it. Professor Oak stared, amazed.
"D-Do you know what this means for you, Tracey?! Very few are blessed with the ability to tap into that kind of brainpower!"
"I know. But I'm gonna be real casual about it."
"Why?"
"I've been psychic since I was little, but I never realized it until now."
Tracey smirked as he turned and walked back to Mrs. Ketchum's house.
THE END