Disclaimer: I have no right to profit from Pokémon, so I don't.

Author's Note: This fic isn't actually anti-trainer. It's just anti-badge. Also, this is slightly based on Game canon, and slightly based on TV canon. Mostly, it's my dimension. So it may not conform exactly.

Defenders of the Badge

Part Three: Into the Night

As Nidoqueen was injured, the rest of us fought more often in the Gym, covering for her. There were also more Gym battles to be fought. We were entering the season of battles that came before the annual Indigo Tournament, and the battles we faced could be divided into two types; those against experienced trainers who battled just to give their Pokémon experience, often playing to type advantages; and those against rookie, first-year trainers who needed just one or two more badges to enter Indigo, and aimed for the Earth Badge because it was a high-ranking one worth several points.

The experienced ones were less threat to the Badge. Often, they didn't even challenge Giovanni, preferring to practise with his Junior Trainers. Of which he had a few. They weren't ordinary Junior Trainers, though, as other gyms have them. They were members of Team Rocket whose day job was to train us. They had Pokémon of their own.

The younger trainers were often very bad, and Giovanni frequently used Mewtwo against them. I suppose he assumed that they were too inexperienced to recognise an unofficial Pokémon.

Nidoking, too, was sent out a lot. Giovanni seemed to recognise the signs of his mental inbalance, and was possibly hastening his end. Nidoking was becoming mad in the polarised way.

Occasionally he failed the Badge, fighting only with his strength. On one such occasion I was sent out after him.

The Pokémon who had defeated him was only a Tauros; a good battling type usually, but already half worn down. I fainted it.

Then the trainer - male, shadowy, I never notice much about them - sent out an Umbreon.

There are Pokémon who are perfect opponents to each other - it happens rarely, but it happens. Not to say that Rhyhorn are the best sparring partners to Umbreon in general - just that I was an exact match for this particular Umbreon, and immediately, we both knew it.

He was faster than me, of course; I shot off a few Scary Faces at the start, however, and reduced that advantage. Giovanni called out few commands, as usual; I followed them with my own improvisations, and the manoeuvres I had learned. The Umbreon countered.

"We need this badge!" he barked at me. (To Pokémon, all Pokémon languages convey the same thing. It's a matter of intonation.) He stood at bay, panting, eyes narrowed for my movement.

"You don't want the Badge," I said with both halves of me - day and night - and the sincerity of that statement struck him long enough for me to use Earthquake, which took him down for good.

v v v

For good, but not for long.

The Umbreon's trainer was away for a few days, but he returned to battle. Again, we were our opponents' second fighters, and again, I won. The Umbreon may have needed an Earth badge, and may have been motivated for reasons of his own as well as his trainer's, but I had the Badge behind me, urging me on, and I believe that no other motivation could equal that.

Mewtwo rarely fought. Giovanni was more cautious about who he sent the Psychic aberration up against, preferring to exercise Mewtwo against Dan'in trainers with powerful Pokémon of their own. Several other Pokémon began to be housed in our cells, who weren't Ground types; a Kingler, and a Machamp, for example.

Giovanni's treatment of Mewtwo seemed understandable. At first he'd enjoyed gloating over the power that Mewtwo provided him; he'd enjoyed watching the stunned faces of challengers whose Pokémon had been effortlessly broken. Now the novelty was wearing off, and Giovanni was seeking ways to boost Mewtwo's power, setting his scientists to discover Mewtwo's capabilities and limits.

Mewtwo went along with all of this. Perhaps Mewtwo's strength was no longer new to Giovanni, but to Mewtwo, his own powers were a source of infinite amazement. When not exploring them, he spent his time wondering about his own nature, trying to answer questions of who he was and why he had come to be.

v v v

"Why don't I want the badge?" asked the Umbreon, the fourth time we fought.

I didn't have an answer - it was too twisted up in my own mind, between what I wanted and what the Badge wanted. I fixed him with my eyes, and rumbled, "You don't want to be a slave!" Then I pounced and used my Stomp technique.

I believe I broke his leg. Nothing the Pokémon Centre couldn't fix, and certainly nothing that would mark Giovanni as a 'brutal' trainer, or I as a 'dangerous' fighter.

The Umbreon, I came to realise, wanted a better answer.

When he asked me again, I didn't reply. I was almost defeated at that point. Battling with the Umbreon was like trusting myself to fate and then trying anyway - most other opponents could be gauged. I never knew whether I would win or lose. So far, I had won, and this didn't mean anything. If you flip a coin ten times, and ten times it comes up tails, it is still equally likely to come up heads or tails the next time you flip it.

And then, the next time I saw the Umbreon, it was in my dreams.

The night of the dreams, I slept early. I didn't ponder my situation every night - it wasn't a good policy. Some nights I simply slept. That was my plan for staying sane.

But I had never dreamed before - at least, not under the Badge. Nevertheless, here I was, standing in a dim, grey place. I turned and saw the Umbreon walking towards me.

"Where are we?"

"In your dreams," the Umbreon explained.

"Oh. I didn't realise I was dreaming," I said simply. "I've never done that before."

"I wouldn't be able to reach you if you weren't."

"What do you mean? You're in my dream. So you can't be real. You're something my mind has recreated."

"I'm not."

"You can say anything you like. It still originates from my own brain."

"My name is Deimos," the Umbreon replied. "Ask me when we next battle, and ask yourself how you could have known."

He disappeared. I sat waiting, wondering what would happen next. There was nothing but greyness, which faded into…

…morning.

v v v

I didn't remember to ask. He reminded me.

"Aren't you going to ask me what my name is?" he mocked, as I entered the arena to begin our fight.

I blinked at him. The Badge-mind almost obscured the memory, but I said, "Deimos?"

"That's right."

I shot a Scary Face at him, and he used Leer.

"Why shouldn't I want a badge?" Deimos asked.

No answer.

"If you won't tell me," Deimos replied, feinting left and leaping over me, "then - see you in your dreams."

And that night, after I'd defeated him, I did.

Having thought about it before falling asleep, I decided there was nothing wrong with telling him about the Earth Badge and what it did. If, after that, he still wanted it, it was an informed choice and I didn't care. If he decided he didn't, that was one discouraged challenger - so much the better. If he found something in what I told him that would help him win a badge from me, there was nothing I could do about that, and although it was extremely unpleasant to a Defender to lose at the cost of a badge - to our daytime selves, it was something of a phobia - it would probably be good for me to talk to someone, other than the equally obsessed Defenders, about our slavery.

However, I did want to learn how Deimos managed to enter my dreams.

Once asleep, I asked him.

"A dark ability," Deimos said, "although it requires practice and skill."

"Could anyone stop you? Mewtwo, for example?"

"A Psychic couldn't. Another Dark Pokémon could possibly shield you in such a way that I couldn't reach you. You yourself could expel me from your mind - but I won't tell you how - at least, not yet."

Fair enough. Pokémon detect lies more easily than humans, as far as I know; not only did Deimos not lie, he showed no inclination or reason to.

I began to answer his question.

Thanks everyone! Hrm, I appreciate your honesty. No, my fic does not run quite true to any Pokémon canon.