*~*The Felicities and Fallacies of Pokémon Training*~*
Chapter Eleventh: Get Over Yourself
Written by the Duke of Briarcliffe
*~*
Author's Notes: It's nice how there are even more people reviewing after all this time. Thanks a lot to Flamo and Blonde and DiamondIncredible. I was like, so confused. I was like, "Huh?" who are they? LOL. I appreciate everything. And to Shadow, I'm sorry for leaving you flabbergasted. And Erriel, she wasn't going to really knife him; it was just a little torture. —The Duke of Briarcliffe
*~*
"Remember, people will judge you by your actions, not your intentions. You may have a heart of gold—but so does a hard-boiled egg." —Anonymous
*~*
THE VISION OF HIS BEST FRIEND SNUGGLED UP with his crush in the wee hours of the morning with scarcely any clothes on was not very heartwarming when Madison waltzed in for his daily Pepsi and Oreo cookie. He was a junk food maniac yet somehow he managed not to gain much weight. He was one of those naturally slim types. Well, upon entering the room, his mouth quite fell down to the ground and his vision changed into a friendly shade of red.
"What the hell is going on in here?" he roared. The noise caused Duncan to bolt upright, making Nasturtium fall to the floor and land on her head. Luckily, she wasn't hurt, for her neck wasn't very long and, from a distance, seemed as if it blended with the rest of her body.
"Why are you yelling?"
Madison's eyes went wide. He pointed at the unconscious Imagen. "This is why I'm yelling. She's why I'm yelling. What is she and Nasturtium doing here? With you?"
Duncan looked down at the ground towards Nasturtium and then back over to Imagen and said. "It's a long story and I'm much too tired to tell you the entire thing. Besides, we didn't do anything if that's what you're worrying about. You're my best friend."
"That hasn't stopped you before," he mumbled as he wolfed down his cookie and took a long swig of his Pepsi. He threw the can into the trashcan after it was promptly crushed and leered back over towards Duncan. "What the hell happened to you? You look like you got hit by a car and got run over."
He touched his cheek and winced from the stinging pain that was produced from his gesture. He thought that that damn splinter had gotten embedded into his very buttock and he probably had a red hand-mark on his left cheek. "A little conflict is all. I'm fine."
"What time did she get here—"
"Madison! I said that I will tell you everything later. I wouldn't try anything on Imagen. Besides, she wouldn't let me if I did. Now just hop off," he exploded. Madison only behaved like that over girls and it's evident that it irritated Duncan very much. Duncan got up from the floor and awkwardly sat down beside Nasturtium and stroked her cheek. She flinched.
He stood up, suddenly. "You must be hungry. I'll go get Boomer and you two can eat together, all right," he said, hurriedly. He felt obligated to be nice to her. Imagen had made him think about things in a whole new perspective. He understood her behavior much better now.
Before Duncan could mount the two or so steps that led to the bedrooms, Boomer came gliding across the slick hardwood floors and used his vines to launch himself into Duncan, who consequently fell back down the stairs. "Boomer," he said with a laugh as he picked up himself and Boomer. "Hungry?"
Nasturtium watched the merry couple skip their merry way towards the refrigerator and pull out an assortment of foods. And, much to Nasturtium's surprise, Duncan began to neatly slice the fruit into sections and place them into a large metal bowl. She strode over there and placed herself next to her young counterpart. But Boomer was a voracious eater, and pretty soon, Nasturtium was forced to whack him away from her; she wasn't able to get any food!
"[What was that for?]" he whined, very much hurt. He'd never been hit like that, except from Buster—but that was in a match; therefore, it was to be expected. But, since she was a Chikorita, he felt some sort of natural kinship towards her. And friends, or family, are not supposed to hit one another.
"[Have you ever heard of sharing, kid?]" Nasturtium gobbled up as much as she could, the fruit giving her the short energy boost that she needed so much. Boomer nudged her and said, "[Me have to eat too!]"
The smaller Chikorita began to push up against Nasturtium, which made her uncomfortable and very agitated. "[Kid, I don't want to hit you again. Be smart and just walk on the other side of the bowl and eat like a civilized Chikorita.]"
"[What's 'civilized'?]" Without waiting for a response, he began to push her once more. He made a little game out of it: every time he pushed her, he would do it from a different direction. It was quite fun and he expressed his mirth very boisterously.
"Come on, Boomer. You both can share. She's not at her best health right now," Duncan lightly scolded him. Boomer obediently marched over to his side of the wide bowl and dutifully munched on the apple and nut mixture. He peered over at Nasturtium under lowered eyes and a hint of a grin remained on his lips.
"[Me like you! We be best friends in no time!]"
Nasturtium rolled her eyes at him and continued to eat her fill. There was so much going on in her head. She felt weak. She felt like should collapse at any given moment. Whether Boomer knew it or not, that single attack had left her reeling inside. She was sick; and it wasn't just the sickness that she gave off: it was much more than that.
With Boomer gleefully tagging along, Nasturtium lolled back over to the couch and circled around the a spot near Imagen before lying down. Observing carefully, Boomer then mimicked her gesticulation and laid himself down next to her with a bright smile on his face. When he thought she wasn't looking, he snuggled in closer.
"What are we going to do about Imagen?" Madison asked after he had come from brushing his teeth until they were a sparkling white. "I mean, she has to get home and change out of this Goth stuff."
"We should just let her sleep. She needs a break. Maybe I can call in for her at Café au Lait," Duncan responded as he glanced at her sleeping form. She looked really nice, not at all like the hothead that she was while awake.
"Since when did you get all caring? Correct me if I am wrong—although I am not—but I believe that you said that she was the biggest bitch in all of Celadon. Oh wait! You said that she was the biggest bitch in the whole world!"
"Oh did he?" asked Imagen as she suddenly rose from her siesta and sat upright, rubbing the grime out of her eyes. Her cheeks felt that weird way that they do after one finishes crying, like something evaporated on them. They felt cold. "I didn't think you had it in you, Duncan. It's nice to know that you have some guts. Next time, say it to my face; I wouldn't do any less for you."
Duncan grinned nervously. "You can go take a shower if you want to. We have some towels and you can borrow one of my sweatshirts if you want. I mean, you're already late for work, might as well take the whole day off."
"That sounds nice," she said, looking pensive. "I mean, I've never missed a day before." Getting up and stretching, she asked, "Where's the phone?" Madison directed her to where it was and then, after she was gone, he rushed over to Duncan.
"Is it me, or does it seem like you guys just spent the night with one another and it's the morning after. (Mimicking his voice, he said:) You can borrow one of my sweatshirts if you want. Give me a break, dude."
"If you ask me, I think that you're just paranoid."
"Me? Paranoid? I don't think so. Besides, I didn't ask you," he defended himself as he went into his room. Duncan shook his head. I think he's just a little jealous of me. The thought was empowering in a sense because it was always the other way around.
Moments later, Imagen returned to room and asked where did he have some food. He told her that there was some Honey Bunches of Oats in the cabinet and some milk in the fridge. She began to prepare her breakfast when, all of a sudden, she tensed up and said: "I have to go right now."
"Why?"
"James!" she exclaimed as she pulled at the hem of her ribbed black sweater and smoothed her black boot-cut jeans. She looked around frantically before setting her eyes on Duncan. Then she rushed towards him, arm extended, and it seemed like she was trying to grab him down there, so he squirmed back in his seat. "Calm down," she hissed as she retrieved her handy pocket knife from a crevice in the middle of the cushions. "I am not trying to grab your balls."
Then, without so much as a goodbye to him, she said, "It was nice having you with us, Nasturtium. I hope that you, Boomer, and Duncan get along now."
Duncan stood up. "So that's it? You're just going to leave...even after the night that we spent together? I'm pretty sure that your grandparents won't mind keeping James for a little while."
"Duncan," Imagen sighed. "You're sounding like some virgin in some stupid teen movie. Get over it. I want to put that behind me."
"But why? Didn't it make you feel better?"
She placed a hand on her hip and looked at him sideways. "It conjured up horrible memories. I don't like to think about that or else I'll cry. So I don't. (When she saw that Duncan wasn't exactly comprehending she said,) Yesterday wasn't a very happy night. I'm happy that you were nice enough to comfort me when I needed a shoulder to cry on and all but I don't want, or need, your pity."
"I don't pity you. I sympathize with you. Besides, it's raining outside and you don't have an umbrella. I'm coming with you."
"What? No you're not. I can get there fine on my own."
"I insist," he told her, going into his bedroom and slipping on a shirt and a pair of jeans and his sneakers. When he returned, completely ready, Imagen was fuming. "I said that I was fine. I don't even need your damn umbrella."
"Well you can't strut around with a ski mask on. You'll get arrested or something. We can catch a cab, my treat. Come on Boomer and Nasturtium, I can take you to the Pokémon Center."
"I don't know why I'm just standing here, letting you boss me around."
"It's because I'm right. I'm being nice to you for a change. Be nice to me for once," he explained as he fetched his pokémon—both of them, he hadn't gotten Nasturtium's ball destroyed—and gave Imagen his windbreaker. Then, when Duncan was waiting for her in the doorframe, Imagen consented to follow him down the hallway.
"So, where did you learn those moves?"
*~*
The danky apartment was unlike anything that Duncan had ever seen or even heard of. Even his grandparent's house didn't smell that bad. Perhaps, he thought, that it's because they live in a really big house. He stepped over a random piece of clutter and walked behind Imagen like she was his bodyguard, protecting him from some unknown threat.
In the sitting room there sat two ancient people in rocking chairs. One ran his fingers along the leaves of some hardbound text and the other purled at some multicolored yarn, rocking in content. When they heard them advancing, the man-ancient croned, "Où as-tu été, le soir dernier? (Where were you last night?)"
"Bonjour, Grandpère. J'ai été à la maison de mon ami, (I was at my friend's house)" she replied in a friendly tone—well as much as she could manage when she knew that before she could depart, she would have to complete a list of different chores.
"Quand est-ce que tu as quitté? (When did you leave?)" he asked.
"Le soir dernier, Grandpère. Maintenant, je suis bien. Je n'ai pas fait le mauvais chose. (I'm fine now. I didn't do anything wrong.)"
"¡Pare el interrogar de ella, viejo tonto! Si ella desea ser una puta,
entonces déjela ser una. Apenas sé que ella estaba en la casa de algún muchacho. Puedo oírla en sus pasos. (Stop interrogating her, old fool! If she wants to be a whore, then let her be one. I just know that she was at some boy's house. I can hear it in his footsteps.)" she yelled.
"Abuela!"
"¡No levante su voz en mí! Soy su abuela. ¡Si no fuera para mí, para
nosotros, usted y el muchacho estaría hacia fuera en las calles! (Don't raise your voice at me! I am your grandmother. If it weren't for me, for us, you and the boy would be out on the streets!)"
Imagen was silent. After a scorching glare aimed at her grandparents, she grabbed Duncan by the arm and dragged him into the hallway, where James contentedly sat with a tiny thumb placed in his mouth, producing soft gurgling sounds. "Hey James," she said in a cheerful voice as she hoisted him into the air and smothered him with kisses. Then, she scrunched up her nose and said, "Ewe, you stinky. Yes you are; yes you are."
The whole scene was so endearing to Duncan. He'd never thought that Imagen held the capacity to smother someone in as much affection as she did her brother. A smile couldn't help but tug at the corners of his mouth, even in the midst of such chaos.
After she changed his diaper, she went about her chores, demanding that if Duncan helped, she would floor him...again. She was so speedy. Usually when someone does something in a hurry, there lies discrepancies; however, with Imagen, there were none. Within two hours or so, the house was spotless, James was cute and clean again, and food was prepared.
"Je vais revenir à vingt-deux heures. Je prends le bébé. Adieux! (I'll be back at ten o' clock. I'm taking the baby.)" she announced as she handed Duncan the stroller and closed the door. Once the door was locked, she let out a loud sigh of relief.
Duncan barely had time to choke out an adieux to the ancients.
*~*
They took a long walk around Celadon Park. The rain had ceased to preciptate and the sun was at its zenith in the sky, radiating its presence. The flowers looked beautiful, taking in the Sun's warm embrace. Droplets of water hung suspended at the tips of the colorful petals and the sweet frangrance of their nectars filled the air. The smaller types of pokémon drunk from these sources and some of them ate them. It was incredible.
The pokémon were having a grand time, all except Nasturtium, who was struggling to keep up with the others. Her eyes were bright with fascination but not with health. Duncan couldn't help but begin to worry, despite the harsh treatment she had endured on his behalf.
"You have to take her to the Pokémon Center really soon," Imagen told him as she watched little James jumping around with the pokémon. He'd taken a divine interest in Nasturtium's leaf and was constantly trying to grab it. "That's a no-no, James," Imagen reminded him, but he still went about in his little game. Nasturtium fended him off with a stray vine, a weak smile on her face.
"I know, I know," Duncan repeated. "Everything is just so sudden. It's weird adjusting with her again. She's so different and so changed. And now that I think about what I did, I feel like such an asshole. But I know, I just know that it it's partly her fault too."
"Correction—you were the one who threw her out. And you were an asshole long before then. Take my word on it. Every bad thing that you do, comes back to you, you know? I'm glad that it gave me reason to torture you. I've been wanting to do that for a long time."
Duncan wryly grinned. "That's...nice. Why do you—why did you hate me so much? I mean, I was never mean to you until after you were mean to me," he asked, looking over at Imagen. She had a nice profile now that he thought about it. Everything was perfect and in proportion.
"I can't stand it when I see someone act as if they're on top of the world, and that everything needs to be handed down to them instead of them going to get something for themselves. Maybe I'm just jealous—but I'm not—because I've had such a hard time in life." She suddenly looked at him with a raised brow. "Who said that I like you?"
He could understand where she was coming from. Dismissing her last statement, he continued. "So, that gives you the right to hold a grudge against that person?"
"No. But you...you were special. There's just some people that you don't like, no matter what they do to try and make it up to you. You just get bad vibes sometimes."
"And I gave you bad vibes? That's impossible. I'm not a bad person, or...at least I don't think that I am. I'm as nice as a lamb."
"Actions speak louder than words, Duncan," she told him as she focused on Nasturtium's weakened gait. "And what you did to Nasturtium was unforgivable. I'm surprised that she's handling everything so well. I know that something's been up with her. She looks so sad sometimes."
They walked on in silence for a few more moments.
Nasturtium had tried to play with the other pokémon. She even managed to do a little "jumping the vine" with Buster and Boomer. However, after she stopped, she began to pant...loudly. Then, fine beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead. Her movements became even more sluggish, and legarthic. The sun seemed to be scorching her leaf; she could almost feel the edges turn crispy and wither away. Pretty soon, she was stumbling over her own, pointy feet. And then, all of a sudden, she just collapsed onto the ground the soft green earth, unmoving except for one minor twitch.
*~*
"It seems like your Chikorita is suffering from a mild case of depression and of dehydration," Nurse Joy proclaimed as she came out of her operating room, pulling off her plastic gloves. "Oh! She has a little bit of fluid in her lungs too."
"A mild case of depression? Any case of depression is anything but mild," Duncan exploded. It was the same old klutz from before, and just laying eyes on her made him boil over in rage.
"Hey, hey, hey! All of that isn't necessary, Brian."
"It's Duncan," he corrected her.
"Okay, Brian."
Duncan rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. Here he was: in a Pokémon Center, his pokémon in some little insulated box, and a ditzy Nurse Joy who acted like she didn't even know the enormity of Nasturtium's condition. It was enough to put someone over the edge.
"Well?"
"Well what?" Nurse Joy asked with wide, interested eyes.
"What should I do? How long will I have to stay here? Hell, is she even going to survive? Come, give me a resolution," Duncan said impatiently. There's some people that just bring out the worst qualities in a person, and she was one of them.
"Uh...I think that she should stay overnight for about a day or so. I'll even feed her through a little tube. And, once she is released, she must not take part in any harsh physical activity until she is better and she must get lots and lots of water so that that cute little life will get greener," she giggled. "Also, once she is better, you must come and see me again."
"For what?"
"I'm a pokémon psychiatrist too, you know," she proudly heralded.
"Really?"
"Yeah," Imagen spoke up. "As weird as it may sound. People come here all the time."
Duncan nodded in understanding, yet a hint of uncertainty still lingered in his conscience. What fool would ever come to yet another fool so that they could hear how their pokémon was fairing?
"Hey Imagen, do you mind staying for tonight?"
"I called in earlier, Joy. I'm taking a day off."
She placed a hand on her forehead and pouted her lips. "But you're not warm. Hey! You're not sick! You lied to me!"
"I said that I was taking the day off. You know, what you did a few days ago when I had to sub in for you that whole time?"
"Oh! So you're taking a vacation? Where are you going? I hear that the Seafoam Islands are nice around this time of year," she informed her with a nod of her head.
"Damn it, Joy! I'm just taking a day off—one day. What don't you understand? Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?" Imagen scoffed, making her voice deliberately slow.
"Crystal clear," she chirped with a wide grin. "Why don't you go home for the night." Then, she leaned in closer and put a hand over the right side of her face in an effort do disguise what she was doing. "Why don't you and your boyfriend go spend some quality time together, hm?"
"He is not my boyfriend, Joy," she seethed.
"He's kinda cute though," Nurse Joy said as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. Imagen looked too. With his thick black hair and tall, muscular frame and majectically purple eyes, she made up the supposition that he wasn't bad-looking. But, she knew that deep down inside, if they were to go out, they would be the most ill-matched couple in the—oops, that would be too sappy, in Duncan's words—they would be the most ill-matched couple...ever.
*~*
Concluding Statements: This was a transitional chapter. I guess the last chapter really took a lot out of my creative and imaginative genius. Just kidding. ^_-! Please read and review. Thank you! Oh! Give Replacement by Erriel a look. It's pretty cool. Or Karania the Legend by Lauren Black, or The Immortals by Keleri! Your grateful author—The Duke of Briarcliffe