Summary—Under the conditions of looking out for Number One, Ash is rescued by two unknown Team Rocket members, and starts his journey. Finally. With extra passengers along for the ride, of course.
Chapter 5:
To Protect and Kidnap
"There ain't no way he's moving, Sir," Johnny said with a forced smile. Why was he always the one volunteered for this? Why was it his job to make sure this guy was happy? If George was still around, he could have done it; he liked it, he liked this guy! But George disappeared months ago, after the last Rocket business over here . . . not that the dork would actually join this pack of nuts. God, an Onix killed his mom right in front of his face. George won't have anything to do with Pokémon. Of that, Johnny was pretty sure . . . well, decently sure. He'd put money down, albeit only a nickel the more he thought about it. "Not with all them drugs in his system."
Giovanni nodded, seemingly uninterested as he gave the child his complete attention. He said nothing, and the silence welled up around the office.
Like any inexperienced deliverer, Johnny tried to fill it up. "When are you taking him?" When are you leaving?
"Soon. Where is his Pikachu?"
"One of the girls been watching it for him, Shamin. She's taking a liking to the kid, I'd wager. Miriam too. They know he doesn't want to leave, but they also know he'll be leaving soon anyway to continue his 'training'." Johnny made the worst face he dared in the presence of Giovanni. "I can say he left for that when he disappears. She'll buy it, and Miriam won't be bothered."
Giovanni nodded again. For once supervising the trip over here had been worth it. Usually he ended up having to train idiots who were afraid of Pokémon. Sometimes Giovanni wondered why he even bothered keeping the place open for these riff-raff, but then remembered that it was a very nice way to pick up cheap help. Well, this time he had found a Trainer, a good Trainer who'd rival some of his top officials. He nodded again, smiling. The boy would be good.
"Purrr," Persian purred.
****
Ash could feel himself being moved carefully, picked up into a set of arms, in the back of his semi-comatose state. Part of him wanted to wake up, but the other part, the stronger part (thanks to the drugs) left him without any motivation other than to simply take what would happen without compliant. His very nature fought against the order, but there was no way he could win for but a moment.
"Grab the Pikachu."
"Pi-KA!"
"Ei! It's gonna SHOCK ME!"
"Shh! Quiet!"
"Don't shock ME! We're helping him!
"Pikachu?"
The stealthy footsteps did not jostle him, like the carrier was actually concerned about his well being. They were slow and purposeful, and even though each step did give him a jolt, it was not nearly as bad as it could have been.
Maybe they did not travel far, or maybe Ash had drifted into a deeper realm of unconsciousness again, but soon he was being set down. There was a light paw on his side, and even without looking Ash could tell it was Pikachu.
"Pikapi."
"Do you think we should have?"
"Shut up and cover him up."
"All I'm saying is—"
"I know what you're saying! He'll be fine right here. No one'll find him. Everyone'll think he left, especially with his Pikachu and bag gone as well."
"How? He's all doped up."
A voice snorted. "Listen, he joins, he'll be one of the top after all the persuasion they'll give him. Do you really want to go down a step?"
"I thought we already were pretty low, except for that one pair over in Indigo or some place. Boss put them down as janitorial, I think. That could have been us, except we finally got a good swipe." The Trainer smiled happily, immensely pleased with the turn of luck their team had received. Over the past few years, it was no great secret in Team Rocket that they were probably one of the worst teams. They rivaled another bumbling set over in some wussy town area for the worst. Yet, as it turned out, a little over a year ago their luck changed, and they moved up with surprising speed. They weren't bad criminals or Pokémon users, but they always managed to go up against really good Trainers, ones that were better than them. But, as it turned out, with all that Training, they were now better than at least a quarter of Team Rocket. And they owed it all to a one—
"If we go down any lower, that will be us!"
"EEE! You're kidding? We just got on his good side!"
"No, I'm not! He can stay here until the tranquilizers work out of his system. And, if he's smart, he'll take off."
Ash rolled his head slightly and struggled to open his good (or not-so-good) eye. It opened a sliver and he looked up.
"You?" he whispered, barely audible.
The two faces looked down startled at him, but he fell back into his torpor before they could say anything.
****
"What do you mean he disappeared?"
It would have been better if Giovanni had yelled. Team Rocket knew how to act properly when someone yelled at them. But Giovanni had merely asked it like he was wondering whose turn it was to put out the Persian. They looked at each other in a worry.
"He's gone, Sir," one said lamely.
Giovanni brought his hands up to his face, making it seem like he was praying. "Might I ask how?" Again he accented the last word, making it so the underlings just had to hear the last word to actually know the question.
"We, uh, don't exactly know. Yet."
"Wasn't anyone watching him?"
Again they all looked at each other. They figured that one didn't have to watch a vegetable with both eyes. A locked door should have sufficed.
"No, Sir," someone muttered.
Giovanni didn't bother to ask why as he leaned back in the chair. "Find him. That shouldn't be too difficult for you."
****
Shamin slammed her bag down hard, swearing words a rare person heard her say. Miriam glanced up momentarily from her magazine, a sympathetic look on her face. "Careful. Ya'll knock down my pictures."
Her eyes narrowed as her head snapped over to her roommate. "You know where he is, don't you?"
"No, I don't," Miriam said lightly, turning a page.
"How can you be so calm?" Shamin demanded, plopping onto her bed and staring at the ceiling. There was a poster of a relatively cute model taped to it. When she had been younger (she had stolen it from a store), she had always hoped the tape would give way, but, being as she was stupid, Shamin had used a very strong tape.
"How can ya be so worked up? Ya knew he was goin' to leave."
"You think he just took off last night?" she said incredulously, rolling onto her stomach. Miriam shrugged. "Get realistic."
"Ya should say 'get real'. Easier to say."
"Don't change the subject! Shan couldn't have left. You saw him!"
"He's a tough kid. Probably wasn't as bad off as we thought."
"Come on! He couldn't have rolled out of bed!" As if to prove her point, Shamin did roll out of bed and landed cat-like on the floor.
Miriam looked down at her from her magazine, and then sighed. "Shamin, are ya just sayin' this stuff cuz ya don't want to believe the other way?"
Shamin's face turned red. "Miriam!"
"Well?"
"That's not the point! The point is he couldn't have!" She paused, then added, "And he wouldn't have. He would have said good-bye."
"Guys are like that, Hon. Get used to it," Miriam advised, returning back to her magazine.
"Shan isn't!"
"Ya ever hear the sayin' 'Love is blind'? Ya should have, cuz ya're their poster model. Face it, he pulled the wool over yar eyes. All men are alike."
Shamin pressed her lips together and leaped up. "He did it to you too!"
Miriam followed the roommate with her eyes, noting dimly that the girl grabbed a half-filled pack, and not even wincing when the door was slammed shut. (Most Tunnel residents kept a pack filled in case the Police should ever raid the place; it was common and sensible practice.) "That he did," she agreed quietly, once she was sure Shamin wouldn't hear.
She tried to continue reading, Miriam really did. She had learned a long time ago to let things run their course, and not to get worked up about it, but finally she muttered, "Bugger this." She gripped her pack and took off after Shamin, who, since she knew the girl so well, was probably going off to a train station or something stupid and impetuous like that.
****
"Pikachu!" Pikachu yelped as Ash rolled over suddenly. Then she wrinkled her nose and turned away, allowing her Trainer to retch in semi-privacy. Once the noises stopped, she touched his arm lightly. "Pikapi?"
Ash wiped the corner of his mouth with his fist, heedless of the pain it caused. "Where are we, Pikachu?" His arms were shaking when he leaned against them.
She gesticulated wildly to try and tell him, and he nodded, although not understanding. Pikachu wasn't worried, so Ash found no reason for him to be as of yet. Finally, seeing that Ash wasn't looking so much for an answer, mainly because his mind wouldn't register it, but the tone, Pikachu stopped and smiled happily. "Pika chu chu pikachu!"
"Uh-huh," he nodded dumbly, leaning up against a wall. "Look, we have got to get out of here," he got out after a few false starts. "The train or something. It'd be stupid if I tried to walk out of town, huh?"
Pikachu nodded, looking at the green under the blue-black-purple. "Chu, pikachu!" she said, a light bulb going off in her brain.
"Wait! No!" Ash yelped, making an ill-aimed grab for her, not wanting her to leave him. He watched as the mouse leaped out the door and his sight. "Damn!" Then he proceeded to be sick again, even though the last time he must have emptied out his stomach. As he said before, life could seriously suck.
****
"Ya're gonna fall in."
Shamin snapped her head sharply at the déjà vu statement. Seeing that it was only Miriam, her gaze went back to her heels that she was banging against the blocks. "What do you want?"
Miriam leaped up next to her, ignoring the glares people gave them. One learned to do that after awhile. "I said ya're gonna fall in, Hon." Just as long as ya don't jump.
"Will not."
"Ya will if I push ya." Miriam gauged the reaction. "Ya weren't at the station."
Shamin snorted. "I told you I'm not stupid," she said darkly. Miriam waited for the punch line. "I wouldn't even know what train he'd get on."
Pleased that she wasn't disappointed, Miriam smiled. "Of course." She turned her head to look at the water. "So what are ya doin' here? Semi-mental value?"
"It's called sentimental."
"Toe-mate-toe, toe-mot-toe," she breezed, shrugging. "Ya know, he probably would have said bye if he hadn't fallen down them stairs."
Shamin was quiet. "You really think he fell down? I mean, really? And don't say Johnny said he did, cuz Johnny lies through his teeth if it serves him enough."
"Johnny? No!" Miriam said sarcastically. "Look, Kiddo, ya believe what they tell ya so ya don't have to face the blunt reality of it all. Ya learn that."
"I don't buy the National Liar to read it, Miriam," Shamin sighed.
They were both quiet for a moment, each with different reasons.
"So now whatcha gonna do?" Miriam finally asked. "I mean, face it, either way that the ball was bounced, Blondie's gone."
Shamin looked blankly ahead of her. "I know," she agreed quietly.
Again they fell into silence.
"Come on. Let's head back," Miriam sighed.
"It's not late."
"So? We can still head back. Who knows? Maybe Blondie came back." Although I highly doubt it.
"You think he would?" Shamin asked hopefully.
"He might, or maybe Rodent," she half-lied as she leaped down. "But we ain't gonna find out stayin' here."
Shamin nodded her agreement as she too slid down. "I hope he came back, Miriam."
"Of course you do. Let's go."
****
"He didn't come back," Shamin wailed, sliding down the wall. "You said he would."
"I said he might," Miriam corrected off-handedly as she shut the door. "The whole place is lookin' for him." She remembered the looks Johnny had given them, and she knew he wanted to question either one or both of them. Lucky, the bastard could read facial expressions and found he'd get nothing helpful from them. He especially found out when Shamin questioned him, didn't care for the answer, and almost kicked him in the shin. Almost, except she had really bad aim and kicked a wee bit higher. In Miriam's opinion, it wasn't high enough.
"You'd think we could find him then," Shamin muttered.
"Well, with that attitude it's no wonder."
"No wonder what?"
Miriam rolled her eyes. "Never mind. Just grow up, all right." Shamin made a disgruntled face, but nodded in any case, as it was the easiest thing to do. "I gotta change."
"Why—" Miriam screaming cut her off, and Shamin leaped up. "What's wrong?"
The older woman whirled on her, clutching a bunch of clothes. "Look at my bloody clothes! They're ruined!" Shamin looked at her blankly. "They gots ketchup on them! Look!" The clothes were shoved in her face for inspection.
"Only little drops," Shamin said lightly, looking at the five drops that were on the clothes. Miriam tended to over-react on some things. "And it looks like it's been licked off." She thought about what she just said.
Miriam was unconvinced. "Ya know how much work I went into stealin' these! I mean, goin' from store to store to find which one had the highest prices—"
"Pikachu likes ketchup," Shamin said slowly, touching a drop.
"And then—oh." Miriam stopped when the statement hit her head, and she looked at the drops suspiciously. "These were clean when I put them away, just so ya know."
Shamin's eyes brightened. "Pikachu!" she called, running over to the dresser and throwing out the clothes.
"Hey, hey, hey! I just folded and ironed and whatevered those this morning!" Miriam yelped, dragging the younger away from her side of the dresser. "If ya're gonna do that, then do it proper. Don't mess up my clothes."
"Pikachu, you in there?" Shamin asked, ignoring Miriam's request, banging on the side.
"Ya should call quieter, Kid," Miriam suggested as she looked under the bed. "Lucky no one responds to screams here." She made a half-smile. "Where are ya, Rodent?"
"You sure those spots are fresh?" Shamin called from the bathroom.
"Yes I am!" She inspected the interior of Shamin's guitar, then strummed the strings.
"Pikachu?"
"Ya know, Rodent might not be in here. Could have taken off," she mused.
"PIKACHU!"
"Ya shouldn't yell for the Rodent, either."
"I'm not yelling," Shamin said, puzzled, re-entering the room.
Miriam looked up from the strings. "Then—? " She suddenly started laughing.
"What?" Shamin demanded hotly, hands on her lips.
With a smirk Miriam pointed a finger at the opposite wall. "Turn around."
Annoyed, Shamin did so, but then her face split into a grin. "Pikachu!"
Pikachu waved from the vent near the ceiling, the cover hanging by one screw. It was how she managed to get around the Tunnels for all these months and amuse herself. What, do you actually think she stayed in Ash's room like a good little Pokémon? Well, if you put it that way . . . "Pika!" she smiled, leaping down into the welcoming arms.
Shamin hugged her tightly. "Hey there! Where's Shan?"
The mouse pointed importantly in a direction, then leaped down and chatted in her language that neither of the girls understood.
Miriam snapped her fingers. "Lil' Timmy fell down the well again!" Both Shamin and Pikachu gave her a look. "Hey, it was a thought. I don't see ya comin' up with any ideas."
Shamin pressed her lips together. "You can take us to Shan, right, so we can say bye?" Pikachu nodded.
"Then lead the way, Rodent," Miriam sighed, standing up and grabbing her bag to allow Pikachu to leap into it. "Hi-HO!"
The green-haired girl did the same, except she grabbed her guitar as an after-thought.
"Why are you bringing that thing?"
"So I can beat Shan over the head with it for taking off without telling me."
"Ah. Why didn't I think of that?" In order not to look too suspicious with just Shamin leaving with her guitar, Miriam grabbed her crappy sax, one she had swiped from some bum (and he had deserved it, with those advances he made). That way, should anyone ask, they could claim they were playing the street for change. Forethought was important.
****
Ash stood impatiently (in a different room, because the former smelled of vomit) waiting for Pikachu. She shouldn't have run off. Cornflower was dangerous for a lone Pokémon.
He stretched his arms to loosen the tightened muscles and examine the bruises. Deep blue-purple-black-is-that-green? looked at him, covering nearly every square inch of skin he had available. Ash shook his head, his neck stretching painfully, figuring that he'd have to change his short-sleeved shirt to a long-sleeved one so no one would stare at him, at least at his arms. Carefully he touched his nose. His face would have to go as is, though.
After excavating a dark turtleneck, Ash crossed his arms and grabbed the base of his shirt. Exhaling, he quickly brought his arms and shirt up, gritting his teeth and hissing as his body loathed the action. There was a brief but intense struggle for dominance, and finally Ash managed to pull of the shirt from his head. He tossed the shirt into his pack and grabbed the fresh shirt.
He took a deep breath again.
"Why don'tcha take the rest off?"
Ash whirled around, painfully cracking his back in the process. "Miriam?" His voice was slightly hoarse from lack of use.
"And me!" Shamin added, pushing Miriam out of the way. She stopped to look at Ash fully, and stared for almost a full minute before finally saying (after Miriam poked her), "Ouch."
He made a face, then regretted the action. "I know. How'd you get here?" As an after thought, he added, "And where's here, anyway?"
"Rodent here led us," Miriam smiled, tilting her head so Pikachu could leap onto her shoulder and wave at Ash.
Ash visibly sighed with relief. "You're okay."
"Of course we are."
"He means Rodent, Hon."
Shamin looked visibly—well, to most of them—disappointed. "Oh." Then her face hardened as Ash took Pikachu away from Miriam. "You should have said good-bye to us, and not have jut taken off."
"I didn't take off. I was taken off," Ash said simply. Pikachu nodded her agreement.
"Pardon?" Miriam asked.
"Someone brought me here," he explained, twisting his shirt in his hands as he struggled to remember. "Whenever. A redhead and a bluehead. I . . . don't think I know them." He sounded unsure, but nodded anyway as he spoke.
"Everyone's looking for you," Shamin informed him.
Ash snorted, preparing to put the shirt on. "Let them. I'm outta here. No way I'm working for Team Rocket," he said from somewhere in the fabric. "Ah, damn." The last statement was a mutter.
"Need some help?" Miriam smiled grabbing the hem and jerking it down hard. His head shot painfully up from the hole, and she proceeded to fold over the collar while he whimpered ever-so-quietly over the new pain in his nose. "So where ya goin'?"
"I—"
"I heard there's an abandon lab a couple towns over," Shamin interrupted suddenly. "They—the town and stuff, I suppose—kicked the professor out."
"C—"
Miriam nodded, stepping back to admire her work on the collar. "I heard that too. Ya goin' head there, Blondie?"
Ash waited a moment before answering, in case anyone else decided to interrupt. "I think I should, to get a Pokédex and my Pokémon from a Professor I know." He looked at them sheepishly. "And could someone help me get my arms through the sleeves? They're kinda stuck."
The two girls looked at him and then each other, then proceeded to laugh. "I think we'll keep it as is," Shamin chuckled. "It has a very slimming effect." Ash made a face at her, but still ended up on the lesser end of the deal since the action made his face hurt.
****
"Ya're gonna do what?!" Miriam demanded loudly.
"I'm going to buy a ticket!" Ash repeated even louder.
Miriam raised her hands to emphasize her question. "Why?"
"Because—"
"No, why not just hop on board? I mean why buy a ticket?"
"So I don't get thrown off," Ash said simply, starting to walk past her. He was stopped abruptly when Miriam gripped his collar.
"Haven't we taught ya anything?"
"You said it yourself, Miriam. He's too honest," Shamin said disapprovingly, raising her nose at him teasingly.
"And this is a bad thing how?" he questioned, rubbing his neck to get the blood flowing. Miriam had a better grip than Misty ever had.
Miriam shook her head. "Shan, ya seen yarself? No, ya haven't. Listen to us on this. No one is gonna give someone who looks like ya do a ticket. Ya look like ya're a troublemaker, or some runways kid whose parents beat ya. Then ya'll just get the cops. Besides, ya don't think Team Rocket's not gonna be watchin' the ticket booths? Think, Blondie."
Ash actually paused, touching his face, then conceded that she was right. "Well, it's not like they're not not going to be looking for stowaways."
"Do you actually know where this lab is?" Shamin asked boldly, a smile on her face. "You don't, do you?"
"No," he said finally. Hey, he didn't even know if it actually existed.
She twirled her guitar, pleased with her results. "How do you plan to find the place?"
"Well, there's records, and all I'd have to do is look the place up on the Internet. What?" He questioned Shamin's face.
Miriam shook her head. "What Shamin is tryin' to subtly ask ya is if she can come along?"
"Am not!"
She ignored the interruption. "Anyway—Yar train preparing to leave, just so ya know. All ya do is slip carefully in one of the last boxes, hmm?"
Ash rolled his eyes. "Thanks for advice." He looked at the ticket booth. "Maybe I will for this town. And it's been nice knowing you guys. Thanks for your help."
"Good-bye?" Shamin whined.
"See ya, Blondie," Miriam smiled. "Rodent."
"Chu!" Pikachu responded from within the pack.
"Aren't you gonna get lonely or something?" Shamin demanded. "Even with Pikachu?"
Ash blinked. "I'll live."
"Well, me and Miriam can come along! I wanna try this training too. It looks like fun."
"What about me?" Miriam questioned sharply.
He looked at her skeptically, as if debating what kind of trainer she could be just by her appearance. "It's work, too."
"Stealing's work, and that's fun," Shamin pointed out.
"For you," Ash countered.
"Excuse me, did I hear ya invite me along?" Miriam demanded.
Shamin looked at her disapproving. "Oh, you've wanted to leave the Tunnels for months. She wants to be an actress or something like that," she informed Ash with a nod. "And you're not getting any closer staying in the Tunnels. Come on, Miriam!"
Miriam shook her head, more out of thought than actually answering. "I don't know."
Ash looked at the train. "Better hurry. Train's almost ready." He was kind of hopeful at the prospect of having traveling companions, but he wouldn't let on.
She crossed her arms. "Do either of ya even know how to board a train without gettin' caught?" They shook their heads mutely. "Well,"—her eyes looked thoughtful—"I think maybe for the time. But I ain't raisin' no rodents." She rubbed her hands together. "Now, the train . . . is MOVIN'!"