Disclaimer: YES! They have done it! They showed Typhlosion! Hallelujah! I
don't care if his voice was messed up, or if he was on-screen for a grand
total of 25 seconds, because THEY SHOWED TYPHLOSION!!! (PS – I don't own
Pokémon.)
SC: I'm back! Finally! Sorry about the long wait, but this past month has been hectic. My excuse this time is... GIRL SCOUT COOKIES! They're a pain to sell. (Taste great, though.)
This is the chapter in which we get a taste of Kris's past. Also, we hear an interesting idea from Wattson... heh, but I won't give it away. Pay attention!
Also, a random poll I've decided to make: Whose side are you on? Are you rooting for the Zangeese? Or are you in allegiance with the high and almighty Sevipers? (Guess which side I'm on. ^__^) Answer honestly in your review, and I'll post the results in the next chapter.
I've nothing more to say, so let's get on with the show! ^__~
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kris stood balanced on the very last stair. His neck was craning over to one side, trying to catch a glimpse of his parents in the kitchen. Pam was busying herself with the dishes in the sink, and Ed was leafing through the _Mauville Morning News_ with interest. Ziggy's hot breath blew onto Kris's leg, warming the jeans that he wore. Kris had been formulating a plan, and mentally he ran through it again and again.
He could see it all in his mind's eye: first he would sneak into the living room and get up against a wall so his parents couldn't see his back. Then he would call them into the room and ask them to talk. Once they were seated on the couch, he would launch into a speech about everything that had happened, and hope for the best. It wasn't much of a plan, but at least it _was_ a plan.
Swallowing hard, Kris leapt from the stair in an attempt to cover more ground quickly; however, he misjudged the distance and landed face down in the middle of the living room. Realizing that his back was exposed to the open air, the boy flipped over as fast as he could, resulting in him clunking his head on the nearest table leg. He let out a yelp of pain before he could stop himself.
"Honey, are you alright?" His mom had heard the noise and was peering through the doorway to see what was the matter.
"I'm fine!" he piped in reply. Kris stood up quickly, brushed himself off, and leaned back against the wall as casually as he could with a throbbing head. "A-actually," he added once he had set himself up, "there is something I need to talk to you about."
This got his mother's attention. Although Kris loved his mom and dad very much, he almost never talked to them, at least not like this. So it was a bit surprising to Pam to hear her son ask for time to converse. "What is it? Something serious?"
"N-no," Kris stammered, pressing his back even harder against the wall, causing the ridge of bone to painfully drive itself into his skin. "It's s- something about school."
"Well, come in here and tell us," Ed replied, not looking up from his newspaper.
Mentally, Kris gave an exasperated sigh. Parents could be so difficult sometimes. Feeling a little bit less nervous, he said in a more normal tone of voice, "No, I think you should come in here." He paused, then added, "Please come in here. Both of you."
Ed looked up from his paper and caught a worried glance from Pam. What could be troubling their son this much? Pam moved her eyes in the direction of the living room, and Ed sighed, folding his paper and emitting a soft groan as he stood from his chair. He entered the white-walled room behind his wife, and followed her suit as she sat on the wide green couch facing Kris.
"So?" he asked once the two of them were seated comfortably. "What is it that you need to tell us?"
Kris just stood there for a moment, thinking of where he should begin this zany tale. Ziggy nudged his leg in an encouraging way, making Kris swallow the feeling of butterflies deeper into his stomach and open his mouth.
"Today – at school, that is – there was this kid." _Well, at least it's a start_, thought Kris. Pam raised an eyebrow in a "Go on" sort of way, and Kris gulped again. "I...he was bothering me in the hall, so at my first chance I ran from him."
"How was he bothering you?" Ed asked suspiciously.
"Uh, well... he was sorta' punching my face out and making me give him my money." Might as well be honest.
"Oh honey, that's awful!" Pam cried in an 'oh-no-you're-hurt' voice. She stood up and made for Kris, aiming to examine him for signs of injury.
"No!" Kris exclaimed, holding his arms out in front of him to prevent her advancement. "I mean..." he trailed off, "just sit back down, okay? I'm not done with my story." Pam looked at him hard, but he looked back harder with a pleading gaze, and she sat back down quietly.
"Okay, so I managed to get away from this kid before he could hurt me too badly and steal my money. But you see, that kid apparently doesn't like it when he loses. So, after school I'm walking home and he ambushes me!" Kris waved his hands in the air as he said the last part, adding to the intensity of his words.
"Oh, no!" Pam cried, and she was about to get up again, but Ed threw his arm across her lap, restraining her much like a seatbelt would.
"What happened next?" Ed inquired, for he could tell that there was more – and that it was the most important part of the ordeal.
"Next, well..." Kris lingered on the words, looked to Ziggy for help in wording his thoughts, and upon finding that no help would be coming from his Pokémon friend, he turned back to his parents. They looked at him in earnest, and it took several moments before he spoke.
And he spent the next five minutes explaining everything that had happened in complete detail. He found that, once he started talking, it was easy to keep going without feeling awkward. Kris ended his speech with a turn to show his back to the "audience," allowing them to see the ridge of the folded wings and the wings themselves once he spread them apart. Pam gasped, and Ed opened his mouth in surprise.
"So that's it." Kris finished, turning back around to face his astonished parents.
"I... I... I don't know what to say," Pam said at barely above a whisper.
"I do," Ed announced, crossing his arms and nodding. He leaned over and whispered something hurriedly to Pam, whose eyes grew wide, then narrowed again as though in thought. Then she too nodded, and Ed unfolded his arms and leaned forward in his seat.
"You see, son," he began coolly. "We know this may come as a shock to you, but..." Ed looked the boy in the eyes, "you're adopted."
Kris gaped, yet he hid his shock by covering with questions. "So there are others out there like me who are walking around like freaks? Why didn't you tell me? Who're my real parents?"
Ed sighed. "I can answer two of those questions at once: we don't know. You didn't come to us by means of an adoption agency or anything like that, otherwise we'd have told you sooner."
"The truth is," Pam interjected, taking her turn in the explanation, "we found a Pokémon egg in the mountains one day. Another Pokémon ate the others it was with, but I saved the last one, and your dad let me keep it until it hatched. We were going to give it to Wattson when it did hatch, but..."
"But what?" Kris leaned forward, eager to find out what happened; yet somehow dreading the answer he might find.
"... But _you_ hatched from that egg. We couldn't believe it: a human child born from an egg! But, we decided to keep you, and we never told you because we never quite understood it ourselves."
Kris stared at them, aghast. He was in shock. He was born from a _Pokémon_ egg?! "So what does that make me? A Pokémon?!"
Ed shook his head. "We don't know. We told Wattson what had happened right away, and he offered to have the gym's scientist do a DNA test to see if you had any Pokémon DNA in you at all."
"And?"
"And, they didn't know quite what to think. The DNA they got was clearly Pokémon DNA, but there was human DNA in it, too. From what I remember, they described it like the human part had been added in later, sort of like deciding to add chocolate to a recipe halfway through baking it."
"So, what Pokémon species was it?" Kris asked.
"Well... they don't know. It was DNA unlike any they had ever seen before. It didn't match any of the on-file species, but they did find a close resemblance." Ed closed his eyes, straining his brain to remember what the scientist had said. "It was closest to Seviper DNA, if I'm not mistaken."
Kris thought back to the course on Pokémon that he had been required to take in sixth grade. He remembered the teacher talking about all of the Pokémon that lived in and around their city, as well as in neighboring cities like Lavaridge and Fallarbor. Kris recalled looking at pictures and seeing one of a black snake Pokémon, with curved red fangs and a wicked tail. Then he turned his head and eyed the blue wings on his back.
"Um, Seviper?" he echoed. "Are you sure? They're black, aren't they? Not blue? And, I'm pretty sure they don't have any appendages at all, much less wings."
"You're right," Pam agreed. "But remember, your father said that your DNA was only _closest_ to a Seviper's, not identical to it."
"So what am I, some kind of mutant Poké-human?" After hearing all of this, Kris wouldn't put anything past the abnormal.
Ed and Pam looked at each other, then Pam answered, "We told you, we don't know how it all works." She crossed the room and wrapped her arm around Kris's shoulders. "But, we love you, no matter what happens, and no matter how... different you may be. Your father feels the same way."
Ed nodded, and he joined in their embrace, so that all three Drakes were standing in the middle of the room, hugging one another, except Kris, who was simply receiving them. Had this been another situation, Kris would be laughing his lungs out at the scene. But today, he remained silent, blinking constantly to keep back the welling feeling of tears behind his golden eyes.
"Okay, okay, enough hugging!" he said after a minute, pulling back from the group. Kris hoped his parents hadn't heard the sniffling sound he made. "We need to find out how or why I got these," he jerked a thumb at his wings, "how I can get rid of them, and what I'm supposed to do at school until they're gone."
Pam was going to say something drastic, like suggesting a specialist doctor, but Ed interrupted her. "School is out of the question. You said Jeremy ran away practically screaming? Then he'll have told anyone who'll listen about what happened. It's not safe." Kris had forgotten all about Jeremy, and he mentally thanked is father for remembering. "If anyone finds out about this, there would be news reporters and scientists in here who'd want to take him away and study him.
"I suggest that he stays here at home. I can tell Wattson about the situation in secret if I must, but I say we just wait it out." Pam looked at him, confused. "We wait for a week or so. Let's just see if this whole thing will go away or not. If it doesn't, then we go to Wattson. Agreed?"
The others nodded their heads in agreement. Kris hoped that these blasted wings _would_ go away, but something in the back of his mind made him doubt it.
~*~*~
The week Kris got off from school wasn't a very productive one. He spent the time when his mother and father were at work lounging around the house or outside it, often taking naps right along side Ziggy. Today, however, he grew bored of four days of sleeping, and decided to try something new.
Kris had been sitting on the limb of an oak tree, staring off into space, when a flock of flying Pidgey caught his eye. He admired how easily they cut through the air, as a hot knife goes through butter. Watching their wings beat in a continuous motion, he realized that his own wings were moving, up and down, if only slightly. He looked back at the Pidgey again, and then smiled a daredevil smile. He was going to try to fly.
It always looked so easy, whether in the movies or on TV, but in reality flight was a difficult thing. Ever more so for Kris, whose wings were built differently from most of the Flying-types. They lacked a joint, except where the bones met his spine, so that the wings didn't move as a Pidgey's did. He had to learn how to move his wings forward and back, rather than up and down, otherwise he would have created no lift.
((My interruption: Okay, I'm going to attempt to illustrate the above.
A bird's wings go like this: /^ ^\ The "^" symbol indicates the joint.
Kris's wings go like this: / \
When his wings are open, they look like this: \ /
Open, \ /, closed, / \, open, \ /, closed, / \.
Did that help? I want things to be clear. ^__^;;))
Once he had trained his wings to move in the desired directions, Kris looked down. It was about ten feet to the ground from the branch he was on. Surely he could at least _glide_ down, right? Kris thought it to be logically reasonable; thus, he stretched his wings as far as they would go, angled them so the skin's surface area was parallel to the ground, and jumped.
Kris had thought his wings would act like hang gliders, or at least parachutes. However they did neither, bending back against the wind's uplift, and did not aid in slowing Kris's fall in the least. He landed flat on his stomach in the dirt, the wind knocked out of him. Kris wrenched his nose free from the soil, spitting out a rock in the process. Behind him he could hear the sound of wheezing laughter.
"Shut up, Ziggy," Kris growled. Ziggy stopped laughing, though his body shook from the chuckles he held back. Rather than getting annoyed at his Pokémon, Kris grinned ear to ear. He scooted over to the Linoone and ran one hand down its back. "Was I really that bad?" he asked it, still grinning.
Ziggy barked and yipped, describing the scene perfectly in Pokémon language, but Kris could only understand part of it. He didn't know what the sounds translated to, be he could get the gist of what was being said by listening to tone of voice. That is, until...
"Barrk, yi-bark, and then you were lying in the dirt! Your expression was priceless! I'd pay my food bowl to see that again!" Ziggy's barks slid to being words, actual sentences that Kris could understand! His heart skipped a beat. How? How in the world... ?
"Ziggy!" Kris exclaimed, interrupting the Pokémon's latest thought. "You just... I can hear what you're saying!"
"Well, yeah, you _heard_ me, but you can't _understand_ me. You can't understand Pokémon language!" the Linoone said, shrugging off Kris's statement.
"Yes I can!" Kris answered, startling the Linoone. "I just did! You said that I couldn't understand your words, only hear them..." he trailed off.
"If what you say is true," Ziggy challenged, "then repeat the sentence I'm about to say. 'Seakings are red, Lotads are blue. If you hear me say this, then you're insane too!'"
"I guess I'm insane, then," Kris replied with a grin. Ziggy gaped at him. "But I don't get it: how can I tell what you're saying? I thought humans couldn't understand Poké-speech."
"I'm not sure," Ziggy answered, looking at the ground. "Normally they can't." Kris noted the way Ziggy's voice sounded, as though he was speaking to his grandfather of sorts. He spoke with the wisdom of many years. "Maybe," Ziggy went on, "this has something to do with your wings?"
"How so?" wondered Kris.
"Perhaps the acquisition of those wings was no mere coincidence. What if it is something of a transformation? And what if there is more to come?" The Linoone's words echoed around in Kris's mind. More to come... the thought of things getting any worse made him shudder.
"Are you saying... that rather than me being able to understand you, I'm speaking the same language as you?" Kris asked with a sinking feeling.
Ziggy nodded. "I think so. Normally," he began, "human speech sounds muffled to us Pokémon, like the one talking has a pillow over his or her mouth. But you, I've noticed, sound a lot clearer and sharper now than you did a few minutes ago."
Kris paused for a minute to soak up Ziggy's words. "Great," he muttered. "Just great." Ziggy looked at him reassuringly, but Kris was to busy looking at the ground to notice Ziggy's sympathy, or even his mom coming up behind him.
"Don't feel so bad, Kris," Ziggy comforted, not noticing Pam approach either. "At least now you have a valuable skill! One who could speak Pokémon would surely get paid a lot!"
Aw, look, thought Pam as she peered over the hedge and spotted the pair. Ziggy's rubbing his nose against Kris. I should take a picture. Pam was thinking about how cute this scene would be on a Christmas card, when she heard a strange noise. It sounded like various hissing sounds with ever- changing intonations. She looked around for the source, and upon looking down she saw her son's mouth moving in a reply to Ziggy's prodding nose.
Except the hissing noises were his words.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, bringing a hand to her forehead. "Oh dear God!"
"Mom?" Kris asked, surprised. He whirled around and saw her swaying around, looking faint.
"Mom, what's wrong?" Pam saw her son's mouth say, but she heard the hissing noise again, and then all was black.
~*~*~
"Mom! Mom!" a far off voice called.
Pam opened her eyes and saw Kris leaning over her, behind which stood Ed, looking very concerned. "Kris? Honey, I could have sworn that I heard you..."
"...Speaking Pokémon language?" Ed finished, gaining Pam's attention and a dropped jaw. "I heard it, too. He called me to tell me what happened, and after he hung up it took me a minute to realize that I hadn't understood any of what he had said. But I could tell it was bad by the tone, and I came home as quickly as possible."
"So is he stuck talking like... that?" Pam asked, dreading the answer.
Kris responded. "No," he said in normal speech, "but ssssss-some of it is- ssssss sssss-still in Pokémon-ssss." Pam let out a somewhat relieved sigh; having a son who could only speak half English was better than one who spoke none at all.
Pam then voiced what was on everyone's mind. "So now what do we do?"
"Surrah vee go to sssssee ssssssss," were the jumbled words and hisses that came from Kris's mouth.
"Come again?"
"Vee go to ssssss-see Wattsssssson," Kris managed to string together legibly.
"Wattson," Ed restated. "It's simple. We go to see Wattson. He's been a Pokémon trainer all his life; surely he would know something, right? In all his years an event like this _must_ have happened before, and even if it hasn't, he has the resources to help us out."
Pam nodded. "I suppose it's worth a try."
~*~*~
And so, the Drakes managed to sneak across town, with Kris wearing his father's brown trench coat to hide his wings. Even with all their secrecy, they still got some odd looks from people who were wondering why that boy's coat drug two feet behind him. Finally, after dodging many a confused stare, the family arrived at the doors to the gym.
"It's a good thing I work here," said Ed once the door closed behind them and they were inside. "Normally the gym is closed to the public after this hour, but have a key. I also know where Wattson stays after hours." He grinned and led the way. Pam and Kris followed him until they were on the gym floor, complete with chalk outlines. Wattson was seated in a corner, polishing a sleeping Magnamite and concentrating very hard. Ed made a short coughing noise, startling the old man. Wattson turned his head and laughed when he saw the three standing there.
"Ah, the Drake family, I presume," he said, standing up. "Wa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha- ha! What brings you here?"
"It's something concerning our son," Ed explained, with a very serious tone.
"Ah," Wattson noted. He turned and beamed at Kris, his aged face stretching to its fullest. "What seems to be the trouble, sonny?"
"Vi'm ssssss-peaking in Pokémon-sssssss," Kris answered.
Wattson jumped back. "Whoa, Nelly! That is a problem! Do step into my office!" He led the group through the nearest door, down a hallway, and into another room where he sat at an oak desk. For once, his face lacked the usual smile and held only a grim face. "Please explain what happened. What has caused this abnormality in your son's speech?"
Kris opened his mouth to speak, when Ed cut in. "I think it's best if I told the story, because you... Well, you know." Kris nodded, and Ed launched into the speech that the three Drakes had already heard several times, beginning with what Kris had done at school and ending with the events in the garden. Silently, Kris sat, watching mixed emotions flow across the elderly gym leader's face. Once he was asked to stand and demonstrate his wings to the gym leader. Wattson had nodded curtly and motioned for Ed to carry on. Ed had just made it to the end when Wattson stood suddenly.
"Perhaps..." he murmured. "This may be related to..."
"What? What?" Pam cried, eager to hear more, eager to hear if Wattson knew what was wrong with Kris and if a cure existed.
"I have heard tales since I was a lad. I'm afraid I don't remember all the details, but something in my heart tells me that your situation is related to those tales."
Ed leaned forward in his chair. "What should we do?"
Wattson chortled. "YOU don't do anything. KRIS must go to Fallarbor Town."
"Huh? Why should he go there?" Pam demanded, on the edge of her seat. Kris rolled his eyes. Overprotective again.
"Because that is where the tale I heard originated. Perhaps some of the locals would know more about it."
Ed was about to say something about him not thinking this was a good idea, when Pam slammed her hand down onto the desk. "He's not going! He shouldn't have to! We'll go for him, or with him, but he won't go by himself!"
Wattson put up his hands defensively. "Now, now, Miss Drake, I disagree. I merely want to help Kris as much as you yourself do. This is, however, a major event in Kris's life and he should handle it by himself."
"By himself?" she challenged. "He's never left the city! Not to mention his newly acquired speech problem! How is he to get 'help from the locals' if he can't even communicate with them?!"
Kris watched Wattson and his mother argue back and forth. It made him mad inside to hear them speak of him as though he wasn't in the room. So mad, in fact, that he interrupted their fight. He rose to his feet so fast that his chair was knocked over with a clatter, silencing the two adults effectively.
"Stop it!" Kris hollered at the two, his voice now miraculously devoid of all hissing. "Why don't you let me decide whether I go or not? It's my trip anyway!"
Pam turned and stared. "But honey..."
"No buts Mom! I'm fifteen years old for crying out loud!" he snapped.
Ed and Pam glanced at each other; Ed looked sternly at Pam, who swallowed. "Alright, if that's what you want... You can decide if you want to go, or..."
"I'm going," Kris said instantly.
Wattson smiled at Kris's decision. "Mister and Misses Drake, if I may speak to your son alone for a minute? There are some things I'd like to tell him before he goes."
"Sure," Ed said before Pam could refuse the request, and he steered her out of the room. The door closed softly behind them.
"Kris, there's something I must tell you," Wattson said, looking very serious. Kris blinked, then nodded. "One of my ex-Junior Trainers had a Zangoose."
A blank, golden-eyed stare. "So what?" asked Kris.
"Well, I have several Magnamite that roam the gym, right? One of them overheard the Zangoose talking, and it came and told me what it had heard."
Kris huffed. He'd had enough of "people understanding Pokémon" for one day, but Wattson went on before Kris could express his annoyance. "You've heard of the rivalry between the Zangeese and the Sevipers? Well, this Zangoose had apparently hacked into a radio and was communicating with its fellows. It declared an immediate attack on the Sevipers."
Another stare followed by an exasperated sigh. "So?"
"So, I sent a Magnamite out to gather info from wild Pokémon near Fallarbor. It found that the Sevipers were trying to increase their numbers and create stronger fighters by breeding with other Pokémon. Remember the DNA test we did? Your DNA doesn't match anything, but it's closest to a Seviper's. There was also a small trace of another Pokémon's DNA. We aren't sure what it is, but we know it's a powerful one."
A moment's pause. Then Wattson concluded with: "I found that out sixteen years ago."
A lightning bolt of realization struck Kris hard. He was fifteen years old. "So... Does that make me a Seviper? Am I part of some 'war effort?'"
"I never said that. What I'm saying is that if you go back to where you were found, you may find your real parents. Your _Pokémon_ parents," Wattson said, and then paused. "They may be able to help you."
Kris pondered that for a moment, then his gaze swiftly locked onto Wattson's. "Hey, wait a minute. What about all that crap you said about the 'tales' and stuff?"
"Oh, that?" Wattson chuckled again. "That was just something I made up to convince your parents to let you go."
Kris blinked. "Well, uh... thanks."
"Don't mention it," Wattson said. "Especially not to your parents! If they find out they won't let you go!" The elderly man reached over his desk and patted the boy's shoulder. "Good luck to you, then! Wa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
"Right," Kris agreed. He stood, and he faced the door. Soon, he thought, I'll be on my way to being normal again. Or, at least I'll be on my way to some answers.
~*~*~
SC: *wheeze* Finally! I thought I'd never finish that! Wow, that wasn't as long as I thought it'd be. Oh well! I can just spend the room down here clarifying a few things. First off, does Kris really seem that un-human to y'all? I'm trying to write him as a human who's just... got some problems. No actually, he _isn't_ human, but it's not a major element in the story right now.
The thing I can compare Kris the closest to is Cody from the Disney Channel movie "The Thirteenth Year." That is my favorite original movie! If you get a chance, watch it and you'll see what I'm talking about.
Next, is my work _really_ that descriptive? I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I'm just saying that you readers are complimenting me so much it's surreal. This is the fic that I put the most effort into, though. I actually edit this one, which I don't do on any of the others. Maybe that's why I get complimented. ^^ If you like detailed, well-written, and non-AAMR Pokémon fics, I highly recommend "Shadows of Pokémon" by Alyssa Myuu. I swear, it's the _best_ Pokémon fic I've ever seen. No trainers, excellent plot... and original personalities on Pokémon you thought you knew. It's great; go read it now. I command thee!
SC: All right! Enough! I've ranted for too long! I don't want to hold you up! Please leave a nice review, and I'll get to work on the next chappy! Don't forget about the poll when you review! 'Till next time, I bid thee farewell.
SC: I'm back! Finally! Sorry about the long wait, but this past month has been hectic. My excuse this time is... GIRL SCOUT COOKIES! They're a pain to sell. (Taste great, though.)
This is the chapter in which we get a taste of Kris's past. Also, we hear an interesting idea from Wattson... heh, but I won't give it away. Pay attention!
Also, a random poll I've decided to make: Whose side are you on? Are you rooting for the Zangeese? Or are you in allegiance with the high and almighty Sevipers? (Guess which side I'm on. ^__^) Answer honestly in your review, and I'll post the results in the next chapter.
I've nothing more to say, so let's get on with the show! ^__~
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kris stood balanced on the very last stair. His neck was craning over to one side, trying to catch a glimpse of his parents in the kitchen. Pam was busying herself with the dishes in the sink, and Ed was leafing through the _Mauville Morning News_ with interest. Ziggy's hot breath blew onto Kris's leg, warming the jeans that he wore. Kris had been formulating a plan, and mentally he ran through it again and again.
He could see it all in his mind's eye: first he would sneak into the living room and get up against a wall so his parents couldn't see his back. Then he would call them into the room and ask them to talk. Once they were seated on the couch, he would launch into a speech about everything that had happened, and hope for the best. It wasn't much of a plan, but at least it _was_ a plan.
Swallowing hard, Kris leapt from the stair in an attempt to cover more ground quickly; however, he misjudged the distance and landed face down in the middle of the living room. Realizing that his back was exposed to the open air, the boy flipped over as fast as he could, resulting in him clunking his head on the nearest table leg. He let out a yelp of pain before he could stop himself.
"Honey, are you alright?" His mom had heard the noise and was peering through the doorway to see what was the matter.
"I'm fine!" he piped in reply. Kris stood up quickly, brushed himself off, and leaned back against the wall as casually as he could with a throbbing head. "A-actually," he added once he had set himself up, "there is something I need to talk to you about."
This got his mother's attention. Although Kris loved his mom and dad very much, he almost never talked to them, at least not like this. So it was a bit surprising to Pam to hear her son ask for time to converse. "What is it? Something serious?"
"N-no," Kris stammered, pressing his back even harder against the wall, causing the ridge of bone to painfully drive itself into his skin. "It's s- something about school."
"Well, come in here and tell us," Ed replied, not looking up from his newspaper.
Mentally, Kris gave an exasperated sigh. Parents could be so difficult sometimes. Feeling a little bit less nervous, he said in a more normal tone of voice, "No, I think you should come in here." He paused, then added, "Please come in here. Both of you."
Ed looked up from his paper and caught a worried glance from Pam. What could be troubling their son this much? Pam moved her eyes in the direction of the living room, and Ed sighed, folding his paper and emitting a soft groan as he stood from his chair. He entered the white-walled room behind his wife, and followed her suit as she sat on the wide green couch facing Kris.
"So?" he asked once the two of them were seated comfortably. "What is it that you need to tell us?"
Kris just stood there for a moment, thinking of where he should begin this zany tale. Ziggy nudged his leg in an encouraging way, making Kris swallow the feeling of butterflies deeper into his stomach and open his mouth.
"Today – at school, that is – there was this kid." _Well, at least it's a start_, thought Kris. Pam raised an eyebrow in a "Go on" sort of way, and Kris gulped again. "I...he was bothering me in the hall, so at my first chance I ran from him."
"How was he bothering you?" Ed asked suspiciously.
"Uh, well... he was sorta' punching my face out and making me give him my money." Might as well be honest.
"Oh honey, that's awful!" Pam cried in an 'oh-no-you're-hurt' voice. She stood up and made for Kris, aiming to examine him for signs of injury.
"No!" Kris exclaimed, holding his arms out in front of him to prevent her advancement. "I mean..." he trailed off, "just sit back down, okay? I'm not done with my story." Pam looked at him hard, but he looked back harder with a pleading gaze, and she sat back down quietly.
"Okay, so I managed to get away from this kid before he could hurt me too badly and steal my money. But you see, that kid apparently doesn't like it when he loses. So, after school I'm walking home and he ambushes me!" Kris waved his hands in the air as he said the last part, adding to the intensity of his words.
"Oh, no!" Pam cried, and she was about to get up again, but Ed threw his arm across her lap, restraining her much like a seatbelt would.
"What happened next?" Ed inquired, for he could tell that there was more – and that it was the most important part of the ordeal.
"Next, well..." Kris lingered on the words, looked to Ziggy for help in wording his thoughts, and upon finding that no help would be coming from his Pokémon friend, he turned back to his parents. They looked at him in earnest, and it took several moments before he spoke.
And he spent the next five minutes explaining everything that had happened in complete detail. He found that, once he started talking, it was easy to keep going without feeling awkward. Kris ended his speech with a turn to show his back to the "audience," allowing them to see the ridge of the folded wings and the wings themselves once he spread them apart. Pam gasped, and Ed opened his mouth in surprise.
"So that's it." Kris finished, turning back around to face his astonished parents.
"I... I... I don't know what to say," Pam said at barely above a whisper.
"I do," Ed announced, crossing his arms and nodding. He leaned over and whispered something hurriedly to Pam, whose eyes grew wide, then narrowed again as though in thought. Then she too nodded, and Ed unfolded his arms and leaned forward in his seat.
"You see, son," he began coolly. "We know this may come as a shock to you, but..." Ed looked the boy in the eyes, "you're adopted."
Kris gaped, yet he hid his shock by covering with questions. "So there are others out there like me who are walking around like freaks? Why didn't you tell me? Who're my real parents?"
Ed sighed. "I can answer two of those questions at once: we don't know. You didn't come to us by means of an adoption agency or anything like that, otherwise we'd have told you sooner."
"The truth is," Pam interjected, taking her turn in the explanation, "we found a Pokémon egg in the mountains one day. Another Pokémon ate the others it was with, but I saved the last one, and your dad let me keep it until it hatched. We were going to give it to Wattson when it did hatch, but..."
"But what?" Kris leaned forward, eager to find out what happened; yet somehow dreading the answer he might find.
"... But _you_ hatched from that egg. We couldn't believe it: a human child born from an egg! But, we decided to keep you, and we never told you because we never quite understood it ourselves."
Kris stared at them, aghast. He was in shock. He was born from a _Pokémon_ egg?! "So what does that make me? A Pokémon?!"
Ed shook his head. "We don't know. We told Wattson what had happened right away, and he offered to have the gym's scientist do a DNA test to see if you had any Pokémon DNA in you at all."
"And?"
"And, they didn't know quite what to think. The DNA they got was clearly Pokémon DNA, but there was human DNA in it, too. From what I remember, they described it like the human part had been added in later, sort of like deciding to add chocolate to a recipe halfway through baking it."
"So, what Pokémon species was it?" Kris asked.
"Well... they don't know. It was DNA unlike any they had ever seen before. It didn't match any of the on-file species, but they did find a close resemblance." Ed closed his eyes, straining his brain to remember what the scientist had said. "It was closest to Seviper DNA, if I'm not mistaken."
Kris thought back to the course on Pokémon that he had been required to take in sixth grade. He remembered the teacher talking about all of the Pokémon that lived in and around their city, as well as in neighboring cities like Lavaridge and Fallarbor. Kris recalled looking at pictures and seeing one of a black snake Pokémon, with curved red fangs and a wicked tail. Then he turned his head and eyed the blue wings on his back.
"Um, Seviper?" he echoed. "Are you sure? They're black, aren't they? Not blue? And, I'm pretty sure they don't have any appendages at all, much less wings."
"You're right," Pam agreed. "But remember, your father said that your DNA was only _closest_ to a Seviper's, not identical to it."
"So what am I, some kind of mutant Poké-human?" After hearing all of this, Kris wouldn't put anything past the abnormal.
Ed and Pam looked at each other, then Pam answered, "We told you, we don't know how it all works." She crossed the room and wrapped her arm around Kris's shoulders. "But, we love you, no matter what happens, and no matter how... different you may be. Your father feels the same way."
Ed nodded, and he joined in their embrace, so that all three Drakes were standing in the middle of the room, hugging one another, except Kris, who was simply receiving them. Had this been another situation, Kris would be laughing his lungs out at the scene. But today, he remained silent, blinking constantly to keep back the welling feeling of tears behind his golden eyes.
"Okay, okay, enough hugging!" he said after a minute, pulling back from the group. Kris hoped his parents hadn't heard the sniffling sound he made. "We need to find out how or why I got these," he jerked a thumb at his wings, "how I can get rid of them, and what I'm supposed to do at school until they're gone."
Pam was going to say something drastic, like suggesting a specialist doctor, but Ed interrupted her. "School is out of the question. You said Jeremy ran away practically screaming? Then he'll have told anyone who'll listen about what happened. It's not safe." Kris had forgotten all about Jeremy, and he mentally thanked is father for remembering. "If anyone finds out about this, there would be news reporters and scientists in here who'd want to take him away and study him.
"I suggest that he stays here at home. I can tell Wattson about the situation in secret if I must, but I say we just wait it out." Pam looked at him, confused. "We wait for a week or so. Let's just see if this whole thing will go away or not. If it doesn't, then we go to Wattson. Agreed?"
The others nodded their heads in agreement. Kris hoped that these blasted wings _would_ go away, but something in the back of his mind made him doubt it.
~*~*~
The week Kris got off from school wasn't a very productive one. He spent the time when his mother and father were at work lounging around the house or outside it, often taking naps right along side Ziggy. Today, however, he grew bored of four days of sleeping, and decided to try something new.
Kris had been sitting on the limb of an oak tree, staring off into space, when a flock of flying Pidgey caught his eye. He admired how easily they cut through the air, as a hot knife goes through butter. Watching their wings beat in a continuous motion, he realized that his own wings were moving, up and down, if only slightly. He looked back at the Pidgey again, and then smiled a daredevil smile. He was going to try to fly.
It always looked so easy, whether in the movies or on TV, but in reality flight was a difficult thing. Ever more so for Kris, whose wings were built differently from most of the Flying-types. They lacked a joint, except where the bones met his spine, so that the wings didn't move as a Pidgey's did. He had to learn how to move his wings forward and back, rather than up and down, otherwise he would have created no lift.
((My interruption: Okay, I'm going to attempt to illustrate the above.
A bird's wings go like this: /^ ^\ The "^" symbol indicates the joint.
Kris's wings go like this: / \
When his wings are open, they look like this: \ /
Open, \ /, closed, / \, open, \ /, closed, / \.
Did that help? I want things to be clear. ^__^;;))
Once he had trained his wings to move in the desired directions, Kris looked down. It was about ten feet to the ground from the branch he was on. Surely he could at least _glide_ down, right? Kris thought it to be logically reasonable; thus, he stretched his wings as far as they would go, angled them so the skin's surface area was parallel to the ground, and jumped.
Kris had thought his wings would act like hang gliders, or at least parachutes. However they did neither, bending back against the wind's uplift, and did not aid in slowing Kris's fall in the least. He landed flat on his stomach in the dirt, the wind knocked out of him. Kris wrenched his nose free from the soil, spitting out a rock in the process. Behind him he could hear the sound of wheezing laughter.
"Shut up, Ziggy," Kris growled. Ziggy stopped laughing, though his body shook from the chuckles he held back. Rather than getting annoyed at his Pokémon, Kris grinned ear to ear. He scooted over to the Linoone and ran one hand down its back. "Was I really that bad?" he asked it, still grinning.
Ziggy barked and yipped, describing the scene perfectly in Pokémon language, but Kris could only understand part of it. He didn't know what the sounds translated to, be he could get the gist of what was being said by listening to tone of voice. That is, until...
"Barrk, yi-bark, and then you were lying in the dirt! Your expression was priceless! I'd pay my food bowl to see that again!" Ziggy's barks slid to being words, actual sentences that Kris could understand! His heart skipped a beat. How? How in the world... ?
"Ziggy!" Kris exclaimed, interrupting the Pokémon's latest thought. "You just... I can hear what you're saying!"
"Well, yeah, you _heard_ me, but you can't _understand_ me. You can't understand Pokémon language!" the Linoone said, shrugging off Kris's statement.
"Yes I can!" Kris answered, startling the Linoone. "I just did! You said that I couldn't understand your words, only hear them..." he trailed off.
"If what you say is true," Ziggy challenged, "then repeat the sentence I'm about to say. 'Seakings are red, Lotads are blue. If you hear me say this, then you're insane too!'"
"I guess I'm insane, then," Kris replied with a grin. Ziggy gaped at him. "But I don't get it: how can I tell what you're saying? I thought humans couldn't understand Poké-speech."
"I'm not sure," Ziggy answered, looking at the ground. "Normally they can't." Kris noted the way Ziggy's voice sounded, as though he was speaking to his grandfather of sorts. He spoke with the wisdom of many years. "Maybe," Ziggy went on, "this has something to do with your wings?"
"How so?" wondered Kris.
"Perhaps the acquisition of those wings was no mere coincidence. What if it is something of a transformation? And what if there is more to come?" The Linoone's words echoed around in Kris's mind. More to come... the thought of things getting any worse made him shudder.
"Are you saying... that rather than me being able to understand you, I'm speaking the same language as you?" Kris asked with a sinking feeling.
Ziggy nodded. "I think so. Normally," he began, "human speech sounds muffled to us Pokémon, like the one talking has a pillow over his or her mouth. But you, I've noticed, sound a lot clearer and sharper now than you did a few minutes ago."
Kris paused for a minute to soak up Ziggy's words. "Great," he muttered. "Just great." Ziggy looked at him reassuringly, but Kris was to busy looking at the ground to notice Ziggy's sympathy, or even his mom coming up behind him.
"Don't feel so bad, Kris," Ziggy comforted, not noticing Pam approach either. "At least now you have a valuable skill! One who could speak Pokémon would surely get paid a lot!"
Aw, look, thought Pam as she peered over the hedge and spotted the pair. Ziggy's rubbing his nose against Kris. I should take a picture. Pam was thinking about how cute this scene would be on a Christmas card, when she heard a strange noise. It sounded like various hissing sounds with ever- changing intonations. She looked around for the source, and upon looking down she saw her son's mouth moving in a reply to Ziggy's prodding nose.
Except the hissing noises were his words.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, bringing a hand to her forehead. "Oh dear God!"
"Mom?" Kris asked, surprised. He whirled around and saw her swaying around, looking faint.
"Mom, what's wrong?" Pam saw her son's mouth say, but she heard the hissing noise again, and then all was black.
~*~*~
"Mom! Mom!" a far off voice called.
Pam opened her eyes and saw Kris leaning over her, behind which stood Ed, looking very concerned. "Kris? Honey, I could have sworn that I heard you..."
"...Speaking Pokémon language?" Ed finished, gaining Pam's attention and a dropped jaw. "I heard it, too. He called me to tell me what happened, and after he hung up it took me a minute to realize that I hadn't understood any of what he had said. But I could tell it was bad by the tone, and I came home as quickly as possible."
"So is he stuck talking like... that?" Pam asked, dreading the answer.
Kris responded. "No," he said in normal speech, "but ssssss-some of it is- ssssss sssss-still in Pokémon-ssss." Pam let out a somewhat relieved sigh; having a son who could only speak half English was better than one who spoke none at all.
Pam then voiced what was on everyone's mind. "So now what do we do?"
"Surrah vee go to sssssee ssssssss," were the jumbled words and hisses that came from Kris's mouth.
"Come again?"
"Vee go to ssssss-see Wattsssssson," Kris managed to string together legibly.
"Wattson," Ed restated. "It's simple. We go to see Wattson. He's been a Pokémon trainer all his life; surely he would know something, right? In all his years an event like this _must_ have happened before, and even if it hasn't, he has the resources to help us out."
Pam nodded. "I suppose it's worth a try."
~*~*~
And so, the Drakes managed to sneak across town, with Kris wearing his father's brown trench coat to hide his wings. Even with all their secrecy, they still got some odd looks from people who were wondering why that boy's coat drug two feet behind him. Finally, after dodging many a confused stare, the family arrived at the doors to the gym.
"It's a good thing I work here," said Ed once the door closed behind them and they were inside. "Normally the gym is closed to the public after this hour, but have a key. I also know where Wattson stays after hours." He grinned and led the way. Pam and Kris followed him until they were on the gym floor, complete with chalk outlines. Wattson was seated in a corner, polishing a sleeping Magnamite and concentrating very hard. Ed made a short coughing noise, startling the old man. Wattson turned his head and laughed when he saw the three standing there.
"Ah, the Drake family, I presume," he said, standing up. "Wa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha- ha! What brings you here?"
"It's something concerning our son," Ed explained, with a very serious tone.
"Ah," Wattson noted. He turned and beamed at Kris, his aged face stretching to its fullest. "What seems to be the trouble, sonny?"
"Vi'm ssssss-peaking in Pokémon-sssssss," Kris answered.
Wattson jumped back. "Whoa, Nelly! That is a problem! Do step into my office!" He led the group through the nearest door, down a hallway, and into another room where he sat at an oak desk. For once, his face lacked the usual smile and held only a grim face. "Please explain what happened. What has caused this abnormality in your son's speech?"
Kris opened his mouth to speak, when Ed cut in. "I think it's best if I told the story, because you... Well, you know." Kris nodded, and Ed launched into the speech that the three Drakes had already heard several times, beginning with what Kris had done at school and ending with the events in the garden. Silently, Kris sat, watching mixed emotions flow across the elderly gym leader's face. Once he was asked to stand and demonstrate his wings to the gym leader. Wattson had nodded curtly and motioned for Ed to carry on. Ed had just made it to the end when Wattson stood suddenly.
"Perhaps..." he murmured. "This may be related to..."
"What? What?" Pam cried, eager to hear more, eager to hear if Wattson knew what was wrong with Kris and if a cure existed.
"I have heard tales since I was a lad. I'm afraid I don't remember all the details, but something in my heart tells me that your situation is related to those tales."
Ed leaned forward in his chair. "What should we do?"
Wattson chortled. "YOU don't do anything. KRIS must go to Fallarbor Town."
"Huh? Why should he go there?" Pam demanded, on the edge of her seat. Kris rolled his eyes. Overprotective again.
"Because that is where the tale I heard originated. Perhaps some of the locals would know more about it."
Ed was about to say something about him not thinking this was a good idea, when Pam slammed her hand down onto the desk. "He's not going! He shouldn't have to! We'll go for him, or with him, but he won't go by himself!"
Wattson put up his hands defensively. "Now, now, Miss Drake, I disagree. I merely want to help Kris as much as you yourself do. This is, however, a major event in Kris's life and he should handle it by himself."
"By himself?" she challenged. "He's never left the city! Not to mention his newly acquired speech problem! How is he to get 'help from the locals' if he can't even communicate with them?!"
Kris watched Wattson and his mother argue back and forth. It made him mad inside to hear them speak of him as though he wasn't in the room. So mad, in fact, that he interrupted their fight. He rose to his feet so fast that his chair was knocked over with a clatter, silencing the two adults effectively.
"Stop it!" Kris hollered at the two, his voice now miraculously devoid of all hissing. "Why don't you let me decide whether I go or not? It's my trip anyway!"
Pam turned and stared. "But honey..."
"No buts Mom! I'm fifteen years old for crying out loud!" he snapped.
Ed and Pam glanced at each other; Ed looked sternly at Pam, who swallowed. "Alright, if that's what you want... You can decide if you want to go, or..."
"I'm going," Kris said instantly.
Wattson smiled at Kris's decision. "Mister and Misses Drake, if I may speak to your son alone for a minute? There are some things I'd like to tell him before he goes."
"Sure," Ed said before Pam could refuse the request, and he steered her out of the room. The door closed softly behind them.
"Kris, there's something I must tell you," Wattson said, looking very serious. Kris blinked, then nodded. "One of my ex-Junior Trainers had a Zangoose."
A blank, golden-eyed stare. "So what?" asked Kris.
"Well, I have several Magnamite that roam the gym, right? One of them overheard the Zangoose talking, and it came and told me what it had heard."
Kris huffed. He'd had enough of "people understanding Pokémon" for one day, but Wattson went on before Kris could express his annoyance. "You've heard of the rivalry between the Zangeese and the Sevipers? Well, this Zangoose had apparently hacked into a radio and was communicating with its fellows. It declared an immediate attack on the Sevipers."
Another stare followed by an exasperated sigh. "So?"
"So, I sent a Magnamite out to gather info from wild Pokémon near Fallarbor. It found that the Sevipers were trying to increase their numbers and create stronger fighters by breeding with other Pokémon. Remember the DNA test we did? Your DNA doesn't match anything, but it's closest to a Seviper's. There was also a small trace of another Pokémon's DNA. We aren't sure what it is, but we know it's a powerful one."
A moment's pause. Then Wattson concluded with: "I found that out sixteen years ago."
A lightning bolt of realization struck Kris hard. He was fifteen years old. "So... Does that make me a Seviper? Am I part of some 'war effort?'"
"I never said that. What I'm saying is that if you go back to where you were found, you may find your real parents. Your _Pokémon_ parents," Wattson said, and then paused. "They may be able to help you."
Kris pondered that for a moment, then his gaze swiftly locked onto Wattson's. "Hey, wait a minute. What about all that crap you said about the 'tales' and stuff?"
"Oh, that?" Wattson chuckled again. "That was just something I made up to convince your parents to let you go."
Kris blinked. "Well, uh... thanks."
"Don't mention it," Wattson said. "Especially not to your parents! If they find out they won't let you go!" The elderly man reached over his desk and patted the boy's shoulder. "Good luck to you, then! Wa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
"Right," Kris agreed. He stood, and he faced the door. Soon, he thought, I'll be on my way to being normal again. Or, at least I'll be on my way to some answers.
~*~*~
SC: *wheeze* Finally! I thought I'd never finish that! Wow, that wasn't as long as I thought it'd be. Oh well! I can just spend the room down here clarifying a few things. First off, does Kris really seem that un-human to y'all? I'm trying to write him as a human who's just... got some problems. No actually, he _isn't_ human, but it's not a major element in the story right now.
The thing I can compare Kris the closest to is Cody from the Disney Channel movie "The Thirteenth Year." That is my favorite original movie! If you get a chance, watch it and you'll see what I'm talking about.
Next, is my work _really_ that descriptive? I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I'm just saying that you readers are complimenting me so much it's surreal. This is the fic that I put the most effort into, though. I actually edit this one, which I don't do on any of the others. Maybe that's why I get complimented. ^^ If you like detailed, well-written, and non-AAMR Pokémon fics, I highly recommend "Shadows of Pokémon" by Alyssa Myuu. I swear, it's the _best_ Pokémon fic I've ever seen. No trainers, excellent plot... and original personalities on Pokémon you thought you knew. It's great; go read it now. I command thee!
SC: All right! Enough! I've ranted for too long! I don't want to hold you up! Please leave a nice review, and I'll get to work on the next chappy! Don't forget about the poll when you review! 'Till next time, I bid thee farewell.