Author's responses:
-To Melchior the Mewthree: Thank you for the compliments. Yes, as I've said before, it was my intention to create something strange, original, and non-cliché-ish for the people who feel the same way I do about stories and for the people who don't (just to show them that it's possible to create something strange, original, et cetera). Thank you for telling me that my work thus far is not in vain, and I'll try my best to keep up what I'm doing right now. ^_^
-To Tanya: Thanks again for the kind words. ^_^
-To DarkCatXX: You're welcome for everything. ^_^ (Ah, yes. Literal vacation. The fanfiction author's nightmare. Well, it is if you're me. Go on a trip and come back without a clue that you're supposed to write another chapter. ^_^;)
Anywho, thanks for the compliments on the latest chapter. I hadn't realized that it bore resemblance to Soul Caliber 2... Mainly because I hadn't played it before. Maybe I should. ^_^; (It's still cool that someone got a reference to something I hadn't even intended on referring to. =D)
As for the time thing, there's a rather simple explanation (Well, it seemed simple at the time...), and it would be this: In dreams, people really don't have a sense of time, so Bill's not aware that a long period of time had passed while he's "asleep." Besides, time is a thing defined by reality, and since Bill isn't IN reality at the moment, time has no definition. (Or something like that. I'm hoping someone out there gets what I'm trying to say. ^_^;)
Further note: A lot of the following chapter had been inspired by the last scenes of Alien Nine (Poor Kumi... ;_;) as well as the show's ending theme. (Yes, I got Alien Nine on DVD recently. Go and get it! It's good! =D) If anyone can find out where I can download a copy or where I could at least find the artist/title of the song, I'd glomp the freakin' stuffing out of you. ^_^;
And hey! I got this done in time for Christmas! Merry Christmas and happy holidays, everyone! =D
---
Night Five: An Ocean Too Deep
It only felt like a short time to him, but already, Bill felt as if his life in the real world was a dream. He was getting too used to seeing such an unusual landscape all around him, and he was getting too used to being a Meowth. It almost made life as a human seem absurd.
He leaned against the edge of the glass boat, staring forward as the boat gently moved with the waves, taking both of its occupants further and further into the unknown. Bill reached down and touched the waters with his paw as the boat climbed over a wave. It felt cool and silky, like water usually would. Was he supposed to feel it? Is that possible?
He brought his wet paw up, studying it in curiosity. Could he feel water? How is it possible that, in a world of dreams, everything seemed so real? How could he be able to feel everything except pain? Do people usually feel that in their dreams?
He closed his eyes and tried to recall another dream of his, one where he felt as if everything was real. However, nothing came to mind. His mind was as dark and bleak as the sky under which he rode.
Suddenly, something hit him in the face, then bounced over his head and landed onto the glass with a cross between a thud and a tink. Bill opened his eyes and turned around to see a silver fish (not a Magikarp, not a Goldeen, not a Feebas -- just not a Pokémon) flop around wildly on the glass bottom of the boat. Another fish, a blue one, smacked Bill in the back of the head and landed on top of the silver fish. Bill ducked as several more fish jumped into the boat and struggled to find their way back out. Some did, but most wound up lying listless on the boat's bottom, pumping their gills until they drowned in open air.
Bill stared at the pile of fish between himself and the shed, somewhat shocked that this had happened.
"What will we do with them?" Morpheus inquired from the shed.
Bill made his way around the pile. "I suppose we'll use them as food."
Morpheus looked at Bill from where he sat under the shed roof as he tilted his head.
"You can't eat in your current state," the god pointed out. "Neither can I, for that matter."
"Good point," Bill muttered as he looked back at the pile.
Just then, he saw an orange fish standing up on its tail fin. Its head was bent forward like a human head, rather than being pointed at the sky. (Why this was so is a complete mystery. Perhaps the fish just wanted to look at something other than the sky.) It looked first at the pile of fish from which it came, then around the boat, looking for something. Using its tail fin as a pair of feet, the fish wandered about the boat, wondering what was going on. Bill only stood by, intrigued by the fish and secretly hoping it would jump off the boat and swim away.
At last, the fish found what it was looking for and touched the edge of the boat with a fin. With a happy squeak, it jumped into the air and nearly touched the water...
...Just as a hand came bursting out of the dark depths and used the knife it held to skewer the fish. As the fish flailed about, struggling to escape its fate, more hands with knives erupted from the water, and, to Bill's horror, quickly cut up the fish into slices. Each slice fell onto the surface of the water and floated there before the hands all dropped their knives and collected each piece, placing them on a silver plate held by the hand whose knife skewered the fish. When not a single piece of the fish was left to float on the water, the hands sank into the waters, taking the plate of sliced fish with them.
It was then that Bill began to feel sick. With a pale face, he went to lean over the side of the boat where he vomited, violently expelling all contents (which he didn't know he had) within his stomach. When he was finished, he limply fell backwards into the boat, onto his back, nauseous with the scene that just took place as well as with the vile smell of slowly rotting fish. It was then when he wished he had the strength to throw them all overboard.
---
Bill was slumped in the shelter of the shack with a paw on his stomach. He had just shoved every fish overboard with the last of his strength before stumbling into the shade, trying not to look at the carpet of rainbow colors floating about the boat.
"Are you alright, Bill?" Morpheus asked with pure concern in his voice.
Bill sucked in a large amount of salty air and let it out slowly in an effort to calm his stomach. He curled up on his side and kept inhaling and exhaling deeply for a long while, keeping him from answering Morpheus right away.
At last, he weakly replied, "Yes. Of course."
"Are you sure?" Morpheus asked with caution.
Bill nodded feebly. "Yes."
Morpheus floated down a bit and placed a hand on Bill. "Is there something I can do to help you?"
Help. At that simple word, Bill shrugged Morpheus' hand off and struggled to stand up.
"I don't need help," Bill snapped. "I don't need anyone's help!"
Suddenly, the sky darkened to an almost pitch-black color as the boat began to pitch and as drops violently slammed into the roof of the small shelter in the middle of the boat. The pixies that formed those tiny bits of water screamed upon impact before landing into the water of the ocean, ejecting a dark liquid which was most likely like blood. Morpheus hovered in midair, watching as the Meowth slid back and forth across the glass bottom of the boat while the ocean and winds around them became angry and violent. At last, the waters sharply heaved upwards, tilting the boat back and causing the feline to slide backwards and over the edge of the glass boat.
Bill didn't know how to swim in his Meowth form. All he knew how to do was tire himself out by splashing around, trying to keep his head above water. Soon, he became exhausted, and, as he felt the last of his strength leave his tiny body, he closed his eyes and allowed the dark waters around him to swallow him.
---
"Ngh...! Hmm? Am I... dead?"
Bill opened his eyes to find himself in a dark hallway lit by fluorescent lights. Sounds of footsteps on the linoleum floor echoed off of the quiet walls.
"No... Not this place," Bill murmured to himself.
He realized that the footsteps were coming towards him, and, in an effort to hide, he scooted out of sight, through the opened door to a nearby room. Just as he did, he saw a nurse walk past, holding the hand of a familiar young boy dressed in a white, short-sleeved shirt and white pants. That boy was himself, ten years before. Curious, he followed, though he could have sworn that something seemed familiar about this.
There was complete silence until the brown-haired nurse walked the boy into a room much like a regular office with shelves of books about psychology along the walls. A large, mahogany desk covered with papers was placed straight ahead, and behind it was a brown, leather chair, turned around backwards as well as a window covered with blinds behind the chair. The Meowth slinked in behind the nurse and the boy before tucking himself in a corner of the room, behind a potted plant.
"Dr. Dogwood, I brought the three o' clock," the nurse stated.
"Good," a voice said from the chair. "Go outside and wait. When I'm done, I'll give him back to you."
The nurse nodded and walked out of the office, closing the door carefully behind her.
"Have a seat, William," the doctor said.
The boy nervously sat in one of the two black chairs in front of the desk. The large chair behind it swiveled around, allowing the boy to see the plump, balding man behind it. He looked very much like a Santa Claus without facial hair and with a doctor's coat on.
"So, the nurses have told me that we've finally gotten a breakthrough with you," Dogwood said enthusiastically. "You've only been here at Sheridan Hill for three months, and at last, you've finally said something."
Bill shuddered. Yes, it was the place he dreaded. Sheridan Hill. It was an asylum for children. He remembered it quite clearly then; after Alice's death, Bill gave up on life. For the first few weeks, he simply didn't care about school. Then, after awhile, he wouldn't sleep, and he stopped eating. He wouldn't even speak to anyone or express any emotion; he only stared off into space with a forlorn look. After about a week of this, his parents realized the danger he was putting himself into and so sent him to Sheridan Hill to try to "fix" him.
"Would you like to tell me about it, William?" Dogwood asked. "What's been on your mind lately?"
The boy groaned and shrank back into the chair.
"There's no reason to be shy!" Dogwood smiled. "I know how it feels to lose a loved one--"
"It... wasn't just that."
Dogwood tilted his perky head. "Come again?"
The boy ignored Dogwood's question. "I think I'm better now. Can I go home?"
Dogwood sighed. "Perhaps you can, William. But first, we need to discuss things."
"What's there to discuss?" For the first time in a long time, the boy's face broke into a smile. "I'm happy now! I've dealt with everything, and there's nothing wrong anymore!"
Bill closed his eyes. When he opened them, he found himself in complete darkness. All alone.
"That was a lie," he said to himself. "There was something wrong. But what was it...? It wasn't just Alice, but I can't remember what else troubled me then..."
In the darkness, he heard voices. He could make out the outlines of people, crowding around his boyhood form. He recognized it to be some sort of rendition of the interviews he had often got as a child and a prodigy and a son of another Pokémon researcher.
"Mr. McKenzie, you've just become the youngest student ever at Celadon University," one of the reporters stated. "Tell us, what did your parents do to help you? What's the secret to your success?"
The boy hesitated before smiling broadly. "I love what I do! I love it!"
Bill frowned. Another lie. He closed his eyes and reopened them, only to find everything gone. Why? What was the reason behind these images?
"Father, do I please you?"
Bill looked up sharply upon hearing the voice of his younger self. He saw himself, years before, looking up to a portly, red-headed man in a lab coat. The man stared at the boy with deep, brown eyes for a long while.
"What was that?" the man asked gruffly.
The boy gave an expectant smile. "I said, 'Father, do I please you?'."
"I heard what you said!" His father frowned. "It's not good enough. You need to try harder."
Tears sprung up in the Meowth's eyes as he clenched his paws.
"NOTHING is EVER good enough for you!" he screamed at the image. "I've tried my hardest in everything, but never have I heard you say that I what I was doing pleased you! I did everything I could, but I couldn't be perfect! You didn't care for anything less than flawless!"
With that, he dropped to his knees and allowed his tears to flow freely.
"I stopped striving for your approval a long time ago," he murmured, partially to himself. "But it still hurts. It still hurts..."
Bill wiped away the tears from his eyes.
"THAT'S what this is all about, isn't it!? All these images are appearing to show me why I hate my father, aren't they!?"
Suddenly, light flooded the area. Bill opened his eyes fully to find himself in a grassy field under the glow of a full moon. He knew this area; it was framed by woods, decorated by flowers, and fringed on one side by a cliff that dropped into the sea. He knew the cliff especially well.
As if on cue, he saw a boy -- him, only eight years younger -- sitting a few feet away in the grass. The boy's eyes glittered with tears as both recalled the phone call made just a few hours before.
"Father, I earned another badge. Did what I do please you?"
The boy showed the badge to his father through the videophone in the Pokémon Center a few hours ago. There was a long pause.
"Father?"
The boy opened his joyful eyes, only to see his father frown.
"Just because you have two badges doesn't mean you have any skill," his father replied harshly. "The other children who left at the same time you did from the same exact starting point all have four badges and twenty Pokémon in storage. How many have you gotten, William? Not enough to have ONE sent here, that's for sure! You need to work harder, and don't get cocky! Don't call back until you've improved."
With that, the boy's father hung up, leaving the boy there to stare at the screen in shock. He didn't move, save for the loosening of his fingers just enough to drop the receiver.
Presently, the boy clenched his fists, holding back his tears.
"Nothing I ever do is good enough for him!" he shouted.
He stopped, then allowed his face to fall into one of extreme sadness. A decision had just been made. He took the PokéBalls from his belt, only four, and tossed each of them out into the meadow behind him. There appeared his team: Eevee, his favorite, Vulpix, his bravest, Abra, his most mischievous, and Ivysaur, his first and most loyal. He stared at them for a long while with a blank expression.
"I... I'm letting you all go," he said to them. "You probably don't want to have me as a trainer, anyways. My father said... that if I want to work with Pokémon, I have to be perfect. But... I'm not. I can't get there. I probably don't even deserve to call myself his son. It's just... I'm a failure, and my father tells me that every time we make contact. So what's the point in living if you can't get anything right? I guess what I want to say is..." His eyes welled up with tears again. "Good bye!"
(A/N: Though that would make a nice character flaw, I'm not portraying Bill as a crybaby. I'm portraying him as just a kid who's had WAY too much pressure put on him. If I remember correctly, that often happens to Japanese children anyways, so I guess it can be a cultural reference as well. ^_^;)
With that, he turned and quickly ran towards the cliff. He pushed himself off as far as he would go, and at that point, with that final push, time seemed to move slowly. The light of the new dawn drew across the horizon as he felt the wind in his face and heard prayers flow from his mouth into his ears. This was it; he was going to die.
Suddenly, something wrapped around his wrist, flung him back up the cliff, and wrapped around him, binding him from the chest to the waist and clamping his arms to his sides. He was raised high into the air as he struggled before he opened his eyes and found himself staring down at his Pokémon. Ivysaur, whose vines bound him and kept him from plunging into oblivion, stared up at him with a look almost indescribable.
His eyes brimmed with tears as he screamed, "Why!? Why did you do that to me!? Why, Ivysaur!? Just let me go!"
He closed his eyes and sobbed, allowing a few tears to fall on Ivysaur's vines.
Just then, a new light lit up the back of his eyelids. He slowly opened his eyes to find that, in the pink of the rising sun, his Ivysaur was engulfed in light.
"What's going on?" he asked softly. "What are you doing?"
Both the boy and the Meowth watched in awe as the Ivysaur grew in height and width. Its flower rose higher, and its leaves multiplied. And then, at the very climax, bathed in morning light, each petal of the flower peeled away, slowly in a magnificent show of grace and splendor. It bloomed, completing the evolution.
"You... You evolved... for me..."
The boy blinked a few times, then began to cry again, though this time, out of joy.
"Thank you..."
The scene faded away. The Meowth sitting a bit away wiped tears from his eyes.
"That's the reason why I wanted to become a Pokémon researcher," he said to himself. "I was enchanted by Ivysaur's evolution, and I wanted to thank it and all Pokémon for saving my life. But I don't understand... You've shown me things connected with my darker feelings -- my fears, my hatred... How does this fit in?"
"It was to show you that you aren't alone."
Bill looked up to see Morpheus standing over him.
"Morpheus!" Bill exclaimed in surprise.
"The boat ride was boring without you," Morpheus explained. "So, I followed you and saw everything."
"But... What do you mean when you said I'm not alone?" Bill asked.
"You aren't alone," Morpheus repeated. "You have friends -- though a very sparse few that are human -- and family to talk to. All mortals are blind to something, and while you isolate yourself, both mentally and physically, you only keep yourself blind to the fact that there are souls around who can help you and who can make you happy... And there are people around you whom you can help and make happy in return. Though the things you went through concerning Alice and your father are INCREDIBLY painful, you don't have to think that the only person you can turn to is yourself. I suppose your problem is thinking that people aren't reliable, and you should do your best to correct that problem. Understand?"
Bill nodded slowly. "Yes... I think so..."
The Meowth allowed his eyes to close for a bit. When he reopened them again, he found himself back in the boat. The ocean was calm, and everything was as if nothing had happened. Morpheus sat at one end of the boat, staring up at the night sky as he left Bill alone in the shack to think.
"I'm not alone," Bill mumbled, as if it was a new concept to him. "I'm not alone..."
---
Rose wiped her tears away, unable to face her husband while crying. She was about to lose a son, and her daughter went missing just a couple of weeks earlier. Now, she and her husband were putting signs all over Goldenrod City in an effort to find the little girl and bring her home. But with this sad point came a point of light; as Rose's husband busied himself by trying to find Ellie, he had forgotten all about calling the hospital and telling them to pull the plug on Rose's son. So, as long as Ellie was missing, Bill was given more time to awaken at last from his seemingly eternal sleep.
With a pack of fliers in her arms, Rose walked with her husband. The two passed over a bridge and to another part of Goldenrod City to find more people to help them find their lost daughter as quickly as possible. Little did they know that under that bridge was a little girl, clinging to her backpack.
"Mama, I'm sorry," Ellie murmured as she sat near a homeless family under that very bridge. "I don't want Big Brother to die. I won't let you and Daddy kill him..."
-To Melchior the Mewthree: Thank you for the compliments. Yes, as I've said before, it was my intention to create something strange, original, and non-cliché-ish for the people who feel the same way I do about stories and for the people who don't (just to show them that it's possible to create something strange, original, et cetera). Thank you for telling me that my work thus far is not in vain, and I'll try my best to keep up what I'm doing right now. ^_^
-To Tanya: Thanks again for the kind words. ^_^
-To DarkCatXX: You're welcome for everything. ^_^ (Ah, yes. Literal vacation. The fanfiction author's nightmare. Well, it is if you're me. Go on a trip and come back without a clue that you're supposed to write another chapter. ^_^;)
Anywho, thanks for the compliments on the latest chapter. I hadn't realized that it bore resemblance to Soul Caliber 2... Mainly because I hadn't played it before. Maybe I should. ^_^; (It's still cool that someone got a reference to something I hadn't even intended on referring to. =D)
As for the time thing, there's a rather simple explanation (Well, it seemed simple at the time...), and it would be this: In dreams, people really don't have a sense of time, so Bill's not aware that a long period of time had passed while he's "asleep." Besides, time is a thing defined by reality, and since Bill isn't IN reality at the moment, time has no definition. (Or something like that. I'm hoping someone out there gets what I'm trying to say. ^_^;)
Further note: A lot of the following chapter had been inspired by the last scenes of Alien Nine (Poor Kumi... ;_;) as well as the show's ending theme. (Yes, I got Alien Nine on DVD recently. Go and get it! It's good! =D) If anyone can find out where I can download a copy or where I could at least find the artist/title of the song, I'd glomp the freakin' stuffing out of you. ^_^;
And hey! I got this done in time for Christmas! Merry Christmas and happy holidays, everyone! =D
---
Night Five: An Ocean Too Deep
It only felt like a short time to him, but already, Bill felt as if his life in the real world was a dream. He was getting too used to seeing such an unusual landscape all around him, and he was getting too used to being a Meowth. It almost made life as a human seem absurd.
He leaned against the edge of the glass boat, staring forward as the boat gently moved with the waves, taking both of its occupants further and further into the unknown. Bill reached down and touched the waters with his paw as the boat climbed over a wave. It felt cool and silky, like water usually would. Was he supposed to feel it? Is that possible?
He brought his wet paw up, studying it in curiosity. Could he feel water? How is it possible that, in a world of dreams, everything seemed so real? How could he be able to feel everything except pain? Do people usually feel that in their dreams?
He closed his eyes and tried to recall another dream of his, one where he felt as if everything was real. However, nothing came to mind. His mind was as dark and bleak as the sky under which he rode.
Suddenly, something hit him in the face, then bounced over his head and landed onto the glass with a cross between a thud and a tink. Bill opened his eyes and turned around to see a silver fish (not a Magikarp, not a Goldeen, not a Feebas -- just not a Pokémon) flop around wildly on the glass bottom of the boat. Another fish, a blue one, smacked Bill in the back of the head and landed on top of the silver fish. Bill ducked as several more fish jumped into the boat and struggled to find their way back out. Some did, but most wound up lying listless on the boat's bottom, pumping their gills until they drowned in open air.
Bill stared at the pile of fish between himself and the shed, somewhat shocked that this had happened.
"What will we do with them?" Morpheus inquired from the shed.
Bill made his way around the pile. "I suppose we'll use them as food."
Morpheus looked at Bill from where he sat under the shed roof as he tilted his head.
"You can't eat in your current state," the god pointed out. "Neither can I, for that matter."
"Good point," Bill muttered as he looked back at the pile.
Just then, he saw an orange fish standing up on its tail fin. Its head was bent forward like a human head, rather than being pointed at the sky. (Why this was so is a complete mystery. Perhaps the fish just wanted to look at something other than the sky.) It looked first at the pile of fish from which it came, then around the boat, looking for something. Using its tail fin as a pair of feet, the fish wandered about the boat, wondering what was going on. Bill only stood by, intrigued by the fish and secretly hoping it would jump off the boat and swim away.
At last, the fish found what it was looking for and touched the edge of the boat with a fin. With a happy squeak, it jumped into the air and nearly touched the water...
...Just as a hand came bursting out of the dark depths and used the knife it held to skewer the fish. As the fish flailed about, struggling to escape its fate, more hands with knives erupted from the water, and, to Bill's horror, quickly cut up the fish into slices. Each slice fell onto the surface of the water and floated there before the hands all dropped their knives and collected each piece, placing them on a silver plate held by the hand whose knife skewered the fish. When not a single piece of the fish was left to float on the water, the hands sank into the waters, taking the plate of sliced fish with them.
It was then that Bill began to feel sick. With a pale face, he went to lean over the side of the boat where he vomited, violently expelling all contents (which he didn't know he had) within his stomach. When he was finished, he limply fell backwards into the boat, onto his back, nauseous with the scene that just took place as well as with the vile smell of slowly rotting fish. It was then when he wished he had the strength to throw them all overboard.
---
Bill was slumped in the shelter of the shack with a paw on his stomach. He had just shoved every fish overboard with the last of his strength before stumbling into the shade, trying not to look at the carpet of rainbow colors floating about the boat.
"Are you alright, Bill?" Morpheus asked with pure concern in his voice.
Bill sucked in a large amount of salty air and let it out slowly in an effort to calm his stomach. He curled up on his side and kept inhaling and exhaling deeply for a long while, keeping him from answering Morpheus right away.
At last, he weakly replied, "Yes. Of course."
"Are you sure?" Morpheus asked with caution.
Bill nodded feebly. "Yes."
Morpheus floated down a bit and placed a hand on Bill. "Is there something I can do to help you?"
Help. At that simple word, Bill shrugged Morpheus' hand off and struggled to stand up.
"I don't need help," Bill snapped. "I don't need anyone's help!"
Suddenly, the sky darkened to an almost pitch-black color as the boat began to pitch and as drops violently slammed into the roof of the small shelter in the middle of the boat. The pixies that formed those tiny bits of water screamed upon impact before landing into the water of the ocean, ejecting a dark liquid which was most likely like blood. Morpheus hovered in midair, watching as the Meowth slid back and forth across the glass bottom of the boat while the ocean and winds around them became angry and violent. At last, the waters sharply heaved upwards, tilting the boat back and causing the feline to slide backwards and over the edge of the glass boat.
Bill didn't know how to swim in his Meowth form. All he knew how to do was tire himself out by splashing around, trying to keep his head above water. Soon, he became exhausted, and, as he felt the last of his strength leave his tiny body, he closed his eyes and allowed the dark waters around him to swallow him.
---
"Ngh...! Hmm? Am I... dead?"
Bill opened his eyes to find himself in a dark hallway lit by fluorescent lights. Sounds of footsteps on the linoleum floor echoed off of the quiet walls.
"No... Not this place," Bill murmured to himself.
He realized that the footsteps were coming towards him, and, in an effort to hide, he scooted out of sight, through the opened door to a nearby room. Just as he did, he saw a nurse walk past, holding the hand of a familiar young boy dressed in a white, short-sleeved shirt and white pants. That boy was himself, ten years before. Curious, he followed, though he could have sworn that something seemed familiar about this.
There was complete silence until the brown-haired nurse walked the boy into a room much like a regular office with shelves of books about psychology along the walls. A large, mahogany desk covered with papers was placed straight ahead, and behind it was a brown, leather chair, turned around backwards as well as a window covered with blinds behind the chair. The Meowth slinked in behind the nurse and the boy before tucking himself in a corner of the room, behind a potted plant.
"Dr. Dogwood, I brought the three o' clock," the nurse stated.
"Good," a voice said from the chair. "Go outside and wait. When I'm done, I'll give him back to you."
The nurse nodded and walked out of the office, closing the door carefully behind her.
"Have a seat, William," the doctor said.
The boy nervously sat in one of the two black chairs in front of the desk. The large chair behind it swiveled around, allowing the boy to see the plump, balding man behind it. He looked very much like a Santa Claus without facial hair and with a doctor's coat on.
"So, the nurses have told me that we've finally gotten a breakthrough with you," Dogwood said enthusiastically. "You've only been here at Sheridan Hill for three months, and at last, you've finally said something."
Bill shuddered. Yes, it was the place he dreaded. Sheridan Hill. It was an asylum for children. He remembered it quite clearly then; after Alice's death, Bill gave up on life. For the first few weeks, he simply didn't care about school. Then, after awhile, he wouldn't sleep, and he stopped eating. He wouldn't even speak to anyone or express any emotion; he only stared off into space with a forlorn look. After about a week of this, his parents realized the danger he was putting himself into and so sent him to Sheridan Hill to try to "fix" him.
"Would you like to tell me about it, William?" Dogwood asked. "What's been on your mind lately?"
The boy groaned and shrank back into the chair.
"There's no reason to be shy!" Dogwood smiled. "I know how it feels to lose a loved one--"
"It... wasn't just that."
Dogwood tilted his perky head. "Come again?"
The boy ignored Dogwood's question. "I think I'm better now. Can I go home?"
Dogwood sighed. "Perhaps you can, William. But first, we need to discuss things."
"What's there to discuss?" For the first time in a long time, the boy's face broke into a smile. "I'm happy now! I've dealt with everything, and there's nothing wrong anymore!"
Bill closed his eyes. When he opened them, he found himself in complete darkness. All alone.
"That was a lie," he said to himself. "There was something wrong. But what was it...? It wasn't just Alice, but I can't remember what else troubled me then..."
In the darkness, he heard voices. He could make out the outlines of people, crowding around his boyhood form. He recognized it to be some sort of rendition of the interviews he had often got as a child and a prodigy and a son of another Pokémon researcher.
"Mr. McKenzie, you've just become the youngest student ever at Celadon University," one of the reporters stated. "Tell us, what did your parents do to help you? What's the secret to your success?"
The boy hesitated before smiling broadly. "I love what I do! I love it!"
Bill frowned. Another lie. He closed his eyes and reopened them, only to find everything gone. Why? What was the reason behind these images?
"Father, do I please you?"
Bill looked up sharply upon hearing the voice of his younger self. He saw himself, years before, looking up to a portly, red-headed man in a lab coat. The man stared at the boy with deep, brown eyes for a long while.
"What was that?" the man asked gruffly.
The boy gave an expectant smile. "I said, 'Father, do I please you?'."
"I heard what you said!" His father frowned. "It's not good enough. You need to try harder."
Tears sprung up in the Meowth's eyes as he clenched his paws.
"NOTHING is EVER good enough for you!" he screamed at the image. "I've tried my hardest in everything, but never have I heard you say that I what I was doing pleased you! I did everything I could, but I couldn't be perfect! You didn't care for anything less than flawless!"
With that, he dropped to his knees and allowed his tears to flow freely.
"I stopped striving for your approval a long time ago," he murmured, partially to himself. "But it still hurts. It still hurts..."
Bill wiped away the tears from his eyes.
"THAT'S what this is all about, isn't it!? All these images are appearing to show me why I hate my father, aren't they!?"
Suddenly, light flooded the area. Bill opened his eyes fully to find himself in a grassy field under the glow of a full moon. He knew this area; it was framed by woods, decorated by flowers, and fringed on one side by a cliff that dropped into the sea. He knew the cliff especially well.
As if on cue, he saw a boy -- him, only eight years younger -- sitting a few feet away in the grass. The boy's eyes glittered with tears as both recalled the phone call made just a few hours before.
"Father, I earned another badge. Did what I do please you?"
The boy showed the badge to his father through the videophone in the Pokémon Center a few hours ago. There was a long pause.
"Father?"
The boy opened his joyful eyes, only to see his father frown.
"Just because you have two badges doesn't mean you have any skill," his father replied harshly. "The other children who left at the same time you did from the same exact starting point all have four badges and twenty Pokémon in storage. How many have you gotten, William? Not enough to have ONE sent here, that's for sure! You need to work harder, and don't get cocky! Don't call back until you've improved."
With that, the boy's father hung up, leaving the boy there to stare at the screen in shock. He didn't move, save for the loosening of his fingers just enough to drop the receiver.
Presently, the boy clenched his fists, holding back his tears.
"Nothing I ever do is good enough for him!" he shouted.
He stopped, then allowed his face to fall into one of extreme sadness. A decision had just been made. He took the PokéBalls from his belt, only four, and tossed each of them out into the meadow behind him. There appeared his team: Eevee, his favorite, Vulpix, his bravest, Abra, his most mischievous, and Ivysaur, his first and most loyal. He stared at them for a long while with a blank expression.
"I... I'm letting you all go," he said to them. "You probably don't want to have me as a trainer, anyways. My father said... that if I want to work with Pokémon, I have to be perfect. But... I'm not. I can't get there. I probably don't even deserve to call myself his son. It's just... I'm a failure, and my father tells me that every time we make contact. So what's the point in living if you can't get anything right? I guess what I want to say is..." His eyes welled up with tears again. "Good bye!"
(A/N: Though that would make a nice character flaw, I'm not portraying Bill as a crybaby. I'm portraying him as just a kid who's had WAY too much pressure put on him. If I remember correctly, that often happens to Japanese children anyways, so I guess it can be a cultural reference as well. ^_^;)
With that, he turned and quickly ran towards the cliff. He pushed himself off as far as he would go, and at that point, with that final push, time seemed to move slowly. The light of the new dawn drew across the horizon as he felt the wind in his face and heard prayers flow from his mouth into his ears. This was it; he was going to die.
Suddenly, something wrapped around his wrist, flung him back up the cliff, and wrapped around him, binding him from the chest to the waist and clamping his arms to his sides. He was raised high into the air as he struggled before he opened his eyes and found himself staring down at his Pokémon. Ivysaur, whose vines bound him and kept him from plunging into oblivion, stared up at him with a look almost indescribable.
His eyes brimmed with tears as he screamed, "Why!? Why did you do that to me!? Why, Ivysaur!? Just let me go!"
He closed his eyes and sobbed, allowing a few tears to fall on Ivysaur's vines.
Just then, a new light lit up the back of his eyelids. He slowly opened his eyes to find that, in the pink of the rising sun, his Ivysaur was engulfed in light.
"What's going on?" he asked softly. "What are you doing?"
Both the boy and the Meowth watched in awe as the Ivysaur grew in height and width. Its flower rose higher, and its leaves multiplied. And then, at the very climax, bathed in morning light, each petal of the flower peeled away, slowly in a magnificent show of grace and splendor. It bloomed, completing the evolution.
"You... You evolved... for me..."
The boy blinked a few times, then began to cry again, though this time, out of joy.
"Thank you..."
The scene faded away. The Meowth sitting a bit away wiped tears from his eyes.
"That's the reason why I wanted to become a Pokémon researcher," he said to himself. "I was enchanted by Ivysaur's evolution, and I wanted to thank it and all Pokémon for saving my life. But I don't understand... You've shown me things connected with my darker feelings -- my fears, my hatred... How does this fit in?"
"It was to show you that you aren't alone."
Bill looked up to see Morpheus standing over him.
"Morpheus!" Bill exclaimed in surprise.
"The boat ride was boring without you," Morpheus explained. "So, I followed you and saw everything."
"But... What do you mean when you said I'm not alone?" Bill asked.
"You aren't alone," Morpheus repeated. "You have friends -- though a very sparse few that are human -- and family to talk to. All mortals are blind to something, and while you isolate yourself, both mentally and physically, you only keep yourself blind to the fact that there are souls around who can help you and who can make you happy... And there are people around you whom you can help and make happy in return. Though the things you went through concerning Alice and your father are INCREDIBLY painful, you don't have to think that the only person you can turn to is yourself. I suppose your problem is thinking that people aren't reliable, and you should do your best to correct that problem. Understand?"
Bill nodded slowly. "Yes... I think so..."
The Meowth allowed his eyes to close for a bit. When he reopened them again, he found himself back in the boat. The ocean was calm, and everything was as if nothing had happened. Morpheus sat at one end of the boat, staring up at the night sky as he left Bill alone in the shack to think.
"I'm not alone," Bill mumbled, as if it was a new concept to him. "I'm not alone..."
---
Rose wiped her tears away, unable to face her husband while crying. She was about to lose a son, and her daughter went missing just a couple of weeks earlier. Now, she and her husband were putting signs all over Goldenrod City in an effort to find the little girl and bring her home. But with this sad point came a point of light; as Rose's husband busied himself by trying to find Ellie, he had forgotten all about calling the hospital and telling them to pull the plug on Rose's son. So, as long as Ellie was missing, Bill was given more time to awaken at last from his seemingly eternal sleep.
With a pack of fliers in her arms, Rose walked with her husband. The two passed over a bridge and to another part of Goldenrod City to find more people to help them find their lost daughter as quickly as possible. Little did they know that under that bridge was a little girl, clinging to her backpack.
"Mama, I'm sorry," Ellie murmured as she sat near a homeless family under that very bridge. "I don't want Big Brother to die. I won't let you and Daddy kill him..."