Author's responses:
-To DarkCatXX: Yep. I finally continued. ; (And I finally did now as well! Ha to the rest of you who thought this would die a relatively boring death with a painful whimper!)
And yes, most people DIDN'T know Miss Blaustein did both Bill and Meowth. (Yes, Miss Blaustein. It's a bit ambiguous to whether Maddie is male or female if you go by online sources alone. I usually refer to Maddie as a she anyways because most sources that don't refer to Maddie as an "it" refers to her as a "she.") That is, until she told the world in the audio commentary of Pokémon 4Ever. (Well, actually, most people STILL don't know, but oh well. ;)
Anywho, yes, it seems strange that Bill's been in the hospital for almost a year. (Not quite, though -- you'll see why in the epilogue.) However, we also have to consider the fact that time moves erratically in Bill's dream world. In other words, what seems like a short time to him could actually be absurdly long. Likewise, a long time to him might actually be mere seconds. It's sort of like if you take a journey in your dream. What feels like days on end (which I've actually dreamt about -- longest dreamtime I've experienced was three days) is only actually a few hours, and if you feel like you just fell asleep at midnight, you could be waking up to the six AM alarm not a blink later.
I'm disappointed that I couldn't hear your question; I always find responding to the reviews much more fun than writing the actual story. Oh well. ;
By the way, I know you've updated; I just haven't had time to sit down and review yet. ;
-To Sir-Egan: Wow. That's the most enthusiastic review I've gotten. (Aside from maybe the person who threatened to commit him/herself to an asylum if I didn't write a sequel to Whose Line is it Anyways?: Pokémon Style. I wonder if they're treating him/her well in there...) And I thank you kindly.
-To Light Sneasel: Ah, yes. Indeed he HAD taken a step forward in "Haunted," but I can tell by your reaction to "Wishing on a Star of Hope" that you're surprised by the slight step back he took there. The thing is, yes, Bill is learning that he shouldn't allow the past to haunt him, but he's also got a handful of other problems to deal with, including the fact that he is (or at least, I portray him as) an enochlophobic/agoraphobic as well as an ornithophobic. In the seventh chapter, it almost appears as if he's taken a step backwards as of progress, though really, it's only a recollection of why he's afraid of crowds and birds. (Well, okay, that's not the reason why he's afraid of birds. I never got around to explaining that part.)
Otherwise, I'm glad to hear reviews from you, mainly because you seem to have a knack for analyzing my installments and drawing from them points that everyone else seems to miss. Hope to hear from you soon.
-To Melchior the Mewthree: Of COURSE Bill can't die! Not as long as I'M the writer! BWAHAHAHA!!
Audience: Oo;
Okay, maybe he can. But not in this one!
Anywho, yes. Greek mythology rocks. It's a shame you don't really find references to it in Pokémon fanfiction that often. Or maybe I'm just looking in all the wrong places.
---
Night Nine: Midsummer Night's Dream Ends
With every step through the labyrinth contained within the Lotus Temple, something new and unusual presented itself to Bill. There were things that were definitely symbols (though why he thought this, he couldn't quite tell); others were signs of the twisted insanity that was hidden deep within him. And there were still others that were a mix of the two. Venus fly traps dotted the hallway he had chosen to take, portraits of the most gruesome things covered the walls, and unmentionable horrors seemed to flow from every door.
Just as Bill slammed the door shut on a rather frightening glimpse of Hell itself, he turned to Morpheus. The Meowth was pale and shaking. And why wouldn't he be? Fire, brimstone, every last shadow that thrilled him with terror. All of it dwelled behind that single door, innocent in appearance. Demons with faces so horrifying that no more than a brief description of them would send shudders down a statue's spine lifted clawed hands, planning on taking Bill within the dark depths of the fires to make him suffer for every last sin that had been burned into his soul.
Bill shook terribly. He couldn't help it. Cold sweat soaked his pallid fur as he dropped to his knees, too afraid to press his forehead against the crimson door. He was too afraid to think at ALL. His eyes simply stared at the black line between the door and the tiled floor with wide, cat eyes, as if anticipating Satan and his minions to wriggle their hands through the crack and pull him down into an eternity of torment and other unimaginable horrors. His breath quickened, and for the first time in years, a quivering hand reached up and drew a cross over his body as a prayer spilled from his trembling lips in a faint whisper. He couldn't remember when he was this terrified before, and never would he be able to mimic such a feeling later on in life (much to his relief).
Morpheus rested a hand on Bill's shoulder, causing the poor youth to jump slightly, then sigh in a helpless manner.
"Are you alright?" Morpheus inquired.
Bill didn't answer as he struggled to stand up on legs not unlike gelatin. What defined "alright" anymore? Alive? Well? Bill couldn't answer that question either as it crossed his mind. All of a sudden, a faint confusion spread within his brain, like a thin fog. Bill merely pursed his lips and shook his head, trying to throw off this feeling. He took a step forward and continued on with a bit of his old determination. He wouldn't let the Lotus Temple defeat him.
For once, a look of worry crossed Morpheus' face as he watched Bill continue down the hall in silence.
"Bill?" he asked again.
Still no answer from the young soul. Morpheus frowned.
"I was afraid of this," he said to himself. "This is going too far."
With this, Morpheus disappeared into the shadows. Bill failed to notice as he continued on into... Into what? What was ahead of him?
A strange feeling crept into his core. It was a feeling he did his best to ignore, to pretend that wasn't there, gnawing at his every being. It was a feeling of aimlessness.
Abruptly, he turned to a door and opened it without thought or caution. It didn't seem to matter that there was a possibility that something behind it was dangerous. Bill seemed to have lost that thought just now; the glimpse of Hell clouded his senses and made him ignorant to anything around him. He stepped into the darkness, ignoring the threat of the unknown.
Automatically, the door slammed behind him, and lights lit up the room, bouncing off the mirrored walls. The wooden floor moved beneath his feet, spinning him around the circular space to gaze at every mirror. Nauseated by the whirl, Bill stared up but found no comfort. Above him, a blue, domed ceiling spotted with white stars around a sun with a demented look plastered on its face spun above him, laughing to add to the strange carnival music playing in his ears. The room was mocking him.
Placing all four paws on the floor, Bill stared straight ahead, watching as a Meowth moved into each mirror, confused and helpless. He didn't know what to make of any of it. He didn't know what to do anymore. Everything was a blur. He could feel his mind spinning out of control like the very floorboards he knelt upon.
He lowered his head, staring at the wood as drops of sweat fell onto it, making small, clear domes on the wood. He wanted nothing more than to find a way out. But in all of this -- in his dream, in the long journey where every flaw of him was bared, every wound open once again, he found nothing. Nothing!
"Let me go," he whispered before collapsing.
For the first time throughout the journey, he closed his eyes and submitted himself to pure blackness. In the distance, he heard a simple whisper of a voice that he couldn't identify... but sounded strangely familiar.
"Not yet."
---
"Why are you?"
Groggily, Bill opened his eyes to the soft voice. He blinked a few times as he remained still in the water. Water?
Slowly, he sat up, realizing that he wasn't at all where he had been when he had fainted. Instead, he was in shallow water, among tall poles shooting up from the muddy ground like bamboo chutes. The sky was obscured by the poles; his surroundings were only gray and black. Puzzled, he glanced about to find any sign of where he was and how he could get back. He WAS in the Lotus Temple... wasn't he?
"Why are you?"
Confused, Bill looked around to find the source of the voice. A group of poles near him parted, and through this crawled a Slowpoke. Bill watched it with a detached sort of interest. He was busy being lost in his own thoughts.
Finally, the Slowpoke opened its mouth and emitted a voice from its throat (though it never otherwise moved its great, white lips).
"Why are you?" it asked for a third time.
Bill blinked. "Do you mean WHO am I? If you do, my name is Bill."
The Slowpoke shook its head. "No, not 'WHO are you?'... WHY are you?"
"What do you mean?" Bill inquired. "Why am I what?"
The Slowpoke hesitated before finally replying, "Why are you what you are?"
Bill smiled awkwardly. "Morpheus transformed me into a Meowth."
At this, the Slowpoke sighed. "You don't understand. Why are you you and not anything else?"
Bill tilted his head. "Do you mean something like 'a rose by any other name still smells as sweet'?"
"If you wish to think of it that way," the Slowpoke responded with a nod. "What is your essence?"
Bill sat in thought for a long while, feeling the cold waters around him. He thought for a long while, trying to find something deep inside him that would provide an answer.
"Don't answer," the Slowpoke instructed.
Bill gazed at it with a blank stare.
"You shouldn't answer," it explained, "because no answer is suitable. There are things in this world that are what they are because they are, and there are things in this world that are what they are because they choose to be. If you are the former, then that is good. If you are the latter, then that is better. Which are you?"
Bill's ears lowered as he continued to gawk at the Slowpoke with utter perplexity. Was that a rhetorical question? And if so... What the hell was Slowpoke talking about in the first place?
"'Ere's a question for you," Bill muttered impatiently. "Why are you asking me nonsensical questions?"
"You're right," Slowpoke answered. "YOU should be asking YOURSELF these questions."
Bill stood up. He had had enough. This world was insane, and he knew that he himself was going the same way. In the quiet of the apparent night, he moved his hind paws through the water, splashing the dark liquid.
"I don't have time for this," he murmured, half to himself.
"If you don't have time for finding the key, then what DO you have time for?" Slowpoke inquired loudly.
Bill stopped and looked over his shoulder. "What do you mean by 'the key'?"
"Morpheus sent me," Slowpoke told him.
Bill frowned. "I figured that."
"He knew I could help you," the pink Pokémon continued, ignoring the youth's comment. "The only way you can escape is by figuring out why you are here."
Slowly, Bill's patience began to diminish. "Morpheus brought me here. Ask him."
"Not HERE," Slowpoke said unwearyingly. "Why do you exist? What is your purpose?"
"I don't know!" Bill blurted out, frustrated by Slowpoke's vague questions.
Suddenly, there was a long silence. Bill's aggravation was suddenly replaced with a dangerous realization.
"Oh my god," he whispered. "I don't know..."
Slowpoke stood by, watching the young man's reaction.
"All this time... I thought I knew..." Bill shook his head and knelt in the dark water. "But... I don't. I don't know... I don't know why I'm here."
"All this time, you were shown WHO you are," Slowpoke added, "but you weren't shown WHY you are. Why are you what you are, Bill? Did you choose to be that way?"
Once again, Bill stared at Slowpoke, dumbfounded. He had chosen to be a Pokémon researcher. THAT he was certain of. But what about everything else? Decisions based on other people's decisions. Choices made because of limitations. Times when he didn't have a choice affecting times when he did. But did he choose what he was deep inside? What WAS he? A thousand questions sprouted in his mind from one seed.
"I see you have no answer," Slowpoke uttered.
"No."
A sad glance crossed Slowpoke's face. "In that case--"
"No, I didn't choose," Bill interrupted. "I never chose to be born. I never chose to be human. I never chose to be vulnerable, and yes, even my decisions were based on past events I had no control over. No, I didn't choose."
"You are what you are because you are." Slowpoke nodded in acceptance. "That is how most people are. However, few realize that they cannot be exactly what they want to be. Something inside them is different from what their ideal self is. Sometimes, it's due to mistakes they've made. Sometimes, it's due to the fact that they came into your world the way they are, and they simply cannot change that. You, however, apparently realized that. How does that make you feel?"
"Lost," Bill replied as he lowered his head a bit.
"That is understandable," Slowpoke assured him. "Now, tell me. You yourself once said that every living creature has a purpose. Do you know what yours is?"
"Would it be a crime if I said 'no'?" Bill asked cautiously as he raised his head.
"No, I was simply curious," Slowpoke admitted. "In fact, it would be a crime if you DID. No one knows their purpose when they start out. It is only when you finish and look back at what you had created when you realize what was there."
It was a strange statement (let alone conversation), and yet... By then, something inside Bill understood. A part of him was still lost on the matter, but most of his being comprehended what Slowpoke was trying to tell him and agreed. This dawning became apparent in his eyes as he gazed steadily into those of Slowpoke.
"You understand," Slowpoke half-stated.
With this, Bill nodded. "I'm not sure if I do completely, but... Yes. I think I do."
"Uncertainty is certainly better than certainty," Slowpoke pointed out (reminding Bill of the Cheshire Cat in the process). "You seem to be ready. Follow."
Slowpoke had no sooner spilled the final word from its mouth before it turned and receded from whence it came. Bill followed closely, pushing through the forest of poles that closed in around Slowpoke and him. Long moments passed, and Bill was more wary of the Slowpoke's tedious pace than the shadows around him. He didn't notice as one moved, opening its glowing eyes for a second. Eyes that watched the white cat following the painfully pink creature. Eyes that disappeared not long after.
"Where are we going?" Bill finally asked, breaking the unnerving silence between the two Pokémon.
"Wait. Wait," Slowpoke answered, almost breathlessly.
Again, neither of them said anything, and it remained that way until Slowpoke pushed down a final pole and moved its head in a way to beckon Bill to continue forward. The Meowth hesitated before at last stepping forward, into the large, round clearing. Several clangs told him that Slowpoke had departed, leaving Bill standing at the edge of deeper waters.
Suddenly, a light turned on somewhere below, throwing a blue glow throughout the clearing. Bill wondered momentarily where the source of this radiance was before pushing it into the back of his mind, as if it didn't really matter. The light wavered from under the waters, throwing strange, moving patterns on the walls formed by the metal poles. It looked so incredibly serene it was beautiful.
But as a lotus passed directly over the light source and floated towards the middle of the pool, Bill's feline eyes spotted something else. Someone was standing in the center with his back turned towards the only other occupant of the room -- wet, as if he had been dropped into the pool. His thin arms wrapped around himself tightly as he hunched over just a tiny bit. His body was thin and willowy, wrapped in pale skin decorated with beads of water. He wasn't ashamed, but why would he be? His head was bent down as dark hair clung to his face and skin with dampness. Bill realized at once what he was looking at, but he said nothing.
Noticing that he was being watched, the youth in the middle turned his head slightly, staring at the Meowth with dark eyes. Slowly, he turned around, pushing the water out of the way. He looked peaceful and relieved as he began walking slowly towards the Meowth on the depth's edge.
Nightmare burst from the darkness above, descending like a bird of prey onto the target he had been wanting to reach for quite a long time as he only hissed as a warning. Just about halfway down, however, gray claws reached up and planted themselves into his back, pushing through dark flesh and piercing the skin of the other side, turning the bones and organs they touched into mere gelatin. Nightmare's green eyes opened to their maximum width as he gave a couple small squeaks. He gave one last look at his assailant before vanishing in a puff of black smoke and dust. There was no longer any darkness within that heart or mind. Bill was safe.
Morpheus simply frowned and let his gray limb fall to his side.
"No one will be permitted to interfere now," he murmured. "Not when Bill is so close..."
The shameless youth far below reached the edge of the depth where the mud gently sloped up into shallows. He knelt down in the water, submerging up to his shoulders as he kept his dark eyes fixed on the Meowth, waiting for something to happen. When it didn't, a hand reached out from the waters and touched the side of Bill's furry face.
"Identity meets consciousness," the human muttered before taking one of Bill's paws. "You've found me at last, and now, we may be one again..."
There was a bright flash of light as Morpheus watched the remerging. Once the light faded, he wasn't surprised to see Bill stand in the pool in his human form, wrapped in robes of white. He looked himself over carefully before he lifted his eyes to Morpheus and smiled. He opened his mouth, about to say something when he stopped. He couldn't get the words out of his mouth. In fact... He couldn't breathe. He grabbed the cloth on the front of his chest and collapsed into the water as Morpheus swiftly dropped to grab Bill's hand.
Suddenly, the world went black...
---
Crying. He could hear crying. From where, he didn't know, but that's what it was. Was it another part of his dream?
Slowly, he opened his eyes to find himself staring up at a white ceiling with a doctor standing over him, attempting to take his pulse. However, the doctor looked straight into his eyes and smiled before turning away.
"He's awake, Mrs. McKenzie," the doctor said. "He came to after all."
A thousand thoughts flooded Bill's mind. 'What? What's going on? Where...?'
As soon as he sat up, he found himself nearly knocked down again by the embrace of his mother and sisters, all crying in pure bliss. He didn't care if he didn't understand how he wound up where he was. He simply allowed them to suffocate him in love, welcoming him back to the world of the logical.
-To DarkCatXX: Yep. I finally continued. ; (And I finally did now as well! Ha to the rest of you who thought this would die a relatively boring death with a painful whimper!)
And yes, most people DIDN'T know Miss Blaustein did both Bill and Meowth. (Yes, Miss Blaustein. It's a bit ambiguous to whether Maddie is male or female if you go by online sources alone. I usually refer to Maddie as a she anyways because most sources that don't refer to Maddie as an "it" refers to her as a "she.") That is, until she told the world in the audio commentary of Pokémon 4Ever. (Well, actually, most people STILL don't know, but oh well. ;)
Anywho, yes, it seems strange that Bill's been in the hospital for almost a year. (Not quite, though -- you'll see why in the epilogue.) However, we also have to consider the fact that time moves erratically in Bill's dream world. In other words, what seems like a short time to him could actually be absurdly long. Likewise, a long time to him might actually be mere seconds. It's sort of like if you take a journey in your dream. What feels like days on end (which I've actually dreamt about -- longest dreamtime I've experienced was three days) is only actually a few hours, and if you feel like you just fell asleep at midnight, you could be waking up to the six AM alarm not a blink later.
I'm disappointed that I couldn't hear your question; I always find responding to the reviews much more fun than writing the actual story. Oh well. ;
By the way, I know you've updated; I just haven't had time to sit down and review yet. ;
-To Sir-Egan: Wow. That's the most enthusiastic review I've gotten. (Aside from maybe the person who threatened to commit him/herself to an asylum if I didn't write a sequel to Whose Line is it Anyways?: Pokémon Style. I wonder if they're treating him/her well in there...) And I thank you kindly.
-To Light Sneasel: Ah, yes. Indeed he HAD taken a step forward in "Haunted," but I can tell by your reaction to "Wishing on a Star of Hope" that you're surprised by the slight step back he took there. The thing is, yes, Bill is learning that he shouldn't allow the past to haunt him, but he's also got a handful of other problems to deal with, including the fact that he is (or at least, I portray him as) an enochlophobic/agoraphobic as well as an ornithophobic. In the seventh chapter, it almost appears as if he's taken a step backwards as of progress, though really, it's only a recollection of why he's afraid of crowds and birds. (Well, okay, that's not the reason why he's afraid of birds. I never got around to explaining that part.)
Otherwise, I'm glad to hear reviews from you, mainly because you seem to have a knack for analyzing my installments and drawing from them points that everyone else seems to miss. Hope to hear from you soon.
-To Melchior the Mewthree: Of COURSE Bill can't die! Not as long as I'M the writer! BWAHAHAHA!!
Audience: Oo;
Okay, maybe he can. But not in this one!
Anywho, yes. Greek mythology rocks. It's a shame you don't really find references to it in Pokémon fanfiction that often. Or maybe I'm just looking in all the wrong places.
---
Night Nine: Midsummer Night's Dream Ends
With every step through the labyrinth contained within the Lotus Temple, something new and unusual presented itself to Bill. There were things that were definitely symbols (though why he thought this, he couldn't quite tell); others were signs of the twisted insanity that was hidden deep within him. And there were still others that were a mix of the two. Venus fly traps dotted the hallway he had chosen to take, portraits of the most gruesome things covered the walls, and unmentionable horrors seemed to flow from every door.
Just as Bill slammed the door shut on a rather frightening glimpse of Hell itself, he turned to Morpheus. The Meowth was pale and shaking. And why wouldn't he be? Fire, brimstone, every last shadow that thrilled him with terror. All of it dwelled behind that single door, innocent in appearance. Demons with faces so horrifying that no more than a brief description of them would send shudders down a statue's spine lifted clawed hands, planning on taking Bill within the dark depths of the fires to make him suffer for every last sin that had been burned into his soul.
Bill shook terribly. He couldn't help it. Cold sweat soaked his pallid fur as he dropped to his knees, too afraid to press his forehead against the crimson door. He was too afraid to think at ALL. His eyes simply stared at the black line between the door and the tiled floor with wide, cat eyes, as if anticipating Satan and his minions to wriggle their hands through the crack and pull him down into an eternity of torment and other unimaginable horrors. His breath quickened, and for the first time in years, a quivering hand reached up and drew a cross over his body as a prayer spilled from his trembling lips in a faint whisper. He couldn't remember when he was this terrified before, and never would he be able to mimic such a feeling later on in life (much to his relief).
Morpheus rested a hand on Bill's shoulder, causing the poor youth to jump slightly, then sigh in a helpless manner.
"Are you alright?" Morpheus inquired.
Bill didn't answer as he struggled to stand up on legs not unlike gelatin. What defined "alright" anymore? Alive? Well? Bill couldn't answer that question either as it crossed his mind. All of a sudden, a faint confusion spread within his brain, like a thin fog. Bill merely pursed his lips and shook his head, trying to throw off this feeling. He took a step forward and continued on with a bit of his old determination. He wouldn't let the Lotus Temple defeat him.
For once, a look of worry crossed Morpheus' face as he watched Bill continue down the hall in silence.
"Bill?" he asked again.
Still no answer from the young soul. Morpheus frowned.
"I was afraid of this," he said to himself. "This is going too far."
With this, Morpheus disappeared into the shadows. Bill failed to notice as he continued on into... Into what? What was ahead of him?
A strange feeling crept into his core. It was a feeling he did his best to ignore, to pretend that wasn't there, gnawing at his every being. It was a feeling of aimlessness.
Abruptly, he turned to a door and opened it without thought or caution. It didn't seem to matter that there was a possibility that something behind it was dangerous. Bill seemed to have lost that thought just now; the glimpse of Hell clouded his senses and made him ignorant to anything around him. He stepped into the darkness, ignoring the threat of the unknown.
Automatically, the door slammed behind him, and lights lit up the room, bouncing off the mirrored walls. The wooden floor moved beneath his feet, spinning him around the circular space to gaze at every mirror. Nauseated by the whirl, Bill stared up but found no comfort. Above him, a blue, domed ceiling spotted with white stars around a sun with a demented look plastered on its face spun above him, laughing to add to the strange carnival music playing in his ears. The room was mocking him.
Placing all four paws on the floor, Bill stared straight ahead, watching as a Meowth moved into each mirror, confused and helpless. He didn't know what to make of any of it. He didn't know what to do anymore. Everything was a blur. He could feel his mind spinning out of control like the very floorboards he knelt upon.
He lowered his head, staring at the wood as drops of sweat fell onto it, making small, clear domes on the wood. He wanted nothing more than to find a way out. But in all of this -- in his dream, in the long journey where every flaw of him was bared, every wound open once again, he found nothing. Nothing!
"Let me go," he whispered before collapsing.
For the first time throughout the journey, he closed his eyes and submitted himself to pure blackness. In the distance, he heard a simple whisper of a voice that he couldn't identify... but sounded strangely familiar.
"Not yet."
---
"Why are you?"
Groggily, Bill opened his eyes to the soft voice. He blinked a few times as he remained still in the water. Water?
Slowly, he sat up, realizing that he wasn't at all where he had been when he had fainted. Instead, he was in shallow water, among tall poles shooting up from the muddy ground like bamboo chutes. The sky was obscured by the poles; his surroundings were only gray and black. Puzzled, he glanced about to find any sign of where he was and how he could get back. He WAS in the Lotus Temple... wasn't he?
"Why are you?"
Confused, Bill looked around to find the source of the voice. A group of poles near him parted, and through this crawled a Slowpoke. Bill watched it with a detached sort of interest. He was busy being lost in his own thoughts.
Finally, the Slowpoke opened its mouth and emitted a voice from its throat (though it never otherwise moved its great, white lips).
"Why are you?" it asked for a third time.
Bill blinked. "Do you mean WHO am I? If you do, my name is Bill."
The Slowpoke shook its head. "No, not 'WHO are you?'... WHY are you?"
"What do you mean?" Bill inquired. "Why am I what?"
The Slowpoke hesitated before finally replying, "Why are you what you are?"
Bill smiled awkwardly. "Morpheus transformed me into a Meowth."
At this, the Slowpoke sighed. "You don't understand. Why are you you and not anything else?"
Bill tilted his head. "Do you mean something like 'a rose by any other name still smells as sweet'?"
"If you wish to think of it that way," the Slowpoke responded with a nod. "What is your essence?"
Bill sat in thought for a long while, feeling the cold waters around him. He thought for a long while, trying to find something deep inside him that would provide an answer.
"Don't answer," the Slowpoke instructed.
Bill gazed at it with a blank stare.
"You shouldn't answer," it explained, "because no answer is suitable. There are things in this world that are what they are because they are, and there are things in this world that are what they are because they choose to be. If you are the former, then that is good. If you are the latter, then that is better. Which are you?"
Bill's ears lowered as he continued to gawk at the Slowpoke with utter perplexity. Was that a rhetorical question? And if so... What the hell was Slowpoke talking about in the first place?
"'Ere's a question for you," Bill muttered impatiently. "Why are you asking me nonsensical questions?"
"You're right," Slowpoke answered. "YOU should be asking YOURSELF these questions."
Bill stood up. He had had enough. This world was insane, and he knew that he himself was going the same way. In the quiet of the apparent night, he moved his hind paws through the water, splashing the dark liquid.
"I don't have time for this," he murmured, half to himself.
"If you don't have time for finding the key, then what DO you have time for?" Slowpoke inquired loudly.
Bill stopped and looked over his shoulder. "What do you mean by 'the key'?"
"Morpheus sent me," Slowpoke told him.
Bill frowned. "I figured that."
"He knew I could help you," the pink Pokémon continued, ignoring the youth's comment. "The only way you can escape is by figuring out why you are here."
Slowly, Bill's patience began to diminish. "Morpheus brought me here. Ask him."
"Not HERE," Slowpoke said unwearyingly. "Why do you exist? What is your purpose?"
"I don't know!" Bill blurted out, frustrated by Slowpoke's vague questions.
Suddenly, there was a long silence. Bill's aggravation was suddenly replaced with a dangerous realization.
"Oh my god," he whispered. "I don't know..."
Slowpoke stood by, watching the young man's reaction.
"All this time... I thought I knew..." Bill shook his head and knelt in the dark water. "But... I don't. I don't know... I don't know why I'm here."
"All this time, you were shown WHO you are," Slowpoke added, "but you weren't shown WHY you are. Why are you what you are, Bill? Did you choose to be that way?"
Once again, Bill stared at Slowpoke, dumbfounded. He had chosen to be a Pokémon researcher. THAT he was certain of. But what about everything else? Decisions based on other people's decisions. Choices made because of limitations. Times when he didn't have a choice affecting times when he did. But did he choose what he was deep inside? What WAS he? A thousand questions sprouted in his mind from one seed.
"I see you have no answer," Slowpoke uttered.
"No."
A sad glance crossed Slowpoke's face. "In that case--"
"No, I didn't choose," Bill interrupted. "I never chose to be born. I never chose to be human. I never chose to be vulnerable, and yes, even my decisions were based on past events I had no control over. No, I didn't choose."
"You are what you are because you are." Slowpoke nodded in acceptance. "That is how most people are. However, few realize that they cannot be exactly what they want to be. Something inside them is different from what their ideal self is. Sometimes, it's due to mistakes they've made. Sometimes, it's due to the fact that they came into your world the way they are, and they simply cannot change that. You, however, apparently realized that. How does that make you feel?"
"Lost," Bill replied as he lowered his head a bit.
"That is understandable," Slowpoke assured him. "Now, tell me. You yourself once said that every living creature has a purpose. Do you know what yours is?"
"Would it be a crime if I said 'no'?" Bill asked cautiously as he raised his head.
"No, I was simply curious," Slowpoke admitted. "In fact, it would be a crime if you DID. No one knows their purpose when they start out. It is only when you finish and look back at what you had created when you realize what was there."
It was a strange statement (let alone conversation), and yet... By then, something inside Bill understood. A part of him was still lost on the matter, but most of his being comprehended what Slowpoke was trying to tell him and agreed. This dawning became apparent in his eyes as he gazed steadily into those of Slowpoke.
"You understand," Slowpoke half-stated.
With this, Bill nodded. "I'm not sure if I do completely, but... Yes. I think I do."
"Uncertainty is certainly better than certainty," Slowpoke pointed out (reminding Bill of the Cheshire Cat in the process). "You seem to be ready. Follow."
Slowpoke had no sooner spilled the final word from its mouth before it turned and receded from whence it came. Bill followed closely, pushing through the forest of poles that closed in around Slowpoke and him. Long moments passed, and Bill was more wary of the Slowpoke's tedious pace than the shadows around him. He didn't notice as one moved, opening its glowing eyes for a second. Eyes that watched the white cat following the painfully pink creature. Eyes that disappeared not long after.
"Where are we going?" Bill finally asked, breaking the unnerving silence between the two Pokémon.
"Wait. Wait," Slowpoke answered, almost breathlessly.
Again, neither of them said anything, and it remained that way until Slowpoke pushed down a final pole and moved its head in a way to beckon Bill to continue forward. The Meowth hesitated before at last stepping forward, into the large, round clearing. Several clangs told him that Slowpoke had departed, leaving Bill standing at the edge of deeper waters.
Suddenly, a light turned on somewhere below, throwing a blue glow throughout the clearing. Bill wondered momentarily where the source of this radiance was before pushing it into the back of his mind, as if it didn't really matter. The light wavered from under the waters, throwing strange, moving patterns on the walls formed by the metal poles. It looked so incredibly serene it was beautiful.
But as a lotus passed directly over the light source and floated towards the middle of the pool, Bill's feline eyes spotted something else. Someone was standing in the center with his back turned towards the only other occupant of the room -- wet, as if he had been dropped into the pool. His thin arms wrapped around himself tightly as he hunched over just a tiny bit. His body was thin and willowy, wrapped in pale skin decorated with beads of water. He wasn't ashamed, but why would he be? His head was bent down as dark hair clung to his face and skin with dampness. Bill realized at once what he was looking at, but he said nothing.
Noticing that he was being watched, the youth in the middle turned his head slightly, staring at the Meowth with dark eyes. Slowly, he turned around, pushing the water out of the way. He looked peaceful and relieved as he began walking slowly towards the Meowth on the depth's edge.
Nightmare burst from the darkness above, descending like a bird of prey onto the target he had been wanting to reach for quite a long time as he only hissed as a warning. Just about halfway down, however, gray claws reached up and planted themselves into his back, pushing through dark flesh and piercing the skin of the other side, turning the bones and organs they touched into mere gelatin. Nightmare's green eyes opened to their maximum width as he gave a couple small squeaks. He gave one last look at his assailant before vanishing in a puff of black smoke and dust. There was no longer any darkness within that heart or mind. Bill was safe.
Morpheus simply frowned and let his gray limb fall to his side.
"No one will be permitted to interfere now," he murmured. "Not when Bill is so close..."
The shameless youth far below reached the edge of the depth where the mud gently sloped up into shallows. He knelt down in the water, submerging up to his shoulders as he kept his dark eyes fixed on the Meowth, waiting for something to happen. When it didn't, a hand reached out from the waters and touched the side of Bill's furry face.
"Identity meets consciousness," the human muttered before taking one of Bill's paws. "You've found me at last, and now, we may be one again..."
There was a bright flash of light as Morpheus watched the remerging. Once the light faded, he wasn't surprised to see Bill stand in the pool in his human form, wrapped in robes of white. He looked himself over carefully before he lifted his eyes to Morpheus and smiled. He opened his mouth, about to say something when he stopped. He couldn't get the words out of his mouth. In fact... He couldn't breathe. He grabbed the cloth on the front of his chest and collapsed into the water as Morpheus swiftly dropped to grab Bill's hand.
Suddenly, the world went black...
---
Crying. He could hear crying. From where, he didn't know, but that's what it was. Was it another part of his dream?
Slowly, he opened his eyes to find himself staring up at a white ceiling with a doctor standing over him, attempting to take his pulse. However, the doctor looked straight into his eyes and smiled before turning away.
"He's awake, Mrs. McKenzie," the doctor said. "He came to after all."
A thousand thoughts flooded Bill's mind. 'What? What's going on? Where...?'
As soon as he sat up, he found himself nearly knocked down again by the embrace of his mother and sisters, all crying in pure bliss. He didn't care if he didn't understand how he wound up where he was. He simply allowed them to suffocate him in love, welcoming him back to the world of the logical.