Chapter 16
Bulbasaur dashed through Professor Oak's front door, his expression spilling with excitement.
"Buuuuuuulbaaaaaa!"
Pikachu, Charizard, and Squirtle rushed instantly to meet him at the door.
"Pika?" Pikachu was battling to keep the demand from his voice.
Bulbasaur grinned proudly, turning to gesture at the front lawn.
Pikachu squealed with delight and lunged forward, beating them all outside.
It was dismally dark outdoors. Pikachu's eyes strained, penetrating the night . . . at once he recognized his old friend.
"Pidgeot!" Ash's old Pidgeot sang with glee.
She soared downward, embracing Pikachu within her mighty wings. Squirtle and Charizard had to wait their turn to say 'hello' . . . they wanted to make certain that Pikachu greeted her first.
Although Pidgeot now lived only a few miles from Pallet Town, it had been an awfully long time since they had all been together. Pidgeot had spent the past three years helping to protect wild Pidgey's from unfair assaults by other wild Pokemon. They hadn't seen each other since Ash had left for the Orange Islands.
Pikachu longed to merely visit with his dear friend, to simply catch up on all the events of her life . . . only at this time Pikachu did not own a single second to spare. Ash was in danger and Professor Oak would probably be home in a few hours.
Pikachu's little black eyes fused with Pidgeot's.
"Pikachu?" this was a life or death question.
Pidgeot dipped her head positively; then pointed her body to face the bleak forest.
"Pidgggggggyoooot!" she cried loudly.
Within seconds she was surrounded by dozens of Pidgey's and Pidgeotto's. She frantically began squawking out questions . . . however they sounded more like interrogations. "Pidgeot! Pidgeot! Piiiiiiidgeot!"
The other bird Pokemon peeped and cooed gaudily, all conversing at one time. In spite of all the babble none seemed to respond to her questions.
She huffed with annoyance, her feathers ruffling.
Charizard was making a low rumbling sound . . . obviously all this bird chatter was chafing on his nerves.
Pikachu patted Charizard's foot with sympathy, they needed Charizard's perceptiveness to be top notch.
Finally, one rather petite Pidgey waddled forward from the gathering. It looked to Pidgeot gravely.
"Pidgey, pidgey," it cooed.
Pidgeot and Pikachu simultaneously nodded with conclusion.
Pikachu's checks sparkled with relief; he turned to Charizard and Squirtle.
"Pika, pi."
This Pidgey had seen Noctowl. . . and knew where he was.
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"I'll see you two kids first thing tomorrow," Derrick snarled. He roughly shoved Misty and Gary back inside their frigidly dark cell.
"By the way, Oak: you protest again and I have the go-ahead to slit your throat. Sweet dreams," Derrick added with a snicker before slamming the huge iron door shut.
The forceful momentum of Derrick's shove sent Misty stumbling halfway across the cell. She let her arms flail, attempting to maintain balance. Misty succeeded and did not topple over.
Gary was not so lucky. With only one strong foot he could not possibly stop himself from plummeting downward.
He collapsed weakly on all fours, crying out in immeasurable distress as his broken ankle struck the floor.
Gary held that miserable position . . . hunched over on his hands and knees like a dying Growlithe. He was quietly whimpering in agony, straining to keep his head from dropping to the floor. Sweat was gliding freely down his forehead, causing his thick mane of mahogany to adhere to his face. His exhausted young body hadn't the scarce reserves left to maneuver to his knees or to even sit up straight.
He began to teeter slightly, breathing in fractured gasps.
He's going to faint! Misty realized frantically. He saved me from such a fate before. I won't let him crumble like this now.
"Gary!" Misty dove forward, skidding on her knees. She managed to catch his head in her arms just before it cracked against the floor.
Gary moaned, glancing up at her with an apologetic half smile.
"S-sorry," Gary murmured. "I lost it for a second."
Misty carefully laid Gary's head on her lap. She was amazed as she gazed down into his eyes . . . they looked like pools of liquid sapphire . . . regardless of his fatigue, they were still radiant. Gary's decisiveness was stronger than ever.
He was ill, but he was never giving up.
Misty attempted a brave smile, allowing her cold fingers to softly graze the heated flesh of his brow. She gently stroked away a few strands of his hair which were agitating his eyelids.
His face is burning up, Misty marked fearfully to herself. The infection in his ankle must be spreading. Oh lord . . . he needs a doctor. She felt panic well up inside her, but she was determined to give Gary the same brave front that he had unwaveringly been providing her with.
Throughout The Seers speech Misty had noticed that Gary seemed more and more disoriented. By the time the speech was over, and Derrick had returned to bring them back to this cell, Gary's movements were sluggish; his attention completely unfocused. He had deteriorated at an alarmingly quick rate.
"Tired?" Gary piped up at her, observing that her attention was engrossed by his condition.
Misty smiled weakly. "Yeah, I am tired. Tired, hungry, dirty."
Given his physical state, Gary flashed a surprisingly charming grin. "You forgot to mention sore and freezing."
"Okay, those too." Misty smirked, pleased that his sense of humor had not been destroyed.
A pensive frown surfaced upon her lips. "It IS cold in here, huh?"
An involuntary shiver crept up her spine. A moment ago her adrenaline had been pumping and she hadn't noticed the bitter temperature. She noticed now.
The two of them were on a solid stone floor. They had no blankets, or even a rug to put between their bodies and the cold ground.
Why didn't I wear a jacket or a sweatshirt before leaving Pallet!. . . I wish I never left Pallet at all. . .
Gary felt Misty's lap shiver beneath his head. A heavy sigh escaped him. "It's damn freezing in here. Hey, you know what," he shifted his weight uncomfortably, struggling to raise his head. "I feel a bit stronger."
"Liar," Misty snuffed, a playful glimmer in her emerald eyes.
Gary raised an eyebrow with amusement. "Seriously," he continued, constraining his body upward. "Resting like that for a moment was just what I needed." Gary used his arms to push off Misty and direct his frame into a sitting position.
He was physically pushing his body to its breaking point.
Misty shot him with a look of caution. Gary avoided her prudent eyes and steadied himself, leaning gratefully against the chilled wall for support.
"Oh, I see," Misty began dryly, "the wall is more comfortable than my lap!"
Gary smiled thoughtfully. "Nah, c'mere." He gingerly reached his arms out towards Misty.
Automatically she allowed herself to be pulled into his welcoming, secure arms. Gary exhaled, holding her shivering body close.
Misty relaxed her head against his chest, her hands curling inside the tattered fabric of his shirt. The fabric was warm; her hands seemed to unthaw a bit.
She then turned, pressing her face into his chest. Misty's numb nose and cheeks relished this new warmth. She inhaled deeply, the undeniable sent of blood and dirt fulfilling her senses. Usually such mortal aromas would have sent swells of terror racing through her . . . only, in some strange way she was this time comforted by them. It was Gary's blood and Gary's dirt. He was alive. He was real . . . and she was not going through this alone.
"Hey, Gary?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think they will really let us go if we lose?" Misty didn't try to veil to hope in her voice.
"No," he responded frankly. "I don't believe anything that Seer guy said. I don't think it's a smart move to lose a battle . . . but I sure as hell don't wanna win either. Whatever this Revival is, I want nothing do to with it."
"Do you think they will hurt our Pokemon if we lose?" a lump of grievous emotion began forming in her throat. Misty was afraid she might start crying again.
"Just do your best tomorrow," Gary's voice sounded thin. The mere act of speaking was wearing him out.
"You won't argue with Derrick tomorrow, will you? Promise me you won't?"
Misty felt Gary's chin lean into her hair. He didn't respond to her urgent question.
After a silent moment, Misty reached her hands up and gently touched his face. He didn't stir. He was breathing heavily, but steadily now. Gary was already asleep.
Relief played in Misty's eyes: Gary had found some comfort at last.
She snuggled up against him. The jerk who she had scarcely known for years was now her selfless, incredible lifeline. . . she was astonished.
"So, is this the real Gary Oak?" she whispered.
Even though Gary was asleep, his arms instinctively pulled her in tighter; ensuring that -what little warmth they shared- stayed upon her.
Blanketed by fleeting consolation inside and out, Misty was soon also fast asleep.
Both Gary's and Misty's dreams were haunted by the inevitable battle waiting for them in the morning.