After talking with Macey, Forrester found his mind wouldn't stop running.
All he could think about was the Saint Anne sinking – and how it actually brought their broken family back together – and the possibility of Brock still being alive somewhere.
He had been up late into the night searching the internet for any new information regarding the Saint Anne, to which he found nothing of interest. Instead, he found himself flopped on his bed, pen and notepad in hand, writing out what he knew about the SS Anne sinking and what Macey thought she had seen.
It kept bringing him back to one question though – if Brock had been alive this entire time, why did leave them?
Did Brock know what his disappearance did to his family?
"Forrester – wake up!"
The teenager groaned; his head underneath the covers. He could feel hands pressing against his shoulders, urging him to wake up. He grumbled under his breath, scooting away from the hands, on the verge of falling back into sleep. He didn't feel the hands again, his siblings having given up on him.
It was a Saturday, he wasn't getting up early.
But, Forrester then felt the mattress sag underneath someone's weight. "Forrester," the voice said again, persistent, if not a bit annoyed. "Come on, wake up! The Gym's opening up soon, you said –"
"Go away," he cut in, his voice muffled by the blankets.
"Fine," the voice huffed, their hands pushing him once more in annoyance before hopping off the bed. "I'll just find Brock on my own – just stay in bed then!"
His eyes opened then, if a bit blearily at Macey's words. "Wait," he mumbled, bringing the cover away from his face as he stretched out. "You should have said something Macey," he said through a yawn before rubbing his eyes.
Macey shrugged, leaning against his doorframe. "I figured you'd remember," she said, rocking back on her heels. "Dad's already up and over at the Gym. It's almost seven," she glanced at the clock above Forrester's bed. "I already asked him if I could hang out at the Gym for a while. Since you're the last one up . . . you get to look through the City for him!"
With a laugh echoing in the hallway, Macey disappeared, her footsteps heavy on the stairs. Forrester sighed, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to wake up.
6:50 a.m. – he hadn't been up this early since Brock was the Gym Leader.
Shaking his head to dispel the thought, Forrester picked himself up off the bed, his mind racing already.
Macey was staying at the Gym today, waiting, and hoping, that the trainer she spoke to last night would wander through the front door. Meanwhile, Forrester got the job of looking around all of Pewter City.
He figured he should start at the Pokemon Center – maybe Nurse Joy had seen someone who fit Macey's description. Then, he thought he might check out the Pokemon Museum; Brock had always been interested in that, helping out with the funding that was originally needed to make the Museum run before it could function financially on its own.
As he got dressed though, Forrester still wasn't sure what he would do if it wasn't Brock.
# # #
Cole followed along behind May, the brunette talking about how she was starting out on her Pokemon journey – she wanted a Torchic – and that she wasn't really interested in battling and competing in the Hoenn League, but she'd been to afraid to tell her parents that. She talked about her hometown of Petalburg City and her parents.
"My father's a Gym Leader," she said with a shrug. "There was really no way I could tell him I didn't want to go. I kind of think mom knew though," she paused, Oldale Town before them. "What about your mom?"
"Hmm, Erika used her connections to get me into the Pokemon Academy; she seemed excited though when I asked if I could go to Hoenn for the summer . . ."
Something didn't seem to connect though, as if the puzzle pieces didn't quite fit.
He seemed to remember a woman with red hair, always watching over him, telling him he could be anything he wanted . . .
"Erika? No way, your mom lets you call her by her first name?" May said, cutting through his thoughts.
"No, she's my . . ." What was Erika to him anyway? "Guardian," he finished, unsure.
"I see . . ." May said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Do you have any siblings then? I have a little brother named Max, he can be a pain though – he thinks he knows more than I do!"
Yet again, the red-haired girl and the brown-haired guy flashed through his mind. "No, I don't think I have any siblings."
"Wait, what?" May asked, the Pokemon Center's automatic doors opening up for them with a ding. "You don't think . . . I wish I could forget about Max sometimes!" Cole laughed awkwardly with her, unsure what else to say. "You're a strange one, Cole."
Cole paused, watching as the brunette walked up to the Nurse's station, discussing her bike with Joy as she pointed to the bike leaning against the windows. Frowning slightly, Cole sunk down onto the nearby couch, the television playing lowly overhead.
He tried to picture the people that flashed through his memories; two red-haired women – were they his mother and sister? Maybe the other teen was his best friend? Letting out a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair, letting his head drop into his hands.
"It's sad, huh?" May said as she reappeared before him, hands in her pockets.
"Hmm?" Cole said; his thoughts a mile away.
"The Saint Anne, it's been a year since it sunk over in Kanto. It's just a news recap," she said, the television flipping back to the news anchor. "You ready to go though? It should only take us about fifteen minutes to get there. I really appreciate you coming with me," May added, smiling.
"Do you know anything about the Saint Anne?" Cole asked, the automatic doors opening for them.
"No, just that it sunk and no one knows why," May said with a shrug. "Wait, you're from Kanto, shouldn't you know all this?"
"Come on - we got to go, the ship is sinking!"
"The ships hull is up above our head and the deck is below us."
"It's like the story of Noah and the Ark, he sends out a bird and it brings back a twig."
"I've heard tales about Gyardos, its dragon rage. We can't outrun it . . ."
"Oh no, -, -, hold on!"
"Yeah . . ." he trailed off, aware of May's intense stare. "Erika never mentioned . . . I've been too busy training at the Pokemon Academy."
May nodded, shrugging. "I see, well, I guess you'll have to ask her when you see her again. Ah, there's Littleroot Town – come on!" May yelled, grabbing for Cole's hand before running down the slight incline into the town.
# # #
"Knock, knock," Melody said, opening the door as she knocked. "Hey there Misty . . ."
Melody had no idea what to say to her, she wasn't used to dealing with depressed people. She usually left that up to Karol as she tended to slip her headphones on and then disappear outside.
The red-head laid on the bed, her back to Melody. The blinds in the room were drawn shut against the morning sun, the only light coming from the light in the hallway. Melody sighed, her expression unreadable as she stared at Misty.
"Bill's making breakfast in the living room," Melody tried again, venturing into the room. "You have to eat something –"
"Go away."
Melody paused, her lips pressed together so she wouldn't snap at the still girl. "I have something you might want to look at," she tried again, forcing her voice to be happy. "Bill printed it off his computer for me yesterday."
She pulled the papers from her back pocket, unfolding it. After racing away from Bill's computer lab last night, the papers still hot in her hand from the printer, she had stopped outside Misty's closed door – opting to show her the papers in the morning. It would be easier to let the red-head sleep on her new memories before asking her more questions.
"I don't want to read about the sinking."
Misty didn't even look up as Melody came around the corner of the bed.
"I didn't want you to read anything, but whatever," Melody said, dropping the folded papers on the dresser. "I want to ask you about someone," she continued slowly, her back to Misty as she reached to draw the blind up. Misty remained silent, as if she was waiting for Melody to say something. "Do you remember Jessie Smith?"
"Jessie-"
"Oh! I have a picture in my bag," Melody cut in, before Misty could continue. "Hold on a second."
Turning on her heel, Melody reached for the small backpack she had tossed on the dresser the previous night. Misty raised an eyebrow sitting up in slight interest as Melody grabbed her bag, tossing it on the mattress a moment later.
"I don't think I do," she said again, as Melody tossed some things out of her bag.
Naturally, her mind had gone right to Jessie of Team Rocket, but she knew it couldn't be true. She couldn't allow herself to think that the others had survived as well. She wouldn't let her hopes get raised – even knowing Team Rocket was alive would –
"Here it is!" Melody shouted triumphantly, pulling out a small photo album. "I couldn't leave home without it," she added, opening the book, flipping through the pages. "Well, there's my sister and I . . . oh, ignore that picture, it's of our annual celebration – I hate wearing those stupid costumes. That's my house, my parents, ah! This was taken last year for our annual celebration – that's Jessilina!"
With a flourish, Melody thrust the album at Misty.
Misty took the album, her cerulean eyes focusing on the photo. Melody stood to the right, large sunglasses perched on her nose, earphones hanging around her neck, and her hands shoved in her pockets. Beside her stood another girl who short brown hair, who Misty assumed was Melody's sister, a smile on her face, her arm thrown around the girl standing beside her.
Glancing at the other girl in the picture, her hands trembling, Misty let out a gasp of surprise.
Staring back at her; was Jessie.
She had gotten rid of her long red hair, her hair now resting just above her shoulders. Her large green earrings were gone, and instead of her usual scowl was a large smile – as if she was actually enjoying herself, laughing about something. She wore a yellow tank top and a pair of khaki shorts; it looked different seeing her in something other than her Team Rocket uniform.
"It's her," Misty said in disbelief. "Jessie's alive, but how?"
Melody shook her head, sitting down in the chair opposite the bed. "She was found on the shore of Shamoutti Islands, in the Orange Islands, she was just washed ashore after a major storm we had. It was just in time for our annual celebration of honoring trainers and their Pokemon, so we thought she was a trainer. She had no memories of anything though, and she didn't seem to have anywhere to go. Elder Samantha, that's my grandmother, offered her a place to stay."
Misty looked back at Melody, taking in everything she said.
"Does she remember?"
Melody closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Nothing, it's just an empty slate. She spoke about a James in her sleep in the beginning –"
"James," Misty shook her head. "What happened to us, it was all their fault –"
"Wait, they sunk the ship?"
Misty shook her head. "Not directly, but it's a long story," She just didn't want to get into it, the fine details of everything were still a touch foggy. "But, is she happy?"
Melody rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "That's an understatement! She took a couple classes at our Community College and she actually ended up on television! Jessilina co-hosts a daily morning show with a guy named Danny from Naval Island."
Melody took the album from Misty, flipping the page. Jessie was sitting up on a chair, her hair and make-up done perfectly, looking at the camera as she spoke into a microphone. In the chair beside her was a brown-haired man, dressed up neatly as well, smiling at the audience as well. Misty assumed that that was the other co-host, Danny.
"She's a television host," Misty echoed.
Jessie did always seem to like to be the center of attention; what with their silly motto, the costumes they wore, and how annoyed she would get when they pretended to ignore them. "It suits her."
". . . do you want to go to Shamoutti Islands?" Melody asked after a moment.
Misty shook her head, no. "She looks happy; I don't want to destroy that for her. Reminding her of James would just be cruel . . . she should just stay were she is . . ."
Melody wondered idly if Misty knew about Jessie's past, and if that was why she wanted the other girl to happy in the new life she had created for herself – oblivious to what she had gone through previous.
"Okay," Melody said, taking the album back and closing it. "If you change your mind though, just let me know – I can get us there in no time," she added, tossing the album into her backpack. "What are you going to do now?"
Misty shook her head. "I – I don't know, but I am hungry."
Melody let out a laugh. "Come on, Bill made breakfast."
# # #
Forrester wasn't having a lot of luck.
He had stopped off at the Pokemon Center first, that was where most of the trainers who were challenging the Gym stayed while in town. He was hoping that Nurse Joy wouldn't be at the desk; he didn't want to see the pity in her eyes. But, luck wasn't on his side as Nurse Joy was at the desk, the lobby practically empty of trainers at this early in the day.
And just like he thought, he could see the pity in Nurse Joy's eyes as he asked her about the person Macey had seen, who looked similar to himself.
"Sorry," Nurse Joy had said, a sad smile on her face. "I haven't seen anyone like that."
Forrester nodded, knowing what Nurse Joy was thinking. When they had first heard that Brock had been aboard the Saint Anne – the kids had all done exactly what Forrester was doing now. They had gone around the town asking everyone who came into town over Mount Moon and posted pictures around the town. All they wanted was their brother back.
And now, a year later, in their eyes, he was doing the same thing now.
Macey had called his Poke gear after an hour, saying that the first couple trainers had come in, but none of them matched her description. "But, I won't give up!" Macey chirped, disconnecting from him moments later.
Forrester had wracked his brain as he tried to put himself into Brock's shoes, trying to think of locations Brock would visit. After leaving the Pokemon Center, he walked down to Diglett's Cave, stopping on the outskirts of Viridean Forest. Dejectedly, Forrester made his way back to Pewter City, trying to debate where to look next in the city.
"Hey!" Forrester's head jerked up at the shout, but not seeing anyone he knew and the subdivisions to his right; kept going. "Hey! Didn't you hear me? Seriously!"
A hand landed on Forrester's shoulder, grabbing a fistful on his shirt, stopping the teen in his tracks. Forrester jumped as he felt the hand, stopping him in place. His hand fell to his belt, his hands closing around the Poke ball with his Cubone in it.
He paused, blinking as he noticed a blonde girl standing behind him, a straw hat perched on the top of her head. "I heard you in the Pokemon Center earlier – you're looking for a kid that looks like you, right?"
Forrester nodded, slowly. "Yeah, I'm looking for my brother."
The girl nodded, holding her hat as the wind rushed around them, her yellow skirt ruffling. "I just came over Mount Moon last night, I'm pretty sure that I saw someone who looked like you, maybe?" She laughed awkwardly. "He was heading towards the Museum over there, you should check that out!"
Forrester nodded, glancing at the roof of the Museum that was visible over the downtown core. "The Museum . . ." he nodded, his mind racing. "Thanks."
"No problem," the girl said, Forrester suddenly distracted. "Hope you find him." There wasn't any point to mention she had once battled Brock for a Boulder Badge.
Forrester turned over the girls' words in his mind, his dark eyes trained on the Museum's roof, his hands clenched into fists before letting them go. His thoughts went briefly to Macey – but he didn't want to bring her in case it wasn't Brock.
Lost in his thoughts, he wasn't sure when, but before he knew it, he was running. The storefronts flashed by him as he weaved his way through the crowds on the sidewalk – ignoring their calls of annoyance – and then, he was racing along the grass lawn that led up to the Museum.
And then he stopped.
He could feel his heart beating in his chest, his hands clenched into fists as he stared at the brown building, the words Museum above the door, an Aerodactyl silhouette behind it.
Could Brock be here?
Shaking his head, he couldn't stop here, he willed himself to walk across the parking lot, and push the Museum door open. Subconsciously, he flashed his pass to the receptionist sitting at the desk, glancing around the open space.
The collection of the ancient Pokémon's bones stood before him; Kabutops to his right and Aerodactyl to his left, Omantye up on a pedestal between the two. Forrester shook his head, he could picture Brock helping the Curator setting it up, he had been so happy doing that.
Forrester and his siblings hadn't come to the Museum in the past year; they hadn't wanted to be reminded of Brock, their brother having helped out on gathering so many of the collections.
Instead, Forrester turned on his heel, walking back to the Curator. "Hey Rena, you haven't seen anyone unusual around here, have you?"
Rena looked up from her computer screen, an eyebrow raised. "Anyone unusual – that's way to vague Forrester," she laughed, smiling at him. "Although, I guess you could count as unusual, you haven't been here for a while."
Forrester nodded idly, Rena wasn't even aware of how close she was to the answer he wanted. "I mean besides me," he said, feeling her questioning stare. "Macey thought she saw someone unusual in front of our house yesterday –"
"Are the paparazzi still coming around?" Rena asked, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, they should just leave you all alone, despite that it was around –" she stopped midsentence, casting Forrester a glance.
He waved her concern aside. "Don't worry about it; it's been a year . . ." he shook his head. "I just wanted to check out the places that were tied to Brock in some way; I didn't want anything to happen."
"Well, thanks Forrester," Rena grinned. "Our security is pretty decent, but extra eyes are always good too."
Forrester nodded, heading past the desk. "Well, you know our number if anything does go wrong here," Rena nodded, her attention wavering back to her computer screen. "At least this will put Macey's mind at ease."
He heard Rena mumble something about Macey, she had always clung so tightly to Brock.
As the automatic doors closed behind him, Forrester let out a sigh. While the tip from the girl in yellow had been a start, it had let him down. The only thing of interest up here was the Museum, no one ever really went to the . . .
Forrester paused, his eyes widening slightly.
The Old Mill . . .
Sure, it had been abandoned over ten years ago, but hadn't their father, Flint, stayed up there, watching his family at a distance?
And then there was Ash . . . hadn't he mentioned training his Pikachu at an old mill?
It couldn't be . . .
Shaking his head, Forrester started down the sidewalk in front of the Museum, and glancing at his surroundings to make sure no one was watching him and there was no security cameras trained on the area, Forrester reached for the chain link fence, easily vaulting over it.
Inwardly he made a note, reminding himself to mention that the Museum needed some kind of outside security – that was just too easy. What if the awful organization Team Rocket had found that out first?
Ducking low so he wouldn't be spotted through the ground level windows, Forrester went as fast as he could, his eyes trained on the mill that was hidden behind the tree line. Once free from the side of the Museum – the back having few windows, only a couple empty picnic tables for the workers' breaks – Forrester made a run for it.
A stream was to his right, running merrily down its path unaware of the world around it as it fought its way towards the ocean. Forrester paid little attention to the stream as he trained his eyes on the trees, his heart hammering in his chest.
If no one was there, it would prove that Macey was wrong.
That Brock was really dead, and that was only another person . . .
Taking a deep breath as his footsteps slowed, Forrester disappeared into the dense trees, out of sight. The stream was still to his right, and after a couple minutes of walking over tree roots and greenery, the trees started to thin and there before him was the old mill.
The exterior was just like he remembered it – a wooden cabin and a rickety, wooden wheel that slowly moved with the stream rushing through it.
Closing his eyes momentarily to prepare himself, Forrester let out a breath he didn't know he was holding before moving forward.
It's going to be nothing, he told himself. It's just going to be an empty, dusty room, the footprints of dad long lost to time.
Forrester came to a stop before the mills' cabin, the wooden door a foot in front of him. He couldn't stop himself, as he reached for the door, his hand was shaking.
It was now or ever – he pushed the door open with a loud creak.
And just like that – his world came crashing down.
###
A/N –
Horrible place to leave it, but, we'll see where this leads too soon . . .
The person that pointed Forrester towards the Museum is supposed to be Yellow from the manga's. I've been wracking my brain for random trainers that they ran into in their journey/movies for a cameo so that I don't have to make up characters.
Alas, R&R!