Ken burst into the Oldale Pokèmon Center, a deep cut running along his pant leg, stained red with blood. The little chick was trembling violently, but not as much as he, though perhaps just as badly injured. His voice shaky and something less than calm, he instantly locked gazes with the red headed nurse, identified by her stereotypical clothing.
"I… I need your help."
The Pokèmon Center was rather spacious despite the town's relative lack of population. The inside was all soft and light colors, a faint but not unpleasant medical scent filling the air. Brightly lit by fluorescent lights overhead, it revealed several features of the room. A PC in the corner of the room, two square and modestly sized tables with four simple chairs each, a counter, stairs leading up, and stairs leading down. Behind the counter was a nurse, and behind her, slightly off to the side, was a Blissey. A few trainers stood in line, no doubt waiting to get their Pokemon healed. Upon his entry, everyone turned to look at him.
His voice was hesitant, unsure of how to proceed. Aforementioned nurse quickly waved him forward, and Ken moved past people in less critical condition than he. She held out her hands for his Pokèmon, and, quickly, he handed Torchic over. No matter how irrationally attached he'd grown to her in short time, she needed professional care. The nurse, pale skinned and wearing a nametag that labeled her "Joy" took the battered and bruised little Pokèmon with gentle hands. She then transferred Torchic to a Blissey, who rushed her away, and Ken stepped aside to allow the other Trainers their spot back, mumbling apology.
"Please, allow one of our staff to tend to your wounds." The nurse spoke up.
For a moment, Ken was confounded. In his adrenaline driven flee from danger, he'd somehow failed to notice the slash delivered to his lower leg. Now that he saw it, the gash began to hurt, natural speed in his veins wearing off, making him wince and feel oddly tired.
"Yeah… alright then."
"Just through there, and a Chansey should see to your leg."
Joy then turned her sapphire gaze back to the front Trainer, quickly apologizing in a soft tone, and then going about her job again. No one made active complaint of the extended wait they had to go through to get their Pokèmon healed caused by Ken's barge in, making him wonder if they knew him. The son of the Champion.
As he started to walk towards the side door Joy had mentioned that was a few feet in front of the counter, he witnessed the standard process of healing minor wounds. The Trainer offered Joy a Pokèball. She placed it into a machine with six semi-sphere slots, and more specifically, one of those slots. Two buttons pressed, a humming sound, a few seconds, and the ball was returned to the Trainer. The line moved along.
Thank the gods for technology… He thought to himself.
The line moved along, and so did he. Pushing open the swinging door, he was greeted almost immediately by a Chansey that had been waiting in the hallway, who said something in Pokèspeak, and began to lead him down the hall. He didn't need to pull out the Dex to know that she'd instructed him to follow.
"My Pokèmon…" He said, a little weaker than he'd have liked to. "Will she be okay?"
"Chansey. Chansey Chan?"
Sighing, Ken pulled the Dex out. "Could you say that again?"
Certainly. Depends on the situation. What happened? I wasn't informed.
Three words and she pulls out multiple sentences. Their language is so much more efficient than English… He thought to himself before entering the door she'd opened for him near the end of the hall. Inside was a simple room, much resembling like one of a hospital. Small, a white bed, a possibly fake plant in the corner, offline health monitoring machines, and a TV mounted opposite the bed, no doubt for patients who got too bored for their own good.
Sitting down on the bed as she motioned, he cleared his throat and responded.
"Well… to get to the juicy bits, she got caught in a battle that was beyond her, and the trainer wasn't smart enough to call her back. She got attacked beyond unconsciousness."
I'm sorry to hear that, but rest assured, we're quite capable. Your Pokèmon should be okay. Now, could you please remove your lower garments?
Restraining a blush, he did so as directed, placing them neatly folded on the white tile floor. The cut was deep, but hadn't damaged anything vital. Chansey, calm and clinical, produced a first aid kit from under the bed and applied styptic and disinfectant to the gash before starting to bandage it up.
In his waiting, he forced himself to look back at what had happened, so he could rethink his future strategy. He'd known he was pushing the Torchic to her limits, but so close to Oldale, he decided against using his Potions. Just before they could break from the tall grass, a Poochenya ambushed them. Misjudging its strength, he led a hopeless battle.
Torchic had gotten the first move, but the agile little dark dog managed to avoid the talons of his Pokèmon, and countered with a tackle that was strong enough to knock her out. The situation rapidly deteriorated as Poochenya grabbed Torchic by the neck and shook her about wildly. Ken threw himself into combat and managed to wrestle the poor chick away from the canine before any critical wounds could be sustained, but not before she did indeed get some nasty puncture wounds, and he himself received a retreating strike upon the back of his calf.
There you are… good as new. Try not to run any marathons, and it should heal up fine.
He was startled from his thoughts by the kind words of the Chansey. Smiling weakly to her, he nodded, then looked to his ruined pants.
If you'd like, I could try to repair your garments. In the meanwhile, feel free to borrow a pair from the Center.
"Really? Wow… yes, please, thank you."
She rushed off to fulfill his wishes. He was dumbstruck. They were so kind here… he was vastly impressed, and wished that future Pokèmon Centers would be similar. He sat a little farther back on the bed and crossed his legs, a little embarrassed from wearing nothing more than a pair of whitish blue boxers. True to her word, she returned with a pair of adjustable blue pants, and gave them to Ken before gathering up his bloodied jeans and rushing off. However, before exiting, she turned to Ken.
I shall return when your Torchic is well… or, if you'd like, I could lead you to her. I checked on her before coming back. She's doing alright, if a little weak at the moment.
More gratitude. "I'd love to, yes."
Getting up, favoring his right leg, he walked after her, Dex still in hand. She opened the door for him, and closed it behind him before walking along a short way and taking a left side door just before they would normally re-enter the main room of the Center. Another hallway, similar to the last, at the end, nothing more than a small painting of sorts, whose content he could not determine at a distance. Torchic's room was the first on the right, but before entering, Chansey spoke in a low tone.
She'll have to stay overnight, given her condition. I hope it's not a problem.
"No, no, of course not. Thank you, for everything. You're the best." He smiled, a little more noticeably than before.
Returning the smile, she proceeded back down the hall, and Ken opened the door slowly. She was tiny compared to the human sized bed, and just as seeing her made his heart jump a little in joy, equally, it sank as he spotted the bandages. She must have been awake, because upon his entry and closing of the door, she cracked open an eye and chirped to him weakly. More heartbreak.
This is your fault. Don't let it happen again.
Hi, Ken.
"Hey, honey…" He walked up to her bed, and sat down close to her.
Are you okay?
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a scratch. How about you?"
Tired, but I'm okay. I'm sorry I couldn't win for you.
It tore him up inside, and he had to restrain some emotion. "Hey… don't worry about it, 'kay? You can't defeat the whole world without taking a break."
I'd do anything for you… I'm so sorry.
"I-If you'd do anything, then how about you cheer up and forget about it? Tomorrow, we'll head back out, and you can prove your worth then. Okay?"
Okay. I won't let you down again. Promise.
Ken leaned over and gave her a small kiss on the forehead. "I know you won't. Now… get some rest, okay?"
Sure.
As he began to stand up and limp towards the door, he heard another 'Torchic' sound from behind him, and he looked down to the Dex.
Ken?
He turned. "Yes, Torchic?"
Do you think maybe you could stay here with me?
Mental facepalm. "Yes, of course."
Ken walked back over to her and settled down back to where he was. No more words exchanged between them. He reached out and pet across her head gently, causing her to close her eyes contently in response. Within a minute, she was out like a light. And he, feeling a tidal wave of drowsiness smash into him with all the force of a semi-truck driven by Mr. Sandman, lied down beside her and fell asleep.