"My, Gary, what shiny badges you have"

Ignoring the intense moistness of his jeans, the severe shock in his system and anything that could be regarded as common sense, Ash stopped dead in his tracks and looked around where he stood. His pet Pikachu was slowly allowing consciousness to take control of its system, not really recalling anything from the last two hours as it puzzled over its present situation. Misty still sobbed and shook violently, requiring Brock's help to support her body weight as they stared back at their friend. She couldn't place her finger on it but there was something about his manner that made fear return in full force although there was no menace in his stance. Then, with even more horror striking her panic-ridden pre-pubescent flat chest, she recognised that look. It was the same look he took on when they made up the competition less than an hour ago. She burst into fresh tears as he turned around stomping off the way he came muttering "Grrrr that Gary!" Brock wished the other boy's geographical bearings were that accurate when he wasn't riled up, and wondered why he'd suddenly chosen to remember what had sent them off walking in the dead of night now of all times. Begrudgingly, they followed their companion back to the nightmare scenario, screaming at him to turn around while they still could leave alive. In response, all they got were mutterings of how his badges were the shiniest around, so shiny in fact that a group of Murkrow had once swiped them and that stupid Gary couldn't claim the same. He also then mentally decided he would win a badge just for possessing the shiniest collection of said items, indicating he was a master in every aspect. Grrrr that Gary! Neither Brock nor Misty understood how in a situation like theirs, he could resume his haughty chuckling and wide-stance walk.

James' words aggravated Mihrasta for no reason other than the male daring to utter a word in its presence, as what he said made little sense. If Jessie had the ability to release something other than an agonised groan she would have asked him what he was thinking, so instead reckoned he'd lost his grip on sanity with the trauma he'd suffered. Her skin was clammy from the cold sweat resulting from her chest injury, a panic attack rising within as she worried about the blood gushing into her t-shirt, wondering if she had the strength to take over applying pressure to her heart when her former partner's ran out. Since he spoke, she noticed a distinct lack of force in his hands and she panicked more, knowing that he was extremely close to death. A faint moan was all she could muster when she attempted to say his name, frustration causing her tears to splash against his knuckles.

When their glances met, her whole world crumbled away from beneath her feet upon seeing the lack of expression in his eyes; she could usually read his thoughts and emotions like a book through them. He found it immensely difficult to focus on her even though there was less than a foot of space between their faces, as if a film was rapidly coating his sclerotic layers. He knew all too well how quickly life faded from his significantly weakened body and this scared him greatly, but strangely it was not the notion of drawing his last breath. He was frightened of dying and Jessie being unable to maintain sufficient pressure to stem the wound until she received the required proper medical assistance. He was terrified she'd forget the many happy times they shared together and choose to recall only this horrific time in their lives when she thought of him, if she did at all. What upset him the most, however, was knowing that if he used his final sources of energy to kiss her like he so badly wanted to do, he knew she'd pull away before his lips even touched hers. He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was, they became lost in the chaos that suddenly ensued around them.

Mihrasta's energy was as fully recuperated as its situation would allow; it had never once assumed the backup in its mother's body would be under threat before it could successfully reunite itself when all of its output was at a maximum. Its strength was still formidable and its enemies were weakened to a satisfactory extent. The stunning blow its head received inadvertently from Jessie's sudden regain of mental power had subsided enough for it to launch another attack. Snarling furiously, it pounced towards the male's exposed, bloody back mere feet away from where it had been with claws unsheathed, determined to make him pay for its current situation. What really irked Mihrasta, however, was knowing this time it would not toy with its prey before allowing it death; too many disasters had occurred in the last hour to permit the chance of more appearing.

Mihrasta's attack did not connect. Mere moments before its claws could have shredded the tender flesh of the human, an unseen assault countered it and delivered a blow of admirable force to its upper cheekbone. Twisting its body as it landed added another sharp stab of pain to its spinal column, but with the volumes of adrenaline pulsing through Mihrasta's body it went unnoticed. Releasing a feral growl, it faced off against an equally fatigued-looking Meowth, who in turn hissed and spat back, wagging his fluffed-out tail venomously. Any trace of how he'd been unable to concentrate on anything other than how he'd attacked his partner was clearly absent, intently focused instead on destroying the beast before him. He did not notice the discomfort created by his ears being flat to his skull or the fact that he was on all fours, something quite unnatural to him since he'd taught himself to walk all those years ago. Not giving Mihrasta sufficient time to regain its balance from the last attack, Meowth lunged forwards venomously, knowing that he had to take any opening he was given to have a hope of winning this bloody onslaught.

Upon seeing the creature lurching towards her partner, Jessie shrieked and involuntarily jolted backwards, causing James to fall with her as his weight was resting on her. The force of his graceless landing pressed her harder onto a root (incidentally part of the same tree she had unwittingly sent through his body) and the dull throb in her lower back acted as a deterrent from the agony in her chest. He struggled to raise his body off hers, knowing it would be far from comfortable for her in their present status, and it was seeing this, after all that had happened that night, she realised he would never be capable of hurting her wittingly in any sense.

Ignoring their extreme injuries and multiple pools of their blood mingling together, she moved as easily as she could into a more upright position and covered his blood-covered lips with her own. She panicked when he did not respond and croaked his name in a pitiful decibel, relieved at his eyes moving to show a reaction. A hint of emotion was at last visible in his glazed eyes, one she felt shame for forgetting when she recognised it; he'd shown it when they'd spent the night together. The somewhat fogged memory surfaced in a ray of horror as she remembered him definitely saying 'No one will love you the way I do'. Tears of a new variety flowed down her drenched cheeks, knowing that if he died now as she feared he would, he would never know about her memory being altered and their hell was completely over nothing. She kissed him again, fretting mentally about how cold his body was becoming without a second thought about to what degree hers was following suit, praying he'd show some sign of knowing she was sincere.

Part of her wondered why she could act so brazenly when their lives were in peril. She wanted his shallow breathing to be as it had been when they'd given in to lust and due to nothing more serious. She wanted his hands touching her from his desire, not because he lacked the required strength to move them himself. She wanted him to be sky-clad over her by his own choice and not covered in serious wounds by her doing, whether she was in control at the time it happened or not. More than anything else, she wanted that promise he made of never leaving her to come true, now that her memories were complete she wanted to hear them again to make sure it hadn't been a dream created by her suppressed subconscious. As if to acknowledge her mental wishes, he finally responded the way she wanted, and faintly moved her fingertips along where they rested on her abdomen, recalling the extent to which she'd admitted liking it. At the exact moment of this action, however, something completely unexpected happened which created a more bizarre chain of events.

The adrenaline raised in Meowth's body from the ongoing battle with the demonic pokémon caused his level to rise and he did something he would never have dreamed possible in what remained of his nine lives. Coins rained down from the heavens relentlessly as the weary cat-type had finally mastered Pay Day, pounding the hide of the demon mercilessly. Blood splashed as the metal tore repeatedly into the weakened creature and its skin hissed as the metal touched it, which surprisingly pleased Meowth. He did not dare move from his stance until he was positive there was no risk of an attack from behind, painfully aware how near to death his comrades were. Part of him was sickened by their chosen time to reconcile their differences, particularly when he still remembered seeing Jessie's fresh wounds James had personally delivered.

He was shaken out of his scathing notions by hearing a new pitiful wail behind him. Risking the time to glance backwards furtively, he did a double take at seeing Ash with tears on his cheek. The tears he cried were not from anguish, horror or anything to be expected; he simply wailed that his badges weren't sullied by blood and thus shinier than anything that grrr that Gary could ever acquire. In a huff, the pre-adolescent hurled an empty pokéball at Mihrasta, ranting like a lunatic of how it would not have the chance to bleed on his badges. With a final inhuman high-pitched shriek, the creature lost its grasp on its body as the confining metal walls of the ball pressed down on its body. The pokéball dissolved as the demon spirit was slaughtered within, leaving a hole in the ground where the steaming remains of the orb remained. Meowth did not dare blink even once as the scene unfolded before him; he believed it too easy an end to their ordeal. Finally, when the metal was stone cold again he padded across to his partners, to see if there was anything he could do to help.

He tried valiantly to ignore Ash's self-assured laughter and declarations that he was going to seek out a badge for having shiny badges before that Gary ever could; were it not for the extreme gravity of the situation, he would probably have handed the newly-conscious Pikachu a noose to end the shame he undoubtedly felt, and he subconsciously pitied the rat-type for having to perform gestures of approval even though he could taste its cringing at doing it from there. Pikachu wished Ash had never saved its life; the gratitude it had made itself feel toward its owner was the key to his own undoing. In exchange for being allowed to live outside of its pokéball, it had stupidly agreed to take victory stance lessons from Ash. Every day it had prayed Team Rocket would catch it and throw it in the experiment chambers; no pain could be worse than what he already endured. It wanted to check its adversaries' conditions but knew that it was unlikely to be an option while the laughter and pose remained. Its paw was really starting to hurt now from holding up the victory sign.

Misty violently vomited as she stumbled into the clearing with Brock upon seeing all the fresh blood in the area. He would probably have followed suit if his body hadn't used up all of his energy banks creating scenes of perverse enjoyment in his snatched hours of sleep earlier. He rubbed her back to try and soothe her, hoping it would ease the nausea in some way similar to how he used to make one of his countless younger siblings feel better. Then again, they'd suffered from colic at worst, not from witnessing a scene from a horror film. She hated thinking about how she felt about James; somehow in this carnage she found the time to hate Jessie for not being stuck in the body of a scrawny straw haired boy as she noticed their position. She pulled Brock closer to her to try and remain standing with his support, and mentally wondered if her foes were alive; they did not seem to be moving. Swallowing a few times to ease her parched throat, she attempted to pose the question to her pale-faced friend.

"Do you think they're…?"

Abruptly, Ash stopped his inane laughter at this sound; he did not like his triumphant moments ruined by idle chat. Pikachu flopped to the ground, mewing piteously as it grasped its victory arm, willing circulation to flow through its veins once more.