I am a pantser.

I have been a pantser for as long as I could remember. I never plotted, it didn't help me. It got me all bored and then I lost inspiration and just quit the novel. I didn't complete half the novels I wrote. But suddenly I… don't want to be a pantser! I want to plot. I plotted out one story and now I'm addicted to it! I'm pantsing this story and I keep losing my train of thought on the whole thing.

It's not like I pantsed from the beginning. I plotted it out completely at first, but then I went and lost the paper all my plotting was on. I was so frustrated I didn't bother to try and rewrite it, and now I don't have time. Between nanoing, working and all that other fun/boring stuff!

But I'll just keep writing… lots of fillers… with suspenseful plot thrown in there like spice… until the election kekekekeke.

What was that? Nothing at all! On to the reviews!

Sapphiet: I bet you there backs do break, and they are just propped up and stuffed! While killing him would be a good plot teaser, I think I'll have to follow along with my slim idea of what's actually going to happen. Too bad. ETHAN WILL NEVER LEAVE HER ALONE CAUSE HE'S IN LUUURRRVVVEEEE! …Hehe :I Bruno is dead cause he is the first of the many deaths I have planned out, cause I'm going to put my characters through hell. Yay! *claps* Thanks for the review, they always make me smile!

Izzzzie: Haha that's what I was going for :3 I was kind of worried about how people would react to that. Bruno wasn't a very big character, but he was certainly a random death, if anything! Thanks for the review!

Iluvskittlesxp: Since he's not going to play a role in the actual plottiness of the story, I can't guarantee that I will be able to fit Red into the book, but I'm trying to see a place where he'll fit right in ;) Since I love him to! Thanks for the review!

Splitheart1120: But she is!~ That is the horror of it! KEKEKEKE! All I can say is keep reading to find out, and thanks for the review ;)

It's really late while I'm typing this up x.x I swear to god…

One question… Ethan or Silver? (In Lyra relationship sense.)

Disclaimer: I own naught a thing about Pokémon.

Chapter 7

I'll kill them, was the only thought in my mind, the amount of anger making my hands shake.

They'd shot him, straight through the head, an instant death, before carving a large 'R' into his chest with some sort of jagged knife. Then they'd just dumped him in an alley in Blackthorn. He'd probably been on his way to the dance, but no one had known for sure if he was actually going to make it. He'd been saying that he might be going to see family that night.

So no one had thought anything of it when he didn't show.

Anger, guilt and sadness. They weighed down on me, my head spinning, my hands clasped tightly around the back of the chair I was standing behind. Lance sat in it, his head in his hands, dressed in pure black clothes but without a cloak. He hadn't spiked his hair and it laid flat around his skull, making him look gaunt and lost.

I was just as much a mess. I had showered in the morning, yet I still felt dirty, like the death had contaminated me. My long, black dress shifted around my legs, my black outfit making me look ghastly pale. My hair fell around my shoulders in thin wave, instead of pulled up into a bun like usual.

The funeral was over, all there was left to do was bury him, and that didn't involve us. People were already starting to leave, heading for their cars, swiping tears from their eyes and murmuring about how sad it was for him to die so abruptly in life.

Karen sobbed, looking less composed then I'd ever seen her, and Will just sat beside her, staring with blank eyes at the slowly filling in grave. His mask was purely black. Everything was black. Everything.

Wendy hadn't come and I didn't blame her. She hadn't known him personally, but she still took it as if her own daughter had died. Sobbing and snotting all over her pillows. She'd said she would come and felt so guilty when I told her not to, because she'd only be a train wreck of a girl once she got here.

I'd done my fair share of crying. At the wake, at home, in the arms of all my friends. Now, all I felt like doing was finding those Team Rocket members and murdering them, just as brutally as they had murdered Bruno. I'd never revelled in blood, but for the first time in my life I wanted to feel of someone else's life force on my fingers, slippery and wet.

I was so guilty, because I should have kept an eye on him; made sure he arrived safely or went to see family. I felt like if I hadn't been so tied up in my own drama, this would never have happened, and one of my friends would still be alive. I should have done something. Anything.

Tears sprung to my eyes and I fought them back down. If I cried, Lance would cry, and if Lance cried, then the whole structure of our group would fall and crumble, leaving us as a sobbing, sniffling mess.

I slowly let go of the back of Lance's chair, turning and walking in the opposite direction, away from that gaping, black hole in the ground that my friend was being left in to rot. A familiar figure stood in the shadows of the trees to the left of the cemetery, and I made a beeline for her.

"I'm… so sorry, honey."

My mother's soothing voice almost broke me, and I let out a small hiccup as she wrapped her arms around me. She was shorter than me, only standing at around my knee, but she had my hair and my eyes. In everything except for height, I was the complete recreation of my mother.

"He's… he's dead, mum…"

"I know honey, and it's the hardest thing you'll ever be put through, this losing a friend business."

"It's my fault."

"Never, death can never be blamed on someone, unless it's the actual person that killed them." My mom had had a lot of death in her days, I knew that, whether it be my father, her own friends or her old Pokémon team. I'd never known any of them, even my father, so it didn't affect me, but sometimes I saw it in her eyes. A sort of… knowledge.

I slowly let my mom go, taking a step back and looking down into her brown eyes. She was getting old, little wrinkles starting to appear on her face and grey streaking the hair on her head, but she was spritely, and I knew she'd be here for a long, long time.

"I just… want to go home right now." Mom looked at me and gave an understanding nod, her lips turned down into a little, worried frown.

"Of course, sweetheart. We'll get you straight to your house."

"Not my house, mom. Home." Understanding lit her eyes up and she gave me a more radiant smile.

"You'll have to deal with Kris and Morty's kid."

I gave a small smile, "I think I'll manage."

New Bark Town had a feeling of familiarity to it. It was like stepping into a comforting atmosphere as soon as we arrived and for a moment I just stood there, letting it all wash over me, hearing the sentrets and pidgeys playing in the bushes.

Then… "Ly! Ly!"

I opened my eyes to see my little niece being wheeled towards me by Morty, who was giving a small smile. He hadn't known Bruno at all; I don't think he even ever talked to the guy, so he hadn't been at the funeral. It had actually been a very small group there, just his family and the elite four, plus the occasional gym leader that really knew him.

Ray, my niece, looked like an adorable mixture of Morty and Kris. She had Kris's hair, light blue waves so far, but her eyes were all Morty, along with the headband he'd gotten her. She had Kris's complexion, though, not nearly as pale as Morty. I wasn't a big fan of kids, but as far as Ray went, she was pretty cute.

Plus, she liked me, for whatever unknown reason.

I knelt down as they reached me, stretched my hand out to run it over the soft fuzz on Ray's head, "Hey, sweetie!"

"Ly! Ly! I miss Ly!" She was only two and still couldn't get 'r's' quite right.

"I missed you to, Ray!" I unbuckled her from the chair, lifting her into my arms and straightening up. Morty gave me a knowing smile.

"You may say you never want kids, Lyra, but the evidence speaks otherwise."

"I'm allowed to tolerate one or two," I could even manage a glare at Morty. I still felt too broken and the feel of Ray in my arms, squishy and warm, was enough to calm me down slightly. I'd finally found a good thing about kids, "Where's Kris?"

While Ray repeated her mom's name, making it sound like 'kiss', Morty pointed towards their house, which had been built beside the lake front, "She's cooking a meal for Ray."

I gave a slow nod, and then began walking in that direction. Ray wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing a sloppy kiss against my cheeks that brought a small smile to my lips. I returned it, but only half-heartedly.

"I'm… so sorry, Lyra." I froze up. Oh right, I'd completely forgotten that Ethan still lived here, in this little secluded town. Not many people actually knew where he lived, being as it would be dangerous if they did, enough people wanted him dead, there was a lot of gangs in Johto, but I knew where he lived because people didn't think I was going to kill him.

I turned to face him, staring at his awkward face, his tired eyes, "It's fine, Ethan. I'm fine." That, at least, was the truth. I hadn't had my brains blown out.

Ethan rubbed a hand over his face, his hair falling in limp waves over his eyes, "I feel like there should be something more for me to say."

"There isn't," I turned to go, resting my cheek against Ray's head.

"Lyra!" I paused, "I… want to apologiz-"

I whipped back around, ignoring Ray's excited squeal, "Will you please stop apologizing? I don't give a sh- frig if you are feeling bad about kissing me. It happened, now let it go. I'm not here to argue about our relationship. I'm here because a close friend of mine died and I just- I just-," Tears rose up in my eyes, finally spilling over my cheeks.

I stood there, feeling embarrassed as the tears ran down my cheeks. There was no stopping them, no matter how much I fought against them, because they just kept running.

Then, Ethan stepped forward… and hugged me.

I rested me head against his chest, staring with wide eyes at nothing. Ray still cooed in my arms, seeming oblivious to the confusion and sadness above her. For a moment I wished to be able to escape all this, because I wasn't old enough to understand.

Then, I turned my head and sobbed into Ethan's shirt.

"So, they don't have any leads to where Team Rocket's at?"

Me and my family, including Ethan, were all sitting around the kitchen table in Kris's house. Kris had her head leant against Morty's shoulder, staring at Ray who was playing with Shakra on the floor, while Ethan sat across from me. Mom was sitting on the other side of Kris and Morty, fiddling her fingers. She kept glancing over at the dirty dishes, just wanting to scrub them.

"None at all," I spread my fingers over the table, inspecting each of my finger nails separately. My shoulder ached, but at least the stitches had been removed.

My eyes were red and puffy, I could just feel them, and Ethan kept staring at me with this worried gaze, like he expected me to break into a million pieces at any moment. I wouldn't have been surprised if I did. I felt fragile and thin, like a sheet of glass.

"Are the police doing anything?" Goddamn Ethan and his questions. It didn't help me at all, just making my hands shake even more.

"They're searching for clues, talking to people that may have been there when it happened. The most anyone seems to know is that they heard a gunshot then saw some shadowed figures jump into a van and speed away."

"No mysterious vans have gotten ditched in a lake anywhere?"

I jerked to my feet, glaring across the table at Ethan, "God dammit, Ethan! Can you not take this seriously?"

Ethan stared back at me calmly. He never got annoyed. He may get passionate, or frustrated, but never annoyed, "I'm just trying to get my own take on the situation, Lyra."

"Don't you have somewhere you should be? Some conference? I thought you political people were supposed to be busy?"

"I'm allowed to take a few days off when one of my friends are hurt."

Everyone at the table stayed silent, watching the exchange. Kris and Morty just clung to each other tighter, but mom had knowing eyes on me, boring a hole into my very soul, picking out all those little feelings for Ethan I was struggling with.

I stepped away from the table, walking away, "I'm going to my room, in mom's house."

Nobody stopped me. Outside, it was sunny. I didn't feel like it should be such a beautiful day, especially when someone I loved had died. The sky should have been ridden with clouds, and drizzle would have set the scene perfectly. I stopped in the middle of the little town, just… looking.

Elm's old, abandoned lab still lay in the shade of the trees, long abandoned after his death. That'd been almost three years ago, the old man dying of an infection from a glizor cut that'd he'd obtained while doing field work. It'd been very abrupt, since one day he was just as healthy, and the next he was slowly dying away in a hospital.

I turned away from the lab, it gave me the geebies, just seeing it crouched there under the shifting light filtering through the leaves. My mom's house was to the very right of the lab, small, square and falling apart. I kept trying to convince her to fix it up, but she said that shingles hanging off the yellow roof gave it character.

The door opened with a loud creak, it needed to be greased again, the windmill high above creaking as the wheel tried to keep turning even after years without maintenance. Mom had turned the lights off before leaving the house, and I flicked them on before kicking off my heels.

There were only two rooms to the bottom floor, the kitchen and the living room, and it was seriously open concept, you could see right into both. The rooms never changed. The couch was the same old, brown one that I'd spilled milk on at the age of five and the television was a huge box, the screen filled with static no matter if it was sunny or raining.

The counters in the kitchen were stained yellow from years of spills, the refrigerator older than Kris. One of the table legs had been broken off and we'd propped it up on some thick books about poffins or something, and those books hadn't moved since.

It might have seemed shabby and sickly, maybe even unsanitary, with its dim light and many stains, but it was my home and my very favourite place in the world. Any time I came back here I instantly felt better, and today was no exception.

I walked up the creaking stairs, which led up into a hall. There was four doors in the hallway. Two led to my mom and Kris's bedrooms, one leading into the annoyingly small bathroom and the last one leading into my own bathroom. I walked over the sickly green carpet in that direction.

Mom never moved any of my stuff, not since I'd left at the young age of thirteen, coming back as a newly matured fourteen year old. I think that was the year that I'd grown up, between fighting Team Rocket, witnessing all of Johto and then most of Kanto, and seeing so many Pokémon I couldn't even remember then names of them all.

My bed sat pushed into a corner so it would take as little room as possible, the pillow and sheets left to be unwashed and gather dust after I left. My little PC was long dead, having broken after my and Ethan had knocked in onto the floor in a heated battle between my Meganium and his Marill. I'd won, obviously, but Meganium had been way too fit in the room, so it was my fault the PC was broken.

I pulled open my dresser, looking at the rows of jeans, shorts and most of all, coveralls. So many pairs of coveralls. All the same ones, too. People must have thought I was intensely greasy back in the day. I pulled out a pair, holding them to my body. It was hard to believe I'd even fit into these.

I shoved them back inside and slammed the door shut, before sitting down on my bed. I swore I saw a little cloud of dust rise up around me. I'd have to talk about my mom about that.

"Oh… my god," Abruptly, my head fell into my hands, shoulders hunched and breath coming out in raspy gasped. Bruno was dead. I was never going to see him again. Ever.

Just when I thought they'd finally went away; the tears welled up again and spilled over my cheeks. This time I didn't try to hold in the loud, body shaking sobs. It's not like there was anyone there to hear me, anyway. I fell sideways, hitting my head on my dusty pillow and pulling my knees up against my chest.

I sobbed there for who knows how long, the tears falling sideways over my cheeks, dripping over my nose and falling onto my pillow until it was practically soaked. My sides ached from sobbing so loudly, but I felt better. Like crying had… finally mended something inside of me.

I lay there for a long time afterwards, just staring at nothing, the sky slowly dimming into darkness outside. No one came to try and find me, they left me alone.

So why did I feel so hurt when nobody showed up?

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! R&R and I'll hand out cookies or something like that!