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Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. Pokémon is the property of Game Freak and Nintendo and all of those awesome people who invented it.

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Joanna's house, as Mitchell remembered, was reminiscent of an old Colonial home, with its symmetrical square shape and windows lining the front of both the first and second story. It was made of brick with wood trim, all painted white so that it seemed to glow in the night. It was no different than the other Colonial homes along the street from the front. As Mitchell had come from the side, he could see that hers had an extension built onto the back, and the driveway rerouted to the closed overhead door that separated their garage from the outside world. This garage, along with the large pickup truck sitting outside of it, was the teenaged boy's target. If her window opened up onto the garage roof, then he would have no trouble smuggling her out of the house.

His feet pounded on the uneven pavement, the sirens growing ever closer. His body had had enough for the night, yet he felt strangely motivated, determined to push his limits as far as he could for the meantime. Charmander followed toting the berry sock, now empty. It seemed like the berries had given him some kind of unsurpassable energy that Mitchell was beginning to envy in the Pokémon. It had been up all day with Kenneth, then woken from its sleep several times throughout the night, often to the unexpected.

Kenneth. Mitchell suddenly couldn't stop thinking about what had happened earlier, though his mind had tried in vain to block the memory. His friend would be okay, he kept telling himself. The ambulance had gotten to him in time, and everyone on the TV had said he would be fine. But Mitchell didn't think he'd be fine. For the first time, Mitchell considered that it was possible that he would return here later in his quest to find that Kenneth was no longer with them. And even if he would survive this situation, what would happen if Edward saw that he had survived? Surely he had shot to kill. No, no, that was wrong. He had shot to kill Mitchell. Kenneth was innocent. But Edward probably didn't even care. The boy closed his eyes and hoped that his father was lying dead in a ditch, being fed on by scavenger Pokémon.

He felt the slope of the driveway far too soon and didn't realize it until he was sprawled out on the concrete. His injured chest had absorbed most of the fall, though he groaned quietly with pain as he pushed himself up. A light came on by the nearest window, the one that overlooked the driveway, and Mitchell froze in mid-push up position, his eyes widening and his breath becoming silent. Charmander was ahead of him, pressed up against the wall of the garage as if he were some sort of secret agent. The light turned off quickly afterward, as if someone had gone into the kitchen to get something from the fridge and left quickly. He sighed and looked up at his Pokémon, who had already found a trellis on the side of the garage and had begun the ascent to the roof of the first story. Knowing that it would not support his weight, Mitchell ignored the trellis altogether, jumping into the bed of the truck and stepping onto the cabin. He leapt for the roof and grabbed onto it, the dirty rain gutter groaning as he tried to avoid pushing down on it too hard. He threw one leg over and Charmander came over to help him up, pulling surprisingly hard and bringing Mitchell completely onto the rooftop. He looked at the nearest window and saw the blue glow of either a computer or TV screen. The curtains were shut but in the crack between them he could see a figure moving between various pieces of furniture quickly, as if packing in a hurry. The boy smiled and rapped on the window with his knuckle. Painted fingernails slipped through the crack and pulled them apart, revealing Joanna in her pajamas. She didn't bother changing and instead shoved clothes into a backpack not unlike Mitchell's in style, though slightly smaller. The window came open quietly.

"Here to sweep me off my feet, Sir Knight?" she asked, handing him a smaller bag that seemed to be filled with Poké Balls and other supplies. If he hadn't known better, he would have assumed her to be an experienced trainer from all of the stuff she had strewn about her room. She was still grabbing stuff, but it seemed like the sirens were right outside the front door by now. Mitchell could see the lights coming down the road, and knew that he had to hide Charmander or they would see his burning tail.

"Charmander, return!" he said, and the Pokémon turned into the jellied light and was sucked into his Poké Ball. Joanna handed Mitchell one more bag, her purse, and climbed through the window, shutting it slowly behind Bulbasaur as he followed. The cruisers were literally pulling into the driveway when the three leapt from the roof and into the grass below, rolling to absorb the impact. They jetted for the back fence as the police stepped out of their cars and walked around the house to the front door, the loud sound of Joanna's antique door knocker filling the adrenaline-filled ears of the teens as they fell into the grass again, on the other side of the wooden fence. They could not stop now; they could not stop until they were well out of Pallet Town. The bags clunked against Mitchell and Joanna grabbed her purse to lighten the load, though it was not by much. Slowly, the lights faded, and the two found themselves at the beginning of Route 1, hidden in the shadows of night and the forest. Bulbasaur was now in front of them, but slowed when he realized that the two had stopped to look back.

Both were panting. Mitchell could feel the sweat dripping down his face and pulled up his shirt to wipe it off. Joanna was saying her goodbyes in her head, which Mitchell didn't know. He looked up at her face in the moonlight, the single beam shining down and illuminating her entire face through the trees. She, too, was sweating, though it dried quickly and evaporated. Her hair was a mess, but it didn't stop her from looking gorgeous. She glanced up at Mitchell, who had stopped staring at her so that he didn't give her second thoughts about joining him on the journey. There was a short silence that they both tried to break at the same time, but Mitchell let her go first.

"What are we doing, Mitchell?" she asked seriously, as if she had suddenly been bombarded with thoughts of the repercussions of running away. Mitchell looked at her and noted that she was now nibbling on her thumbnail and pacing, followed closely by Bulbasaur.

"We're fleeing Pallet, going on a journey, getting away from my serial killer dad who is still running around town, avoiding cops for things we didn't do," he listed, and she looked up at him, as if he was trying to be sarcastic and showing it poorly.

"Look. I like you, I think you're a cool person compared to everyone I've met in Pallet your age. But … well, I don't know. We don't even know each other, Mitchell," she said. Bulbasaur rubbed against the leg of her PJs. Mitchell was slightly bothered by her sudden change of heart, but he tried not to show it too much.

"Well, I don't know what choice you really have now. And haven't we already decided I'm not out to strangle and murder you or something? Come on, I know you and Bulbasaur want out of here, and we're already started anyway, and your dad just turned you in to the police. We both have family problems, let's just leave and let live,"

"Live and let live," she corrected, but she understood the word play he had been going for. Bulbasaur croaked at Joanna, who looked down at the animal. Bulbasaur wanted to go, and to turn back now would be a horrible trick to play on the young Grass Pokémon. She looked back at her house, then at Mitchell, then at Bulbasaur.

"Yeah, okay. I mean, I didn't just jump off my house for nothing, right?" she reasoned, though her doubts were flying in below the radar. Mitchell suggested that they keep going, since it was a while to Viridian City and they wanted to make it to the Pokémon Center as soon as they could. They walked in silence again, dangling on a thread between consciousness and sweet, sweet sleep, though the chilling breeze that had become a constant annoyance was making sure that they kept moving. Mitchell released Charmander with hope that the lizard could keep them warm, but he could not. His tail provided warmth only to things very close, and he didn't want to breathe fire on his owner and friends.

"I'm cold," Joanna repeated, pulling on a sweater tucked into her backpack. Mitchell just kept moving, thinking of how relieved he would be once he stepped through the sliding doors of the Center in Viridian City. He would waste no time in getting there, but according to the map that Joanna had pointed out in the Pokédex, they were little more than halfway by the time the moon was blocked out by the nighttime clouds. They stumbled in pitch darkness until Joanna suggested that they just set up camp. Mitchell was about to agree, but he could see a light on the horizon.

"No, let's just go hang out by that camp up there. I'm sure they won't mind if they're trainers," Mitchell suggested, but Joanna shook her head.

"If they're trainers, they'll want to battle. And I'm not battling in the cold. Gimme a blanket, maybe, but not right now. Let's just stop here,"

But Mitchell pressed onward, caring not for his accomplice's logic. They would only be there for a little while, and if the trainers at the camp wanted to battle, then they could just tell a lie. They whited out and were on their way to a Pokémon Center, but it got cold and they saw the fire. Yes, that would do nicely. They felt the air growing warmer as they approached the flame. Whoever had made the fire was sleeping in a large tent nearby that shuddered when the wind picked up. A dull noise could be heard inside, a mysterious voice interspersed between several bouts of crackling static. Someone was talking on the radio.

"We'll warm up and leave," Joanna said, her ears perking up when she heard the voice from inside the tent. "I'm not keen on being happy-slashed by some wanna-be Frederick Klein,"

"Happy-slashed. Never heard that one before," Mitchell said, now feeling a creeping paranoia as it moved up and down his body. He glanced uneasily at the tent and heard the radio turn down. Joanna watched the tent flap fall open as a man stepped through, eying the kids warily.

"Excuse me? Who are you?" the man asked. Joanna could see that he was tall and probably in his early thirties, with short brown hair and a pair of nearly invisible glasses sitting on the slightly crooked bridge of his nose. He was dressed in pajamas that looked very warm, but not particularly comfortable. The dull crackle of the radio could still be heard from behind the man.

"We're sorry, it's just really cold and we saw the fire. We're trainers," Joanna apologized. The man seemed suspicious of the two.

"Doesn't Pallet have a curfew?" he asked coldly, as if he absolutely despised teenagers and wanted them gone immediately. Joanna spoke again, cutting off Mitchell. "No, that doesn't apply to nonresident trainers,"

"How do you know that?"

"A police officer stopped us and asked if we were trainers, and he told me that."

"Do you have proof?"

She pointed at Bulbasaur, and the man in the tent finally accepted that they were who they said they were. He unzipped the tent even further and stepped out, but backed into it when the fiercely cold breeze cut into him like a knife.

"I'm sorry for being so interrogative," he said, "but the news was talking about some man who beat his family and escaped into the woods before he was caught. I only caught the gist of it, though, and you over there, boy; you look kinda threatening with that bruise. What happened?" the man in the tent said, to which Mitchell replied, "Tripped and fell into the corner of a countertop,"

The man opened the tent fully and beckoned for the teenagers to join him inside.

"Well, I don't want you both out in the cold all night. It's not usually like this, I don't know where this wind came from but it's been blowing around here all night. I got caught on my way back to Viridian City. I work at the Pokémart up there," he explained. Mitchell and Joanna looked at each other, trying to decide if he was trustworthy. He noticed this.

"Here, have a Potion on me. There's your proof, it's marked 'Not for Resale'." Joanna caught the small purple bottle and looked at it, nodding to her partner who stood up and approached the tent, listening to the crackle of the radio.

"What's up with that thing?" he asked, extending his hand to shake with the man.

"No clue. I'm trying to listen to a murder-mystery program but the damned thing keeps crackling. Kills the suspense. I'm Hardy," he said.

"Mitch,"

"Jo,"

The teens went inside the tent and sat down on the floor, relieved that the wind was now blocked out by the orange canvas. Hardy shut the opening and sat down as well, starting to tinker with the radio. The teens remained silent, looking to find objects to focus on during this awkward moment.

"Bulbasaur," the Pokémon said, and Hardy looked up.

"Where'd you get one of those, Jo? I've always wanted one but Oak's the only one I know, and he only gives 'em out to starting trainers," the older man said, slamming his hand against the top of the machine. For a second, the reception was crystal clear, but it crackled and died the moment after.

"Oak gave it to my mother to give to me for my birthday. They're close friends," she explained, but Hardy wasn't listening. He hit the radio again and it flickered to life, but the channel was playing nothing but white noise. He cursed and kicked the machine, angry at it for screwing up. He looked again at Bulbasaur, who had sat down and was leaning into Joanna, who stroked his head lightly. Mitchell crossed his legs and watched Bulbasaur jealously, wondering what her reaction would be if he put his head in her lap. It wouldn't end well, especially with her expressing a want to return home earlier. He envied the Pokémon but kept a straight face.

"So, you guys have plans for your futures as trainers? Gonna challenge the League? Earn your badges? The works?" Hardy asked. Joanna answered first, saying that she wasn't sure yet. She explained that while technically she was an official trainer in the League database, she did not have her own Pokédex, and therefore had no ID or way of communicating her finds to the professor.

"Well, I might be able to help you with that. I know we've got a delivery for Professor Oak waiting for him at the shop, but we're just going to ship it in. I could attach a note asking him to deliver one into your Inbox, assuming you have an account on the Item Storage Network," Hardy told her. She smiled and said that that would be nice, and Hardy turned his attention to Mitchell.

"And you?"

"I've got my Pokédex and I guess I also have the Item Storage thing, if Oak made me one,"

"No, I meant to ask about your future. Badges, League Champion?"

"I honestly don't know. I was never allowed to go really anywhere until today," he told the man, who thought about the answer for a while.

"Why today?"

"Parents," he answered. Hardy laughed.

"They kept you until now? I feel sorry for you,"

"Thanks,"

The light on the front of the radio froze, illuminated with green light. On the front, there was a small TV display that worked only for the news. That was the channel it was tuned to.

"The news is a bunch of lies, I hate local reporters," Hardy said, his finger about to change the channel, but the broadcast caught his attention.

"Joanna Reese disappeared from her house earlier tonight shortly before she was to be picked up for questioning following the disappearance of seventeen-year-old Mitchell Direnetti. We received an anonymous tip that she would be able to provide the whereabouts of the boy, but when police officers arrived at her house, they could find no trace of her. Her room was messier than usual, according to her father, and several clothing items were found to be missing. If you have information on the disappearances of either Mitchell Direnetti or Joanna Reese, please contact the Pallet Police Department,"

Hardy looked up at the two teens in shock.

"What did you say your names were?"

"Dwayne,"

"Sharon,"

Hardy dove for his phone, but Joanna beat him to it, her thin fingers wrapping around the device and squeezing tightly to prevent letting it slip. The man landed on top of her and pinned her to the floor. She yelled for him to get off and elbowed him in the gut, causing him to back off of her. Mitchell was reaching into his backpack for his gun, but he knew that it would be a very bad thing for him to brandish it. This man would probably already report them, and if he were threatened, the police would be even more watchful for Joanna and her bruised comrade.

"Bulbasaur, door!" Joanna shouted to the Pokémon, and he nodded and barked in agreement, one of his vines shooting forward and wrapping around the thin zipper. He yanked it downward and the flap fell open, cold air floating inward against the powerful wind current. Mitchell grabbed Joanna's hand and pulled her up, feeling the phone in her grip. Hardy lunged and grabbed her foot, which she kicked back at him, losing her sandal. The ground outside was cold and hard, and she refused to leave without her only pair of open-toed shoes. Mitchell let go and she knocked Hardy to the side, her foot jamming up into his groin. His eyes rolled upward and he fell over, his hands reacting instinctively but covering him too late. Joanna grabbed the shoe with her toes and slid it on, then ran out past the fire with the others. They ran until they could no longer move, their chests rising and falling rapidly, the feel of the cool air in their burning lungs soothing yet painful at the same time. Mitchell was the first to speak.

"They really have to stop broadcasting that kind of stuff," he panted, and Joanna nodded.

"I could get used to this," she said, still jogging into the cold night.

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Author Notes: FINALLY out of Pallet. And it only took seven chapters. I have planned up to Chapter…13, I believe, which is part of where I've been the past week or so. The other part was Harry Potter 7. Anyway, read and reviews, I love to hear your opinions and such. Who knows, leaving a review might convince me to go and leave you some reviews as well, so we both benefit from the situation.

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