A/N: Yay! Chapter two is here, for all… one… people who actually clicked on it, lol. Oh well. My fondest dream (well, one of many on my extensive list, at any rate) is that il Neige himself will stumble upon this and lavish heaping praise upon my wordcraft… Or, more likely, he'll just crack up in a (an?) hysterical fashion. *shrugs* Never mind. To quote our great anti-hero Ned Kelly's last words before being hanged on November 11, 1880: Such is life. (Yay for Australian settler history!… said nobody, ever.)

Oh, also: prepare for Pokémon*. Enjoy. Or not. I know I'm pretty much writing this for myself right now. Good writing practice, amirite? Right? Anyone…? *sighs as a tumbleweed blows past* We don't even have those in this country…

CHAPTER TWO

Neige had never seen the usually clogged highways of California so quiet and motionless. Still cars were scattered all across the four lanes in various states of disrepair; most of the ones that weren't on their side or sprouting weeds on grassy patches at the edge of the road had their doors thrown wide open, some with windows shattered and paint gouged off in wide stripes.

Neige sidestepped one car that was balancing on its left-hand tyres; the ones on its right side had melted under what looked to be a particularly powerful blast of fire. Scorch marks had damaged several of the cars, obviously causing some to rocket off the edge of the road entirely into the scraggly brown brush.

He shifted his Legend of Zelda backpack higher onto his shoulders, trying to ease the constant burn the straps were wearing into his shoulders. He probably shouldn't have filled it with such useless crap when he rushed out of his house after the Fourth Wall shattered. But, to be fair, he thought with just a bite of frustration, it wasn't like he had much time to be choosy. Alright, so maybe his Nintendo 3DSXL wasn't going to be of much use out here in the ruins of modern civilisation. Where would he charge it, exactly? And his Pokedex… really? On a more sensible note, he did bring his favourite Pikachu beanie with the awesome little Pokeballs dangling from it, which had been keeping his head and ears warm at night.

A Channel Awesome sweater was also in the bag, for extra cold nights spent unwillingly under the stars, and his wallet had had enough cash left in it to barter with another drifter (presumably a man more optimistic of the brisk return of America's economy) for a week's supply of muesli bars to add to the jar of peanut butter, two bags of potato chips and a little plastic bottle of Coke he'd been refilling with water from faucets in peoples' backyards.

His sword, too, had proved itself useful against Profion only yesterday afternoon, as well as for chopping his way through boards and locks like a common axe. Despite the fact that it had only been a replica when he'd bought it at Comic-con, and had been about as sharp as a donut, it was retaining its magically-come-by super-sharpness remarkably well for all the wear Neige was putting it through.

He kicked an errant steering wheel out of his path now, watching it catch the rim of the grass merging with the tarmac and setting off at a steady roll across the brown dirt. It fetched up against a scrubby little bush and fell flat on its side. Neige smiled grimly, made to move on—

There was a rustle from the bush.

He paused, staring hard. Had that been a flash of white he'd spotted between the withering brown sticks? The sun was making spots on his vision, blurring it, making it hard to see…

He shook his head. He was imagining things. These last sleepless weeks had got the best of him, as they'd been threatening to do since he left the security of his internet- no, electricity- wait, plumbing- well. His house, anyway.

The sun was at its highest point. Shadows of the cars were stretched out deformedly, like they'd been pressed through a noodle maker and were reaching out to the end of the road, so there wasn't much shade for Neige to settle in for a restful moment. He took refuge instead in a family van, the sort with the doors that slide back. As he settled across the wide front seat, he noticed a couple of empty baby seats in the back; guilt sliced through him like his sword. Families had had to flee in terror because of him. Because he couldn't leave well enough alone, because he just had to finish that review…

He shuddered and pulled his phone out of his jeans' pocket. He waited impatiently for it to turn on – though he wasn't sure why, as it wasn't like he had to be anywhere. When the screen finally flickered to life, it was with a flashing red warning that it was at its lowest power bar. He glanced longingly at the USB charger in the dashboard of the van, beating himself up mentally for pausing long enough at home to remember his DS charger but not his effing phone charger. In a moment of desperation five days before when he'd managed to secure a backup power generator from some guy's garden shed, he'd tried forcing the DS charger into his phone socket, only to end up snapping something inside the phone. Now even if he should stumble across a charger in a house to fit, it wouldn't work.

Way to go, Neige, he thought bitterly, swiping his fingers across the apps screen and bringing up Maps. He could only connect with the emergency GPS satellite, so it was slow-going, but he found he was currently on the southbound highway leading out of California altogether. Another couple of hundred miles and he'd be in Mexico.

Might as well go and see what havoc's been wrought down south, he thought miserably, turning his phone off again to preserve battery and stuffing it back into his pocket. He fished around in his bag for his water bottle and took a swig, noting with mild alarm that it was nearly three-quarters empty, and helped himself to a muesli bar before climbing back out of the van.

He didn't make it three steps before something small, red and fluttery launched itself at his face from nowhere.

"Holy—!" he shouted, ducking as the object swerved gracelessly above his head and made a second attempt at his eyes. He quickly tugged his backpack over his head and dashed for the nearest car, sliding behind it like he was trying to capture a base in baseball.

The red thing followed him. It landed in a heap of feathers and indignant squawks by his feet, struggling to stand; Neige backed up as far as he could go— which wasn't far, considering he'd chosen a car encircled by other wrecks. Fortunately, however – or unfortunately, as he was starting to deduce – he didn't need to be afraid. It was with an irritable sinking in the pit of his stomach that he watched the thing right itself and fluff its feathers at him imperiously.

"Delibird," he groaned.

The Delibird squawked a greeting. Its black eyes peered at him brightly from a white face; its belly was red and white, and its tail, Neige noted with a sudden spike of interest, was curled tightly around something bulky.

"That's right," he said, more to himself than the Pokémon. "You carry stuff in your tail, don't you? Food to lost travellers and all that."

Delibird squawked a third time and trotted forward proudly. It turned its back on Neige when it reached his sneakers and unfurled its tail; instead of food, a reasonably sized packet of aspirins, antibiotics and Band-Aids tipped onto the hot tarmac. Neige could barely believe it. He scooped them up, studying them carefully. He eyed the Delibird suspiciously.

"What's the deal?" he asked. Then another thought struck him. "Also, aren't you supposed to live in the mountains? Icy mountains?"

Delibird ruffled his feathers, bowing his head against the sun. Neige glanced up at the cloudless sky, felt the warmth of the sun on his bare arms and face. Most likely the Pokémon had ended up here because this was where the Wall had shattered. It wasn't like he had a choice where he was ejected onto real!Earth, as Neige had taken to dubbing it in his head.

"Well, uh… thanks." Neige carefully placed the medicines in his backpack and zipped it up again. Slowly, aware of the way Delibird stared at him the whole time, he climbed to his feet. "No idea why you gave these to me specifically or whatever, but uh… Yeah. It doesn't really matter." He paused as Delibird cocked his head. Neige cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm, um… I'm going this way." He pointed south and made to step around Delibird. "Nice meeting you."

He'd barely made it ten steps down the road when he was aware of a tug at his shoelace. He wasn't surprised when he glanced down to see Delibird pecking at it, but he was a little surprised when he saw Delibird's wing pointing north—back the way he'd come.

"You're going north?"

Delibird nodded.

"Oh. Great. Guess I'll see you around, then."

But Neige wasn't going anywhere, apparently. Delibird gave an impatient squawk and flew up to his shoulder, where he proceeded to peck at his left ear.

"Ouch! What, you want me to go north too?"

Delibird nodded again.

"But I just came from there! You expect me to walk all that way again?"

Apparently Delibird expected exactly that, because he didn't let go of Neige's ear until he'd turned around with a grumble and started back up the road.

"It's a good job I don't have a destination in mind, you know," he told the Pokémon.

Delibird gave what sounded eerily like a derisive laugh. All Neige could think was: Why couldn't I have been found by Charizard? Pikachu? Even Gyrados, for Pete's sake?

As it was, it was just him and Delibird, making their slow way north into the ruins of civilisation they'd just abandoned.

*Haha, spellcheck made me change that so it had the French little squiggle above the 'e'… Go MS Word.

OH YEAH. Forgot to mention up there. Ah tried me best at all them tricky Americanisms, like 'faucet' instead o' 'tap', but I prob'ly got half of 'em wrong anyway, so sorry 'bout that… (Not really, but I can pretend.)