Chapter One:
Tiptoe

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon in any way, shape, or form. The only "ownership" I can claim are the personalities and my interpretation of howPokémonlook in a more realistic light, but other than that...yeah, I don't own anything on them. XD I do, however, own my original characters and writings, unless otherwise stated. In an exceptional case, a few special OCs belong to their respective owners, I'm merely borrowing them for the story that's to unfold. I'll point them out when their time to show up comes. :3

Note: I apologize to everyone. I had not realized that, somehow, chapter two of this story got replaced with another copy of chapter three. I'm not sure if it was me (which is quite possible) or if it was the system, but I've re-uploaded this to fix that mishap.

I also made a mistake regarding Phillips' last name. Originally, it was 'Armstrong', but then I had accidentally changed it in later chapters to 'Sykes'. I just decided to edit it to Sykes instead, since I like it a little more than Armstrong. XD

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From your slanted view see the morning dew
Sink into the soil, watch the water boil
They won't see me run, who can blame them?
They never look to see me fly, so I never have to lie
-"Tiptoe" by Imagine Dragons

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Let's start off slow. What do I know?

She stared at the items on the table, all on line, neat and orderly. She furrowed her brow, gaze lingering on the dog tags.

well, I have no idea who I am, because I'm either paranoid and thought havin' personal stuff on me was a risk, or…

Lupin sighed.

Or I have no clue.

She picked up the dog tags and looped the chain back over her head, nestling the metal bits alongside the pentagram charm. Then she picked up the journal next, brow furrowing even more as she guided her hands over the cover, the well-worn spine and the backing, along the pages that were uneven and lipped. They roved over cracks and creases, imperfections that made her wonder if it had been her hands that had created this book, or if it had been somebody else's hands.

Pages rustled and she breathed deep the scent of the book, the weathered pages, the graphite and charcoal and ink that stained them, the newspaper clippings and printed articles pasted and stapled and taped to the insides, adding volume and quality to it. She read through the first entries, and the confusion increased. Words popped up that didn't ring any bells.

Wendigo. Skinwalker. Shapeshifter. Banshee. Kelpie. Vampire. Werewolf.

Words that seemed so foreign, and yet she felt, once more trusting her gut, that they should mean something. But she stared blankly at them, for hours, and found…nothing. No bells rung, no fanfare sounded off, no moment of eureka to be had.

The professor left her be for those first few days, coming to a conclusion that letting her sort herself out would probably be more beneficial that fussing or worrying over her. He did, after all, have work to do. For that much, she was grateful to be left to her own devices, which honestly weren't much, since she holed herself away in the small office space he'd allowed her to take over.

But, that quiet peace soon came to an end, when a knock came at the door during one of her searching periods, breaking through the bubble she'd been so encased in for the past several hours. Hurriedly, Lupin yanked the hat sitting on the back of the chair she was sitting on over her head and threw on her coat. At the last second, she paused long enough to sweep up the knives into the depths of the coat's pockets before calling, "Come in!"

The door creaked open and the bespectacled man poked his head in, offering her a smile and a tentative nod her way. His eyes drifted to the items on the desk, before settling back on her face.

"At it again, I see," he commented and she nodded, politely so. He drummed his fingers on the door before clearing his throat. "Well, I came by to let you know that lunch is ready. Phillip's really outdone himself by making a very nice stew." He grinned a little wider. "I swear, if I didn't have him around, I'd probably be back where I was when I didn't have an assistant—working for days on end without stop before collapsing. I'd wake up to the Pokemon I was observing licking my face or sleeping on my back."

He chuckled, albeit nervously, when she stared, barely a crack of a smile pulling at her own lips. He quickly petered out before clearing his throat.

"Why don't you come out and eat with us? We'll be having it outside today. It's very beautiful out. You've been cooped up for days."

"Says the workaholic researcher," Lupin replied dryly, raising a brow at the man. He grinned sheepishly.

"Guilty as charged, and a point to irony, I'll admit. I still stand by my offer. It might do you some good to get out and stretch a little. I know that this room can't be all that comfortable."

Lupin stared, brow furrowing, lips pursing, and she looked back at the table. Finally she sighed, nodded and gathered everything back up and stuffing them one-by-one into her pockets. Pulling herself to her feet, she nodded to the professor and followed him out into a short hallway that quickly extended into a large and open workspace, a vaulted ceiling, a secondary level with an observation deck, a few other doors leading to smaller work rooms. The walls were lined with quietly humming machines and devices that seemed like dormant creatures, waiting for interaction to begin anew for whatever purposes they'd been created for.

They paused at one of the doorways. The door here was automatic and after a quick code was punched into a keypad beside the door, it opened with a soft, pneumatic hiss. Professor Elm motioned for her to follow inside as he stepped through the doorway. Her immediate impression was a playroom or a nursery: the walls were painted a soft, pleasing yellow. The floor had clean carpet lining it and Lupin was almost hesitant to cross from the hard linoleum to the plush material in her scuffed boots. The carpet was littered with toys of varying sizes, shapes, materials. Several were little dolls and one of them was an object of interest between three creatures occupying the floor space in the middle of the room.

She stared, slightly boggled at the creatures. One looked vaguely familiar, although something felt off about its blue scales and red plates lining the backside. It was vaguely reptilian in nature, almost crocodilian even, with the hard long snout, crooked smile, and unblinking yellow eyes as it whipped a rather prehensile tail about behind it. The other two were a little stranger for her to adapt to.

The first was light green, a quadruped, with slightly leathery skin almost in the semblance of a plant, and a large, leaf-like protrusion was sprouting from the top of its head. It was snapping at the doll with a beak-like mouth, clacking it sharply together playfully as it nipped after the toy. She wasn't sure what to make of it, it was the strangest looking one of the three.

The last was a small, furry creature, almost roly-poly in shape, with a long thin snout, short and stubby legs and tiny, warm eyes that were nearly closed, almost like a mole's. The fur was dark in colour, almost black in some lights, with a darkish green tinge in others. Four spots of reddish-tinged fur in perfect circles lined its backside, while pale, short fur lined its belly. Fine, prickly protrusions stuck out its backside, but occasionally, she'd see the flicker of sparks spit up from them, almost as though they would combust given the right amount of friction.

As soon as she and the professor stepped into the room, the play between the three almost ceased completely. Bright eyes turned on him in an instant, before the toy was dropped and forgotten as they toddled closer toward the man bearing the crisp white lab coat with squeals and squeaks of joy.

"Professor!"

"It's the Professor!"

Lupin twitched at the voices, surprised.

Did they just…?

The voices, three and distinct, rose to a clamor, overlapping one another to be heard as they crowded the professor. He knelt and they scrambled at the further purchase now available, trying to clamber into his lap. It was a rather quirky sight and it prompted a faint smile from Lupin, despite her awkwardness in being a quiet bystander.

"These are the pokémon that are a part of my research. I focus mainly on the evolutionary stages between the juvenile, adolescent, and mature stages of pokémon evolutions. Why do some take so long to evolve? Why do some take a shorter amount of time? It's all so very interesting. In comparison, say, a Charmander to a Cyndaquil, a Charmander takes longer to grow into its adolescence of a Charmeleon than a Cyndaquil does to Quilava. But, they both evolve around the same rate and level of experience to reach their final stages of maturity as Charizard and Typhlosion, respectively."

Here he motioned to the little roly-poly, mole-creature with dark fur and odd markings. The little creature with its sparking backside glanced at her at last, as though suddenly aware of the audience and snuffled in her direction before sneezing. The other two paused in their pawing at the professor to look at her as well. The green, leafy creature shuddered. The blue crocodilian regarded her with half-lidded, lazy eyes and looked rather unimpressed.

"She smells funny."

The previous shock from moments before plummeted at the comment and she gave the now-named Cyndaquil a dull glare.

"Your backside is a fireworks factory hazard. I wouldn't be talking," she muttered back with as dry a tone as she could muster.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Professor Elm interrupted, looking back at her from over his shoulder. She frowned, glancing at the Cyndaquil, hesitating. She motioned vaguely to them.

"You didn't…hear…?"

"Hear what? I thought I heard you say something, but I couldn't hear over these little guys' squeals. They've got all sorts of energy building up, I swear, they never seem to stop!"

And I think I've entered the early stages of craziness while suffering amnesia. Better stay hushed for now, or I might actually end up in a looney bin this time around, she instantly concluded with a faint smile.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. Uh. You said something about lunch?"

"Right. Yes, of course. I just wanted to come grab these guys, it's time for their midday meal, as well as their exercise time. We like to let them come out and enjoy some playtime out back. Chikorita here for example needs some ample sun time, being a grass-type, as does Totodile, being cold-blooded."

He straightened as he motioned to the green, leafy creature and then the blue scaled crocodilian. All three began to trail after him toward the doorway and she followed, mindful to not step on any of them. As she followed after them all, she only half-listened to the professor as he continued to prattle on about the other pokémon he's studied and the interest in how some evolve and others simply don't. Her focus was tuned more to the wary looks cast her way by the three pokémon she was tailing, as well as the hushed whispers between them.

Whispers, she observed, that were apparently about her and how she didn't quite smell human.

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She stared at the woman in the reflection in the mirror, her brow furrowing. The reflection twin did the same, a look of intense concentration crossing her features. Lupin's gaze roamed over the eyes first, as they always did: the left was a clear and hot gold, the right was a stormy blue-gray. Her hair was long, dark brown, wavy. The tips, however, were a deep and dark red, almost like blood, which was already chilling enough, but it seemed like a natural colour, no dye job required or needed. She peeled back her lips, just enough to show the pointed tips of her canines: too long and sharp to be considered normal for a human. Her nails were the same, growing in thick, pointed tips if she didn't clip them after a few days. Across the bridge of her nose, and trailing an almost-L shape across her right cheek, was a thin scar, as though made by a blade.

In fact, a good portion of her body was covered in scars, most made, she assumed, by some giant beast that had sunk its fangs and talons into her body for hunting practice. Her back, belly, both shoulders, left forearm, left thigh and right ankle—they all looked like they'd been broken, ravaged or crushed by a large animal. The only other scars that seemed to be made of something else were burns or cuts. Worry gnawed at her gut, making her continue to wonder just what the hell kind of life she'd led, to earn such grievous looking scars across her body. And how could she have survived? She wasn't exactly thick or bulky enough to spare room for such brutal attacks.

Her focus, however, finally diverted away from the scars, and settled on the two protrusions sticking out of her head, and her backside. Furry ears, the same mixture of dark brown and deep red, twitched atop her head. The base of where they started on the side of her skull lined up where a regular human ear would start, curved upwards until it formed the outline and base of the ear. They were rather canine in nature, thick and pointed, not small and near-triangular shaped like a cat's would be.

And then there was the tail. Where the tailbone in a human should have ended, hers continued into a soft, but thick and bushy tail. Same as her hair, it was dark brown, tipped in a deep reddish colour. It swayed and twitched and cricked and puffed and she could move it at will, same as the ears. But, half the time, when she wasn't thinking on either of them, they would move accordingly to her mood, making them appear almost vocal in some instances.

…if she allowed anyone else to see, that is. Gut instinct told her to keep things hidden for the time being. Why else had she been wearing the hat and the long coat, if not to hide her unusual features? It was no wonder that the pokémon in Professor Elm's charge were all skittish and wary around her. Well, except for the one or two oddities that didn't seem to give a damn, but still. The majority of them took care to avoid her.

It didn't help that she could smell in the inhumanness of herself as well.

In fact, she could smell quite a lot, and not just herself. The scent of the forest surrounding New Bark Town was brought in from all directions on the breeze. Something new was always on it, and when it came back again, she could recognize it. Flowers, dirt, trees, animals, water; everything. She could tell if there was a river two hundred feet or two miles away from just one whiff on the wind. She could tell if a flock of birds was nearby and she was downwind or if there was a storm coming in from the distance. She could smell the myriad of people living in town, when the wind shifted just right, and pick out the young, elderly, healthy, and sick with a single whiff. It felt new and exciting, yet familiar and old all at once. Natural, even.

So it's safe to assume I was like this beforehand, she reasoned, pushing back on the sink away from her reflection. Her ears gave a twitch and the mirrored doppelganger did the same in reverse. She turned toward the walk-in shower and twisted the knob, allowing the water to start up and get hot. But this doesn't account for what I am. Just that I'm not…human. Am I one of the monsters in that journal I have?

She'd read every description inside that thing, from front to back, cover to cover. She knew nearly every line, drawing, sketch, and scribble by heart. The closest assumption she could assume, if she had been the one to write it, was she was one of those…werewolf creatures.

Super strength, speed, stamina, endurance, senses, healing…just about everything superior to a human.

The thought made her frown as she stuck her hand into the steady stream of hot water. Tossing the towel around her onto the sink counter, she stepped under it, her muscles already relaxing into mindless putty.

The thought of not being human didn't chill her to the bones, not really. It just confirmed what she already knew. It felt like a fact, and at this point, it certainly qualified as one. The only thing that chilled her at this point, was she couldn't remember everything else. I have puzzle pieces with no pictures on them. I have them, they're there…they're just blank. Like my brain.

She sighed. One step at a time.

Maybe she needed more than hours on end staring at objects from her pockets. She'd been entertaining the idea of asking the professor if she could find some work to do around the lab, perhaps acquaint herself more with the pokémon in it. Get them used to her, so that they didn't quiver and whisper and scowl as she passed them by. It was beginning to grate her nerves more than hurt her feelings at this point. And maybe doing something familiar would jog some of her memories.

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The next few days were rather…colourful. And eventful. Her memory didn't magically come back. The fears of the pokémon the professor cared for didn't dissipate. But, she did conclude, that there was some progress. There was less tension in the air as the days passed, but it was slow. The pokémon were getting used to seeing her, at the very least. She helped with the meal preparations, and in retrieving them for exercise outside in the afternoon, and then rounding them up in the evening twilight for dinner, the day's last few tests, and then bed.

By week's end, the routine seemed to help in easing the jitteriness and worry, giving her something useful to do. The only break in pattern was when the police returned. They came back to follow up on her, and had brought the physician they had with them the night she'd been found back as well. She was checked out again, asked what she assumed were routine medical questions, although she refused to take her coat or hat off in their presence.

"It…I don't feel comfortable taking it off, it feels…normal," had been her hesitant response when asked why. There were looks exchanged—sympathy, she noted, and it made her stomach churn at the sight—but she wasn't pressed to remove either. But the card was played right; it made them feel like she was recovering, even though that wasn't the case. Far from it.

"Do you remember your name?"

"I found some dog tags around my neck. After you guys left, I mean."

"Can I see them?"

Reluctantly, Lupin removed them, offering them to the awaiting hand of the physician while the police hovered nearby, scribbling in their notepads. Dogs sat at the heels of the officers, coloured a dark, rusty orange with pale, creamy bellies and dark jagged stripes, eyeing her with bright blue eyes. They occasionally wagged their bushy tails when she met their gazes, but otherwise, acted like silent sentinels. The professor and his assistant occasionally popped in to quietly check their progress, but they didn't interfere with what was going on.

The physician looked over the imprinted information, coffee-brown eyes moving back and forth before she smiled at Lupin, and handed them to the officer beside her. He took it, and began recording the information on his pad.

"It seems you were in the military, although I don't recognize the format for these ID tags. Perhaps you came from…Kalos? Or maybe Sinnoh. There's also the Hoenn and Unova regions. I doubt Kanto, we're next door neighbors after all and New Bark Town gets a lot of traffic for trainers moving to and from, although we won't rule any one place out. We can start using the information on your tags, and perhaps get some answers from that. It's possibly you have someone who cares for you put in a missing person's report, if you've been gone for a long time without communicating with them. Perhaps even the military is looking for you."

That didn't sound good. Was she a deserter? She hoped not. Then she remembered the pictures in her wallet, of all those smiling faces, and how none of them seemed familiar to her. Could one of them be missing her? Maybe if she found one of them, they could help her recover what she's lost. Maybe she could remember if she saw them in person, heard their voice…

The physician took advantage of her quiet pause to pull out a white and red ball from the depths of her bag. Lupin eyed it warily before it split open, seemingly of its own accord. A red light burst forth, taking shape beside the physician until a solid form stood beside the seated woman. Lupin's first impression was tall, graceful, and willowy.

Then details began to sink in. The pokémon before her was definitely slim in form, draped in a white, gown-like lower body, the upper body just as willowy and thin and cut out with a minty-green pattern. A single, cherry-red eye stared down at her, the other hidden by long, curling green hair over its face. The pokémon regarded with a cool and quiet gaze, arms hanging gracefully at its side before moving to clasp in front of it as it turned to glance at the physician, awaiting orders.

"This is my Gardevoir, Laila. She usually helps me with some patients who suffer from head trauma. It sometimes helps with those who can't be given usual medical procedures, for whatever reason. In your case, I think this would count." She paused to push back the glasses on the bridge of her nose back up. "I'd take you to the hospital and go through the usual round of testing, but without a medical history, I don't want to risk you having an allergic reaction to something we'd need to inject you with to get our results. For now, this will have to suffice."

The Gardevoir bowed her head in response to the introduction. Lupin returned the gesture.

"So, what exactly does she do?"

"She examines your head for any outside trauma we may not be able to detect and goes from there. I think after a week, however, you'd show signs of any problems and you seem rather healthy, just like you did the night you were found. A little shaken up, but nothing physically wrong with you, it seemed. No nausea, dizziness, blackouts, headaches of any sort, right?"

"Yeah. That's right." Lupin nodded again. She glanced at the officers. They were no longer writing in their notebooks, and the one who still had her dog tags leaned forward long enough to hand them back. Lupin slipped the chain over her head again.

"All right, then. After that, we can look deeper; maybe see what's causing you to not remember. It's not a surefire way to get anything out of that head of yours, but it might help loosen things up. Although, we'll first need your written consent and I have the paperwork with me. I don't want to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. This is, after all, a psychic pokémon we're dealing with. They have to get inside your head to help you, and some people aren't comfortable with somebody in their head like that."

Lupin eyed the Gardevoir warily now, brows creasing slightly in worry. She weighed her options and found she didn't have very many. Slowly, she inclined her head into another nod.

"I won't get answers by sitting on my hands," she admitted. The physician smiled again, nodded in return, and dipped back into the bag she'd brought with her. She produced a clipboard with rustling pages attached to it, but she paused to look at the officers behind her.

"Could you give us some space, please? I'd rather her feel somewhat comfortable without you two looming behind me."

"Of course, Ms. Joan. Just give us a holler if you need us back."

With a whistle to their pokémon, the two turned heel and out of the makeshift office-space-turned-bedroom. Then Lupin was left alone with the physician and her Gardevoir. Lupin took the paperwork from the woman, reading through the policies, conditions, and explanations regarding the procedure beforehand. She paused midway, reading over a passage several times.

"Different types of amnesia…" She lifted her gaze back up from the printed words, fingers rubbing at the pages, twitching to do more than shuffle them about but she wasn't sure what. The pen in her other hand tapped against her leg. "What kinds are there?"

"Several, actually. And they can stem from psychological to physical. Some forms of amnesia can serve as a defense mechanism to deal with a trauma someone has sustained, whether it was the one or the other, or even both. Some have short-term, meaning it's only temporary, and others are long-term, which…could be permanent. But those are just a few. The human brain is a very complex organ and unique to every individual. Your case could very well clear itself up over time. You should always hope for the best."

The woman sounded sympathetic and motherly in a way. It hit her hard, out of nowhere, the wandering thought of what her mother must look like. Does she miss me? Does she know I'm missing? Is she…is she still alive?

She had to repress the sudden, vile feeling of nausea that rippled through her core. The Gardevoir beside the physician shifted, training her eye on her and she gave a soft noise of disapproval, moving closer. She raised a hand and placed it on her brow, making a soft humming noise in the back of her throat.

"Mmm. That won't do. Trying to force it won't make it come any quicker," she said quietly, softly with all the concern and warmth she could muster. Which was to say, quite surprisingly, a lot. Lupin felt a warmth spread through her, a relaxation easing the tension in her limbs, and she remembered what Ms. Joan had called Gardevoir: a psychic-type pokémon.

"Laila, not yet, please. She needs to finish signing if she wants to do this."

The Gardevoir nodded and removed her hand. Lupin held that red stare for a few moments longer before dropping her gaze back down to the paperwork. She finished skimming, scribbling her name in looping, jerky letters and passed the forms and clipboard back to the other woman. Then, only then, did she finally nod to the Gardevoir, who moved forward once more. Soft, warm hands brushed her brow again, moving back red-tipped hair from her gaze and settling against her flesh.

Hope was all she had at this point.

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