Chapter Seventeen:
Bonds

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 how Pokémon look 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

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We'll have the days we break
And we'll have the scars to prove it
We'll have the bonds that we save
But we'll have the heart not to lose it
-"Marchin' On" by One Republic

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The cemetery was quiet and quaint, tucked away in a small corner of Violet City, subtly out of sight, but could be found easily enough when needed. The grounds were mostly flat, with only a few rolling slopes here and there. Several flowering trees were planted, here and there, each with their own resting bench beneath their arching, shady branches. Many of the grave markers had bouquets of flowers laid upon them, small signs of love and respect for lost companions, friends, life partners. Lupin sat at one of the benches, right beneath a blooming magnolia tree, its white budding flowers slowly peeking open to greet the springtime air. Riptide sat beside her, leaning slightly on the werewolf.

Nearly the entire weekend had passed and after burying Syd, neither of them had felt much motivation to leave the confines of the center. They both knew they eventually would have to, and this was as good a place to start as any. Yet, barely five minutes in, Lupin found she couldn't move any further from the bench she had eventually parked herself on and continued to let the minutes crawl right past her. Riptide was, for once, just as content to allow her to wallow. He felt the same jagged puncture inside as she was feeling at having lost a teammate. He didn't always get along with Syd, but he had slowly found the Pidgey charming enough to consider him a friend. All too quickly, however, it had been snatched away. Life was cruel. Death was no different. He knew and understood this, but it didn't make the truth any less painful.

Lupin stirred beside him, the first time in what seemed an eternity. He tilted his head to better view her, and he saw her staring back at him. She placed a hand along the scutes of his backside, massaging her fingers into the muscles so it could be felt. He sighed heavily, laying his head across her lap.

"We can't stay here all day," she finally said, moving her fingers upward to the back of his skull, gently digging them into the spots he liked. His eyes closed on reflex, both sets of eyelids sliding shut. All too soon, the firm massage against his head stopped altogether and he grudgingly peeped them back open. He relented with a nod, acknowledging her.

"I just…really don't want to get up yet."

He sat up a little more, crooning softly and glancing at the modest bouquet she'd gotten for Syd's grave. Her fingers kept wrapping and unwrapping around the ribbon that tied the stems together. If she kept it up, she'd unravel it completely and ruin the little bow. He lifted himself higher onto his back legs and reached out to pat her hand with his paw. She stilled her fidgeting movements and glanced back down at him.

"I can't speak for the birdbrain directly, but I don't think he'd want you to be this sad for this long. I don't mean for you to just up and forget him, either, just to forgo the pain, but this…this happens to trainers. Some people lose their pokémon. You should mourn your losses, but you should also learn from the lessons those losses gave you."

Lupin stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. Her mismatched eyes bore into his, unrelenting and guarded. When she reached forward to rub at his head again, he took it as a positive cue. She stroked along his scutes again, massaging into the harder places that reaped the best rewards. She finished all too soon once again, but this time, heralded him onto her shoulders. He hauled himself up with her help and once he was settled, he gave her shoulder a light pat.

"You really are getting bigger," she commented offhandedly as she stood and started walking. Her hand lifted his tail as demonstration, which had gotten just a smidgeon larger. Even the larger red plating along his backside and tail, he noted, were starting to get a little bigger.

"And I told you before: trained pokémon grow quicker than feral ones do," he replied, giving her cheek a light smack with his paw. "By the time I'm a Croconaw, I'm sure I'll stand up to your waist."

There it was. A smile. It was faint and brief, but it was there. It was something better than the blank slate she's been for the past few days. The werewolf reached up to scratch at the gator's head. He leaned into the touch, feeling relief at the slight step back into normalcy. The moment was broken, however, when she stopped walking. He turned his head to look and felt his stomach drop away unexpectedly.

The normalcy dropped away just as quickly.

Time seemed to pass at a sluggish pace. Seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes seemed to turn into hours. And yet, at the same time, it went by them too quickly. The flowers were laid upon the quaint little gravestone, a moment of silence was given, and then all of it was left behind in the same wake of silence they had arrived in. The Sprout Tower beyond rose above all other buildings in the city like a beacon. Before either of them knew it, the pagoda was before them, imposing and silent. The little Bellsprout statues that stood on either side of the doors didn't look as charming or goofy like they had the first time. Lupin strolled closer, pausing in the garden. Above them, a flock of Pidgey flew in perfect unison, weaving back and forth until they landed near the top of the pagoda. The two of them watched for a time.

"Do you think we should tell them?"

"Would it matter? He wasn't in their flock anymore. They knew the risks. Whether he was still with them, or with us, they knew one day he'd die. Maybe not quite this soon, but…eventually. It happens to all living things. It's sad, but it's the truth. It'd be stupid to think otherwise. Nothing lasts forever."

She nodded, although he suspected it was more an automatic reaction than actual agreement. He gave her cheek a nudge with his snout.

"We should start heading back. We still have some of that paperwork to finish."

"What's with the 'we' stuff? I do all the writing and reading."

"And yet, I have the insight you don't. Therefore, team effort." He paused, letting out a hiss of air. "And we haven't trained any of the pokémon you've caught. We need at least one of them trained up enough to stand up to this battle test."

"I know…I know." She sighed, turning on her heel to make her way back the way she'd come. "I know. I just…just…"

He nudged her with his snout. "And I know," he replied, reading into her aggravation. "We have only a few hours left of daylight. Perhaps we could go to that park we passed on the way here, and train one of them."

"I guess," she finally consented, nodding. She dug into her coat pockets, groping for the pokéballs she had there, only to find…nothing. She swiped into her other pockets, stopping in her tracks. She groaned.

"Don't tell me: you conveniently left them back at the room, didn't you? After three days of having them in your coat pocket, you took them out today, of all days."

She blew a raspberry, loud and unashamed, before nodding. "Yep."

"…this is turning out to be a wonderful day."

"Gee, thanks, Sarcasm Gator. I really needed that."

"I aim to please. Now, let's hurry back to the center. Might as well take this time to choose which one you're going to use."

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Time was of no factor to him. It passed both in a blur and at a lethargic, painstaking pace. He barely remembered anything in the past several days, except for the sadness. It ate away at his gut, his heart, everything. He hadn't moved from his spot behind the Wooper Café. He was determined to keep scavengers like Rattata and Raticate away. He kept telling himself it was to make sure they didn't kill and eat his master, but he already knew it was just a half-hearted lie. He just didn't want to admit it to himself yet.

The thought of the elderly man hurt. He was gone. One minute, he had been there, talking to Bullet, and then the next…gone. He'd petered out, trailed off, and what little life had been left in his eyes died. The Growlithe tried to wake him up, but to no avail. There was no fanfare. There was no sudden stop of the world at his master's passing. Everyone else in Violet City just kept on going about their business. The days passed. His hunger grew, but it didn't motivate him enough to get up and find something to eat. So he laid there in the alleyway beside his master.

It wasn't until the scuffle of footsteps echoing closer that had gotten him out of his sleepy stupor. He saw boots first. He bolted upright, trying to shove the tiredness aside in a hurry as he sluggishly pieced together who was intruding. He growled halfheartedly, only to be met by soft coos and cajoling from the two humans heading toward him, murmuring words of reassurance and ease. They tried making themselves small and slow—slower than usual, that is—but he remained defensive and growled at them, unrelenting. Too close, they were too close. He barked at them to go away, but they weren't scared. One of them had a noose for catching stray pokémon and animals alike in Violet City. The other was a police officer. He had another Growlithe with him, but this one was bigger, cleaner, stronger. Bullet almost shrunk back at the sight of the other pokémon. But he couldn't. He had a job to do. He wouldn't let his fear get in the way.

The Growlithe stepped forward, looking both intimidating and placating all at once. The two humans kept their distance, allowing their Growlithe to step forward closer.

"Hey there, little guy. Easy there, I'm not here to hurt ya, I promise."

Bullet growled back, showing his teeth. The bigger puppy pokémon was unperturbed by the display.

"Look, little guy…you can't stay here. The humans of this city are getting tired of you stealing from them. The last few complaints were the last straw. We're here to bring you in."

"I'm not a feral, I have a trainer!"

"Your trainer's dead," the other stated matter-of-factly. He nodded toward the pitiful shelter that had been home to Bullet and his master for as long as he could remember. Bullet gnashed his teeth, snarling when the other Growlithe made to come closer. He paused, then sat back down again, staring down at him like a disappointed parent. "I'm sorry. But you can't stay on the streets. You're going to eventually hurt someone or worse, they're going to end up hurting you. We have a nice program back near our district. We'll clean you up, get you a few good hot meals, and maybe even a nice trainer will pick you up. You look like you could use that."

Bullet almost fell for it. Almost. It sounded nice. It was tempting. The Growlithe had distracted him long enough for the two humans to sneak closer. Before he realized what was happening, the noose was snuggly wrapped around his neck. He snarled, feeling a weight on his back push him into the ground. His legs collapsed beneath him and air gushed out of his lungs from the force. He gazed upward at the other Growlithe, who stared impassively at him. Briefly, it broke, a trickle of pity lining his eyes before it was gone again when he gained praise from his trainer.

"Please, don't let them take me away—my master, he's right there, please—!"

The other Growlithe's eyes softened again with regret.

"Your master died. It smells like he's been dead for a few days. Can't you smell it?"

He could. He just didn't want to admit. It hurt too much.

A hand grappled for his muzzle. He snapped his teeth at the prodding fingers. He tasted blood and heard a curse above him. Bullet snarled and breathed deep, felt the fire in his belly flare up inside. The other Growlithe's eyes widened and he barked out a warning to his humans, but it was too late. Fire gushed from Bullet's mouth, spraying the alleyway and engulfing the other Growlithe. The weight on top of him fled in a hurry. He used the distraction to barrel through. He knocked over the bigger Growlithe and sped away. He heard them curse and shout and scream after him, but he was fast and before he knew it, he'd lost them. The noose around his neck clattered along beside him, causing such a ruckus, he almost thought it was chasing him at first. It spurred him to dump more energy into his pace, to pick up speed, to outrun the noisy pursuer. It beat against his flank, bruising them to the point of painful, but he didn't dare slow down, not for a long time.

His drive, however, quickly waned and he found his adrenaline rush depleted faster than he could remember. He was cold. He was hungry. The noose around his neck hurt, the stick it was attached to clattering along beside him. His leg was throbbing from where the stick had struck him repeatedly during his run. He barely had any fire left in him. He had used it all up to scare off the men and that traitorous Growlithe of theirs who had tried to take him away from his master. But he had no master, a tiny voice reminded him. He was with no home, no master, nothing. He was just another homeless stray.

I might as well be a feral, he thought morosely. There were packs of his kind roaming the forests beyond Violet City, weren't there? Maybe he could find one and join them. There was nothing left in this city for him. He was free, technically. The pokéball his master had was no longer valid. Or at least, he thought it wasn't. He wasn't sure how it all worked. Surely those two humans would destroy it now. Or maybe they'd steal it and try to take him away that way. The thought made him whine. He shouldn't have left it there, if that were the case.

Bullet whined again, stopping in his tracks to find himself in a vaguely familiar street. He sniffed the air and then looked up to the sky, searching for that tall pagoda. When in doubt, the Sprout Tower was a good landmark to reference off of. He was far from the Wooper Café, that was for sure, but they could be tracking him. If he were that other Growlithe, he'd just follow the scent marks of whoever it was he was tracking. It was common sense to follow your nose, after all.

Despite his exhaustion, he pushed himself into a fast trot, unsure of where to go. The forest, perhaps? Or back to where his master was still lying?

He came to a sudden halt, both at the despair and indecision romping about through his head, and from the aroma that assaulted his nose. It was that same, musky canine scent wrapped in a human-likeness, but not quite. It was girl and canine and reptile and feather dust mingling all at once, familiar and distant. It nagged at him, nibbling away at his conscious. Where had he taken a whiff of this scent before? It was recent, but there were plenty of scents like it in the city. So many trainers, and just as many pokémon. He pushed and prodded at the mystery scent mark, sniffing actively in the air, at the ground, until it clicked.

The woman with the Totodile and Pidgey.

His ears splayed against his head. Of all the scents he had to pick up on…

But then he perked. She wasn't so bad. She fed him and his master. Even if she had chased him first and sicced her pokémon on him, she had stopped when she realized why he stole her pastry. He whimpered. She wouldn't help him again, would she? She was kind of nice. She was the first person in a long while to actually look twice his way. The wind picked up, teasing him with all types of scents, but he followed after the woman's scent, tugged along by it, the maybes and what ifs clinging to his fur like water. Maybe she could talk to the humans. Maybe she could help his master.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

What if, what if, what if.

Every idea he had was nonsensical, wild, and unrealistic in some cases. But he clung to them anyway, because they distracted him from the truth. He caught wind of the two humans and that big Growlithe long before he saw them and diverted his path. He knew where he was headed already, he didn't need to follow the woman's scent any longer. She was staying at the center. Maybe he could find her there.

The trek back across the city left his paws singing with pain, his muscles aching, and his body feeling like lead weights. He passed by trainers on the street, no longer concerned with hiding from sight. He was too tired to duck and dodge. The sun was beginning to hide behind the taller buildings, leaving him to wander in the cool shade. It made him shiver, reminding him that his fire was nearly depleted. He whined, his head hanging low. It would take forever to heal up on his own, to let his fire replenish itself once more. Maybe he could get that girl to take this damnable thing off from around his neck, too.

The glow from streetlights began to illuminate the streets, mixed with the soft colours of the sky. It almost looked good enough to eat, and that thought made his stomach rumble and twist and he felt as though a pack of Rattata were gnawing away at him from the inside out.

The familiar sight and scent of Violet City's Pokémon Center came looming into sight when he made a turn around the final block. It was a beacon of hope to him, the light at the end of a long, winding tunnel and he was nearing a tiring, painful journey. He limped forward, dragging the noose along with him, the pole bumping against him to a rhythm: hurry, hurry, hurry. Rush, rush, rush.

He paused just outside the beam of lights casting across the street and sidewalk, however, hovering just inside the shadows. What if she wasn't there? What if she'd left the city?

He hadn't thought of that. The one person he hoped to find, and she might not be here. She could have moved on. She was just another traveling trainer, after all. They were nomads; they never stayed in one place for very long. He sniffed at the ground.

But…maybe he was jumping to conclusions. Her scent mark was still fresh. It smelled…sad. But fresh. He whined, ears slowly pressing to the top of his head as he slunk forward, trying to pick up on her trail, the freshest one. His ears flicked at the noise of a human crowing and he looked up to see a small child pointing excitedly at him as he and a bigger one, female and perhaps his mother, exited the center. One of those tubby water-types—a Marill, if he remembered correctly—held in his skinny arms.

"Mom, look, look! It's one of those police Growlithes!"

The woman crinkled her nose, patting the boy on the back. "Right, honey, that's right. Although, I don't think this one works in the department. It looks…dirty."

He snorted and barked back, "You try living on the streets and staying clean!"

The woman flinched, but the boy looked as intrigued. The Marill looked annoyed, glaring at him with its beady black eyes. The woman eyed the pole still dangling around Bullet's neck, her hand creeping up on her boy's shoulder and steering him away.

"Come on, we got Puff all healed up. Let's go home. Now."

"But mom, I wanna pet him—"

"You're not petting that filthy pokémon. Now let's go."

He growled and the Marill growled right back, going so far as to hop on the boy's shoulder to peer at the Growlithe.

"Oi! Fluffy! Stop pickin' on people!"

The new voice startled him and he jumped, glancing over his shoulder. All the tension in his body went slack. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. He didn't know whether to be scared or relieved. The woman was there. Her Totodile was curled around her shoulders like a scaly blue-and-red scarf. The Pidgey was missing, but at her feet was a Rattata. It watched him curiously, head cocked to the side, its small pink nose wiggling in the air as it sniffed.

The Totodile bristled, stirring on the woman's shoulder. She was dressed almost the same as before: long coat, dark clothes, and a hat over her head. She regarded him with those mismatched eyes, but it wasn't with the childish naiveté that boy had shown, or the suspicion and distaste his mother had that most others showed him. He knew he wasn't a very good pokémon sometimes. But he wasn't all bad. Some people saw it, like this woman.

She looked him over, from the noose and its pole, to his dirtied and haggard appearance, and last his face. He whined at her, ready to fall over and lay right there. He was too tired to move.

"So, you finally got caught. Serves you right. Shame there isn't someone attached to that pole of yours." The Totodile hissed. The woman glanced at the blue gator from the corner of her eye and gave him a mild scowl, flicking him upside the head.

"Be nice." She chided. That got Bullet's attention. She turned back to him and shuffled forward with a sigh, reaching for the pole. He stumbled away, but she caught it and made a 'calm down' motion with her hand. "Easy, there. I'm not gonna drag you down to the pound."

She reached slowly, gently loosening the noose from his neck until it slid free and it clattered to the ground, useless. He stared at it for a moment, then back at the woman.

"Thank you," he breathed, enjoying the freedom his neck had now that it was gone. "It was really starting to hurt."

"Shame it didn't hurt some more, thief," the Totodile snorted. Another light flick to the head shut him up. The woman smiled at him, letting him sniff her hand. He licked it in gratitude.

"You're welcome," she replied back. He stopped mid-lick and stared at her with wide eyes. The Rattata ventured closer, sniffing his fur before reeling back and hiding behind the woman.

"I-I—y-you can understand me?!"

She tilted her head a little at him. "Sure. From what I've seen, not many people can understand pokémon. But apparently, I'm one of those few who can."

He continued to stare with that slack-jawed expression. His shock allowed her a few quiet moments to study him more thoroughly and she took advantage of it to pat him on the head.

"Where's your master? The old man," she asked. Her smile dropped, however, when he hung his head and didn't answer. He didn't need to. The silence dragged on and she seemed to catch on. Her fingers scrubbed through his tangled fur. He winced when they caught on a particularly nasty knot. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I…"

Her hand stopped moving, and pulled away briefly. He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes and leaned into the touch until he opened them and pulled back himself, whining for more. An arm scooped up around his middle, picking him up. He yowled in surprise, but the grip didn't falter. The Rattata that had largely remained quiet and out of sight, was trotting ahead on quick little paws, with the woman carrying him into the center.

"Stop struggling. You're getting a bath—shut it, Riptide, no, we're helping him this time—and you're also getting a good healing up too. You look terrible."

"Wait—hey, wait a minute, you can't do—stop it, you can't do this!" He struggled more. This wasn't he had in mind when he thought of help from this woman. And now, he was regretting thinking about it in the first place. She veered across the front lobby toward a small, tucked away corner where a squashed comfy seat and small side table sat. Carefully, she set him on the table, and she plopped into the chair. The Totodile atop her shoulders—Riptide, she had called him—hissed and clung to her as she settled. The Rattata scrambled up into her lap. She patted his head, murmuring words of encouragement before returning him to his pokéball.

Bullet stared, waiting tensely.

"Your trainer's gone…Bullet, was it? That's what he called you, yeah?"

He wavered, uncertain, then nodded to her.

"I'm sorry, Bullet. But…you're about as well off as a wild pokémon. And from the looks of things, someone already tried to take you in with that noose."

"They tried, but I got away…" he murmured in agreement, casting his gaze to his front paws. Her hand was atop his head again, gently rubbing at his ears.

"If I let you go, you're going to keep having people on your tail. If that's what you want, I'll walk you out the front door and leave you alone. But…I have a proposition."

He looked up at her, and her hand fell back down to her lap. Riptide let out a guttural noise of displeasure.

"Oh, please don't. Not this one. Anyone but this one."

She ignored the Totodile and continued addressing him.

"If you'd like, you can come with me and Riptide here. You'd be safe from anyone trying to take you away again, and…you'd get a new start."

He stared at her, somewhat startled by it. It was more than he had imagined. It felt like more than he deserved. She waited, allowing the offer to hang in the air.

"You don't have to say yes tonight, but…I think a warm place to sleep and a clean coat of fur would be a welcome start, yes?" She vaguely motioned to the center and he glanced over his shoulder, seeing the sparse assortment of trainers and their pokémon that were loitering the lobby. Some were sitting at chairs and tables not unlike the one the woman sat in. His gaze slid back to the waiting woman and her narrow-eyed Totodile.

He had few choices to consider. Stay in the city and risk being taken in by those people from earlier and more like them; return to the wilds to try and find one of his own kind to live with; or perhaps go with this woman to places new and unknown. He was sure there were others, but at the moment, none of them were as appealing as the top three rolling around in his head. He looked back up at her, his ears perking up slightly and he scooted closer to the edge of the table.

"I'll go with you, I…I don't have…anywhere else to go. My master, he…"

"He was very old. And he…didn't seem quite there when I saw him last."

"He forgot stuff all the time…it's how we lost our home. It…it started small at first, but it…"

"Grew into more. That sounds like Alzheimer's. It happens to elderly people."

"Oh…I-I didn't…couldn't he have gone to the human healing center? To get cured? I should have done that, right, taken him there?"

"It's…not something that can be cured. Not permanently, anyway. But he looked like he'd lived a long life. I'm sorry the last small part of it was in the streets."

Bullet pressed himself to the table, hiding his snout under his paws. He didn't want to think about it anymore. It hurt too much to think that he'd just ran away. He should have stood his ground and stayed with his master, but then what? Shame was rising up inside him, making his stomach turn sour.

He'd have been back to this three-way decision. His ears were being rubbed again. He peeked up at the woman. She was still smiling at him. Riptide, not so much. But the Growlithe didn't care much for that grim gator. He kept his gaze on the woman.

"If you're sure about sticking around, then…welcome to the team, Bullet. Glad to have you here."

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