Warning: this could be considered graphic, if you're squeamish or cannot handle some medical gore for whatever reason, I suggest you skip the first part.


Bright white light spilled from overhead from what appeared to be a non-existent source, blinding me as I blinked against its stark harshness, trying to make sense of where I was.

Dimly I became aware that I was moving, the light above me becoming duller occasionally as I seemingly glided underneath it. It was a disconcerting experience, to be moving, but not truly having control over where my body was headed.

It was though a fog blocked out the world, distorting my ability to think. I felt as though I was dreaming, but something ominous lurked on the edge of my hazy mind, an unpleasant bitterness on my tongue that had me convinced that I was awake. Heaviness wound its way through my stomach, unpleasant and thick.

The cloud that settled over my mind had also cast its shadow over my senses. My vision blurred as I stared upwards, unable to distinguish exactly what it was moving above me. My hearing was muffled, as though someone had placed cotton wool over my ears, and I caught snippets of sound that I had trouble understanding.

"Adolescent caucasian female…*beep beep*…-tiple lacerations, suspected internal blee-…tried to teach me how…..severe injury to upper….*click*….-ssble spinal damage…awake when I'm….state of shock…*beep beep*.…ETA to A&E…..…blood transfusions..….-sponsive."

Muddled words floated through my head, intertwining with a distantly familiar tune, a constant, harsh beeping and a mechanical hum. The odd assortment of noise added to my uneasiness, further proof that I was awake – my dreams rarely included sound.

Suddenly something was hovering above me; a dark shape that was haloed by the incandescent light above.

Straining my eyes I tried to give it some clarity, striving to make sense of the shapes floating to front of me. The straight line there could be a nose – or was it a jawline? No, a nose! I realised as two blue orbs came into focus and revealed themselves to be eyes. It was a person!

Belatedly, I noticed that their mouth was moving, and I struggled to comprehend what they were saying. "-r me? If you can hear me, please squeeze my hand?" The voice sounded concerned and distant, as if I was trying to hear through wall, but I managed to understand the gist of what they wanted.

Squeeze the hand? Sounded easy enough. Concentrating, I tried to extend my senses further than sight and sound, stretching my awareness to the rest of my body.

Abruptly, agony flared through me, as though reaching out with my senses had opened a hidden flood gate, a tidal wave of pain crashed through me as my muscles involuntarily constricted against the pain.

I had never felt anything on this level before, its presence savagely replacing any coherent thoughts with white hot pain. The person was forgotten as my mind sought to escape from this sudden, brutal, onslaught. Again, fog covered my world, thicker than before.

The irritating, shrill, beeping from before picked up its incessant pace in the background, causing a rise in the disjointed buzzing that had to belong to voices. I felt a brief, almost unnoticed flash of annoyance towards it, a tiny blip on my radar compared to the pain that was wreaking havoc on my body.

I barely noticed that soft, soothing voice from earlier speaking to me, individual words lost on me, their efforts reduced to a steady murmur before a slightly cold sensation brushed against my arm.

A thick drowsiness seemed to encompass me, convincing me that I needed to sleep, anything to get away from this pain. I welcomed the unexpected leaden weight of my eyelids, pink filling my vision as they slid closed, seeking flight from the claws of agony that gripped me.


I ascended the path to wakefulness rather sluggishly, my mind lazily spiralling upwards from sleep, slowly bringing my attention to the heavy dull feeling that had settled over me. It reminded me of the rare times that I had overslept, as if my body wanted to linger in the unfamiliar luxury of laziness.

Fluttering my eyelids open I was forced to squint against the sterile white of the room I was in.

Where am I? I wondered, drawing in a deep breath of air that was laced with the chemical smell of disinfectant.

Trying to moisten my lips, I caught sight of a drip in my arm. What? Why is that there? What happened?

A slight noise to my right caught my attention, something halfway between a cough and somebody clearing a throat. Turning my head I saw a woman standing in the doorway. She threw a bright smile my way, a cheery jaunt to her steps as she walked into the room. "Finally awake I see. Hello. I'm the nurse on duty right now. How are you feeling?"

Finally? How long had I been asleep?

"Fi-ne. A bit tir-ed." was my rusty reply, my voice sounding thick and hoarse as though it hadn't been used in a fair while. I grimaced to myself, my throat felt dry and cracked, I needed something to drink.

The nurse nodded, as though she had expected to hear something like that. "That's normal, nothing to worry about" she grinned. "Can I get you anything?"

"Water" I croaked, not liking how heavy the word felt. I watched her as pottered about in the corner, filling up a paper cup to bring over. I thanked her as she handed it to me, and took a sip. Relief bloomed in my throat as I swallowed the water. "Why am I here?" I asked as she moved towards the end of the bed.

The nurse frowned slightly, eyes tightening – blue that seemed distantly familiar. "Don't you remember?" She questioned, traces of concern adorning her features as she picked up the clipboard at the end of the bed.

I paused, trying to think back. I remember getting on the bus to school. Looking for Latios on my DS. There was something I was staring at through the window. Oh. Ohh. Unwanted images sprung unbidden to the forefront of my mind.

A kaleidoscope of coloured hair, the terrified stare of the truck driver, my DS clattering onto the floor, the inhuman screaming of metal on metal, the warped innards of a bus, twisted beyond belief.

"The bus crashed" I whispered, horrified, freezing as the memory of the accident replayed itself in my head.

A sympathetic look passed across the nurse's face. "I'm sorry" She said, looking sombre for a moment before returning to her more cheerful persona.

"You took quite the blow to the head you know. I just want to ask you a few little questions and do a few little tests just to make sure everything's okay up there alright?"

Still reeling at the implications of the crash, I just grunted in agreement. "Okay, we'll start with an easy one" She grinned "What's your name?"

That was a pretty easy question. "Evelyn" I answered distractedly. "Evelyn Maple" tacking on my surname as an afterthought.

"Evelyn huh?" The nurse echoed the corners of her lips quirking up into a smile. "That's a pretty name. Mine's Joy." She said happily as she scrawled it down onto the clipboard.

"Thanks." I smiled back at her. A nurse named Joy huh? How cool. "Now what about your date of birth?"

Another easy question. "The Third of April, Nineteen Ninety Six" I stated confidently, the familiar words rolling off my tongue.

"Oh, So you turn seventeen In just over a week then? That's exciting." She said perkily, flashing me yet another grin.

This woman and her damn grins...wait. What?! A Week?! But my birthday was just over a month and a half away. That would mean…

"Nurse," I began quietly, "How long have I been asleep for?"

An uncomfortable look made its way on to her face.

"Well you see dear, you were pretty beaten up. You had some heavy internal bruising and all those nasty glass cuts everywhere. Not to mention that big old bump on your noggin. The doctors had to put you into a bit of a deep sleep for a little while, while you got better. You're almost all better now; most of those scratches have healed up, except for a few of the nastier cuts, and your stitches will come out very soon, we were just waiting for you to wake up. Your poor ribs might feel a little tender though; you'll have to be careful with how you move for a little while okay? You banged them up pretty good" She explained, a hesitant smile on her face as she looked away, not quite meeting my eyes.

My god, I was in a coma. There was silence for a moment as I absorbed the information.

"How long?" I questioned again, suddenly feeling an overwhelming need to know that one fact.

"Just over three weeks." She said quietly, still fiddling with the clipboard.

Three weeks, I thought to myself dazedly.

For some reason that sounded like an unimaginably long amount of time. I knew that in actuality it wasn't very long at all, but my head seemed to repeat that like it was a mantra, so I couldn't avoid it. Three weeks. Three weeks. Three weeks.

I felt slightly guilty. Mum would have had to take that time off work to care for the kids. And school. I'll have a lot to catch up on I worried, biting my lip.

The nurse's voice cut off my internal musing.

"I'm just going to ask you to do a few little things now to test your reflexes alright sweetie?" she asked, gazing at me, waiting for approval. I just nodded, and she threw me another quick smile.

The chatter was kept to a minimum as the nurse performed a few simple tests to ensure that my reaction rates were functioning on an average level and after being given the all clear and informed that the doctor would be in to see me soon, Joy left with a jolly smile and little wave, her name reflected by her optimistic nature.

Sighing I stared out smallish window to the left of the room. The glass was slightly murky with traces of dirt littering its panes, but there was still a rather unobstructed view of the city skyline.

Still pondering over the fact that I had been in a coma, I realized that there was something that seemed a little off, something I couldn't quiet put my finger on that didn't add up. My eyebrows scrunched together as I tried to grasp whatever it was that I was missing. It would come to me, I was sure. It was just a matter of time.

A knock on the door frame drew my interest back to the right side of the room where an elderly man with a robust figure and square glasses was standing, holding a tray in his left hand and a stethoscope in his right.

He raised one eyebrow. "Yer up then" was his gravelly assessment, his voice carrying something that sounded similar to a Scottish accent.

"Good." He took a step into the room, his movement stiff, joints showing the signs of his age. " I'm Dr. Ruthman. We have erhbit to talk abouts we do."


Sitting on a brightly decorated bench near one of the exists to the hospital gardens and a pen in my left hand poised to draw, I stared absentmindedly down at the yellow lined paper of the notebook that one of the nurses at the reception desks on my ward had very kindly managed to procure for me.

The bland hospital room had gotten to me; the walls have eventually started to feel as though they were closing in, like some kind of cage designed to trap me.

I had ventured outside in hopes that sketching something would help me to relax. It had soothed me a little to be in the open air, the methodical scribbling of pen on paper calming me some.

Now though, I had found my mind drifting back to that odd feeling that I had gotten earlier when waiting to speak to the doctor. It was if I was forgetting something, but for the life of me I couldn't remember what exactly it was.

The doctor had sat me down to talk to me about a few things.

First and foremost was the extent of the injuries that I had received that particular discussion using many large words that I didn't comprehend.

I had eventually managed to break it down into a simplified list; multiple scratches from the glass, most of which had already grown over, the new skin a dusky pink. There was one rather noticeable exception; a line of deep jagged cuts that had started on the back of my right hand and had wound their way up my arm to my elbow, marring the skin. They had needed stitches, which the doctor had removed earlier.

Fractured ribs were another thing; tiny hairline cracks that I had been told were healing nicely, although I had found that moving the wrong way caused a dull ache to radiate from them.

Internal bruising, which made sense as I had been thrown around like I was a living ragdoll on the bus.

The last injury that I had added to my little list was something that I found rather alarming; the rather large cut that made its way from the left temple to the back of my head, curving down to end across the nape of my neck.

The line was an angry red, little puckered patches of skin lined the sides of the monstrosity where the stitches had been.

The hair around it was missing; it had been shaved off, at contrast with the rest of my lengthy caramel strands. Dr. Ruthman had told me that it had been a necessity to assess the wound.

He has told me that this particular wound had been dangerous – it had put me at the risk of not only spinal damage, but severe brain damage as well.

When the team of ER doctors had assessed me and noticed my high state of shock and the dangerously large amounts of blood I had lost they had decided to put me in a coma in hopes of reducing the risk of brain damage, keeping me under until I was in the safe zone.

It worried me, and I was amazed at how lucky I was right now, to have lived through that accident. It could have gone so much worse…..

There was something else that the doctor had picked up on in my blood work, the gist of his complex medical jargon eluded me, but what it broke down into was the fact that I had missed a particular series of important vaccinations over the course of my life.

He had explained what they were for to me, stressing how they were not only important for my safety, but something important for those around me – they were to protect everybody from a virus that had been created a few years ago.

I still wasn't really sure what that meant, - I thought viruses were born? But when he had asked me if I wanted to get the injections done I had tentatively nodded my head.

Mum had always had her suspicions towards vaccinations after Dad had passed, yet I didn't share her reservations.

If Dad could spend his time developing them, then they couldn't really be that dangerous could they?

Sighing, I tried to shake those thoughts. I didn't really want to think about Dad, not right now, when I was already feeling frazzled.

Instead I concentrated back on the paper, my pen sketching out a pair of anime eyes, swiftly followed by a face, and a body. No-one in particular, just doodling.

My pen went back to trace a couple of lines more heavily, the thick black ink creating the illusion of depth.

Pausing I surveyed my work. A warrior faced me from the yellowed pages, a heroic stance, tattered cape rippling out in the breeze. Determination coloured his gaze as he faced an unseen, off-page challenge. A few of the lines were wrong, and the proportions were a bit dodgy, but I was pleased with it.

Flicking over the page, I started on another picture, mapping out intricate, meaningless patterns, something that absorbed my concentration. Lines twined around each other, a tangled web of ink.

A flash of movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Turning my head, I frowned at the object lying next to me that previously hadn't been there. Reaching out with my injured hand I picked it up for a closer look.

It was a feather, unlike any I'd seen before. It was about as long as my index finger, crafted out of some kind of silvery metal. Iridescent light reflected from it, rainbows spinning from its surface. I was amazed at the detail that had gone into it; each individual filament was light and flexible, all sprouting from the metal shaft, just like a real feather. The edges looked sharp, but I wasn't about to touch them to find out.

I was puzzled, confused about how the metal feather had landed on the bench next to me. Surely something with such an exquisite amount of craftsmanship behind it would be worth some kind of money. So why is it here? I mused. Pursing my lips, I surveyed the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of its owner. My search revealed nothing except a lone bird soaring high above the city and the nurse that had been sent to watch me as I relaxed.

Taking a deep breath of city air I dismissed the silly notions half forming in my head. Birds aren't made of metal.

I froze for a second as my eyes rested on an unfamiliar skyscraper towards the edge of the city. When did that get built? I wondered. Obviously I had missed its construction - It wasn't common for me to venture out from my little section of the sprawling metropolis, yet the fact that it had gone entirely unnoticed made me wince. I need to get out more.

Eyes drifting back to the feather, I squinted at it as I moved it this way and that, changing its angle to see the sun gleam off it's odd surface. I hadn't seen any kind of metal like it before. Hoping that whoever owned it would forgive me, I tucked it into the pocket of the crisp, starched hospital pants I was wearing. I would turn it into the nurse later I figured, but for now I was content to keep enjoying the space and fresh air, eager to stay away from the heady, repulsive scent of antiseptic and the looming walls of my hospital room.

Despite my contention to bask in the late winter sun, the nurse was determined to keep me on a schedule now that I had woken up, so it was inevitable that I found myself back in the dull room, attempting to munch on the mushy, cardboard- flavoured anomaly that passed as hospital food.

My gaze roamed over the place, taking in the speckled, marble flooring and the faint cracks in the ceiling. Disquiet settled over me again as I observed my surroundings. There was something not right here, something missing, I decided as I stared around at the too-white room. Something about the lack of colour disturbed me. It'll come to me, I figured. I had trouble remembering things sometimes – part of the reason I spent so long studying, but I had found over the years that things would come easier to me if I didn't push at it too hard.

Instead, I tried to focus on other, less worrisome things, but not many were forthcoming. My mind was still in partial shock over the fact that I had been in an accident, one serious enough to put me in a coma – induced or otherwise. I could feel weariness settle into my bones as the strain of today took its toll, and despite the fact that it was still early – the sun was still up, I sunk into sleep.


Hello again!

I had meant to get this out much sooner, but I've been having a few issues lately - my internet has been very dodgy and I managed to slice up my hand, making typing a pain, but I'm mostly recovered now, so here's hoping for faster updates. Also, random, there is a tornado meant to hit my house at somepoint tonight. It's odd as I don't live in an area that usually gets tornadoes - I think that there has been one in the last 50 or so years.

Thank you very much for the reviews, I'm very glad to receive them, the feedback is brilliant. I'm hoping to improve as a writer as this gets posted, so please keep them coming.

Small note; I'm not entirely sure as to how the seasons cycle during the year in Kanto, so I've decided to have winter fall over the Christmas holiday period which plays along with my plot ideas nicely.

DISCLAIMER: Pokemon never has and never will belong to me.

Anyways, here is the next chapter, I hope that you enjoyed it, please tell me what you think.

Thing XX