A very emotional, albet short, start to the fifth story arc. This is certainly going to be an emotional rollercoaster.
Story Arc Five: Conflict of Survival
Episode Fourty-Eight: Fatherhood
We left Alpha and the others behind as we continued on our grand adventure. I was taking it easy (for once) and sunning myself while laying ontop of Moron's backpack. Joanne had arrived a few minutes previously, with a few more of the Police force. Apparently, they had expected trouble. Well, they hadn't bargained on trying to get Pika out of a tree. The memory made me chuckle quietly.
Scyther had decided to stay in a Pokéball untill needed, saying that he preferred the solitude. Well each to his own. I preferred being outside, untill it decided to rain.
"Bugger. The one time I get to be lazy and it decides to bloody rain!" I grumbled, hopping off of the backpack and traipsing along on foot instead.
"Well it's not that bad," Squirtle laughed, "look over there. Cerulean City at last!"
I followed his gaze and spotted a huge cluster of buildings, just around the corner of the path we were on.
"I don't care where it is, as long as it has shelter from the bloody rain," I said, breaking into a sprint, on all fours, towards our destination.
A sudden sense of unease brought me too a halt as Squirtle caught up, struggling to regain his breath.
"Why'd you stop?" He wheezed.
"Something is wrong here," I said, all of my internal alarm bells were ringing.
There was a strange smell on the air, one that I remembered from my childhood. One that I would often remember in nightmares. The musky stench of death. I quickly spotted the cause of the strange scent. A white furred tail was laying on the muddy ground, its owner partially hidden behind a hedge.
"Squirtle. Get Moron and Joanne over here, pronto!" I told him as I dashed over to the unknown Pokémon, hoping that my senses had lied to me. But my hoping was in vain. As I got a closer look, I knew that I was too late. Vivid red fur was mottled with blood, that was still leaking out of several large gashes that ran along the Pokémon's side.
"This didn't happen that long ago," I said to myself, placing my hand upon the deceased Pokémon's head as a sign of respect.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, tears mingling with the rain drops as they ran down my cheeks, "if I had been half an hour faster, then maybe I could have stopped this."
"Oh my god!" Came Moron's cry as he ran up, "who would do anything like this? You poor Flareon."
He bent down and picked up the dead Flareon in his arms, openly weeping. Joanne was is a similar condition. Cold blooded murder had taken a Pokémon's life and we were too late to save the day.
I was jolted out of my reverance by the sound of mewing, barely audible above the rain. I turned in the direction of the sound and found myself looking strait into a patch of unusually long grass. Slowly, I stepped fowards and parted the strands of plantation.
I found myself looking into two small pairs of eyes, the Flareon had very young offspring.
"It's okay, we are friends," I muttered reasurringly, holding out my paw in the universal sign of good intentions.
One of the baby Pokémon stepped foward and sniffed my claws, the other slowly followed behind. I smiled at them, being carefull not too show too many teeth and scare them off.
"Flame? What are you doing?" Joanne asked, loudly. The two little ones dived into the grass at the noise, leaving me on my own again.
"Oh no you don't," I grumbled, diving in after them. It was easy to find them, I just followed the mewing.
I climbed back out of the nest, carrying both of the kits. Moron and Joanne had already gone towards the city with the dead mother, so they didn't notice my new cargo. Squirtle spotted them and took one off of my hands for me.
"Well, at least we saved these two."
"I hope so," I replied, focusing on keeping hold of the squirming ball of fur.
We plodded after the two Humans, who were deep in conversation as they navigated towards the familiar red roof of a Pokémon center. Moron looked back at me to make sure that we were following, and nearly dropped the Flareon when he saw the babies.
"Baby Eevee," he muttered watching the, now calm, youngster in my arms. Joanne turned back to look, puzzlement on her face untill she spotted the kits too.
"Aww, poor little mites," she muttered, taking the one off Squirtle. She bent down to take mine and I bared my teeth, I'd just got the little bugger calm and was not going to let anyone disturb it again.
"Fine, you keep hold of it. You're going to have to let it go when we reach the Pokémon center," Joanne scoffed as she picked up the pace a little.
Squirtle looked over at me, confused at my sudden hostilities.
"If I ever find the bastard that killed these Eevee's mother," I muttered, looking down at the sleeping warm body I carried.
"When we find that bastard," Squirtle added.
"Sorry, I almost forgot that you'd want a turn."
"Whatever, Dad."