So! A huge shout-out and thank you to everyone who has been SUPER PATIENT and UNDERSTANDING with Grunt's lack of a proper name and the build up towards her eventually getting one.

I almost abandoned this story out of sheer spite because of all the comments I received on this and other sites about how "they would change their name if they were her" and "why doesn't she just change her name already" when Grunt has massive trauma and depression, and is still trying to figure out who "she" even is. It just- It really made me lose motivation for a hot minute. She didn't even start to care for her own wellbeing until meeting Brock, so it wasn't until Blue got badly wounded that she came to the decision that she wanted to get rid of all ties- including the derogatory title Team Rocket gave her, which is the ONLY identity she's ever known. So, again. THANK YOU.

You guys are absolutely spectacular human beings and your kind comments gave me the will to keep this fic going. (Sending all the love your way)

"Here and now, if this is it- can't get out from under it…

Nevermore to leave here, nevermore to leave here; my love is…

The killing kind."

This was… annoying.

Blue, on the other hand, appeared to be having the time of his life. He kept his head turned pointedly away, though his eyes watched with great amusement as his shoulders shook. A hand clasped over his mouth, attempting to muffle said laughter as it would only cause him pain, the boy sat there and just observed.

After all, it wasn't every day his giant four-armed Pokémon decided to stand against a small child. It especially wasn't common for said Pokémon to lift said child up into one of its arms, carefully holding Umbreon with its other three, and then plop down on the couch to hold the small child in place. Umbreon was also now curled on said child's lap, preventing any kind of escape.

To Blue, it looked like Machamp had taken on the role of parent. To me, it felt like another frustrating obstacle in my way preventing me from getting answers or doing anything useful. Ansem curled around my shoulder, staring in question at Machamp and then at Umbreon. I made a face.

"C...Can you let me go?"

"Champ!" Okay, rude. Is this because of what happened in the base? I don't get it. "Machamp!"

"Blue…"

The boy snickered and then cringed, wheezing a little as he did so- pain flashing onto his expression briefly as he leaned back against the couch. He waved a hand at me dismissively. "N-Not my problem, squirt! Just accept the concern."

But I don't want his concern. I want to talk to Brock!

Blue stared at me for a long moment, grinning widely at the irritability shown on my face. I flinched when Machamp planted one of his hands on my head, gently patting my hair, and I scowled. Bill walked in the room and chuckled when he saw us, before collecting up some documents and heading to the kitchen to speak with Brock- pulling something out of his pocket and handing it to him.

I leaned to the side to try and get a better glimpse, curiosity taking over, and squinted. It looked like several tiny sheets of paper.

"-thanks!" I heard the dark-skinned boy say, a large smile on his face. He seemed happy about it. "I'll make sure to use them. I'm really sorry about all this, by the way."

"No problem! Just glad ta be of help." A pause, then Bill let out a very pleased sigh. "Man, yer cookin' always smells so heavenly… Makes me a little sad ya'll will be leavin' soon, but nothin' I can do about that. Your friends need help. Just know you can come back here anytime you need a safehouse or somethin', okay?"

"You're too kind. But thank you."

Brock was the kind one. But I guess… Bill was alright- at least compared to other adults.

I huffed and slumped against Machamp, raising my hands up and petting the Umbreon and Eevee in my lap. Their weight was almost crushing, but they were warm and I found I liked that warmth. It felt weird being held by pōkemon, or at least by someone who wasn't the brunet I've been travelling with, but it wasn't stressful.

I knew Machamp wouldn't hurt me.

I just… didn't like being still. I wanted to move. I wanted to find out more about what happened and if my friend was okay.

Blue finally managed to calm down, leaning against the couch and turning to face us. He was still grinning. "You know, you've really changed."

What? I looked at him in confusion, eyebrows furrowing.

"Don't worry, it's a good thing. Just felt like pointing it out."

Oh. Okay…? I wasn't quite sure how to react to that. I blinked when Umbreon let out a small mew, reaching up and nuzzling my chin. My hand dropped from her head to the back of her neck, fingers gently running through her fur. She gave my chin an oddly affectionate lick.

"I said it before and I'll say it again," Blue said, narrowing his eyes, "you're a liar... annnd pōkemon loveyou."

That's it. I give up. There's no winning. I said nothing in response, merely looking away from him and petting the furry pōkemon in my lap.

This was such a ridiculous situation. Was Brock done cooking yet? I really want to talk to him. Basil and Belladonna waddled over to Blue, unable to join the group cuddle because of the room Umbreon took up, and the former pōkemon trainer raised a brow in amusement.

He gladly welcomed them over, petting them and gently scratching the side of Belladona's face. "Compared to you, they're pretty well behaved. I guess that's because Brock is helping you train them."

"Hey, now!" Brock suddenly said, entering the room with two bowls of soup in his hands. A light-hearted grin was on his face. "I'll have you know she's an excellent trainer! She beat me first try."

"I think that says more about you than her." Blue joked, and yelped when Basil headbutted his leg. "Whoa! Okay. Someone's a little protective."

Brock laughed. The boy's smile only grew when he saw the way I was bombarded with pōkemon, and he calmly walked over- handing a bowl over to me. Umbreon took that as her queue to leave my lap and hop onto the floor, brushing her trainer's legs.

"Here." Brock said, watching as I set the bowl down in my lap. "Eat this. We'll leave once you've both finished breakfast, seeing as everyone is in such a good mood."

"What about Nugget Bridge?" Blue inquired, frowning. He set the bowl on the armrest of the couch, blowing on it before picking up the spoon. "Team Rocket has tons of their goons there."

"Not anymore." Brock smirked, placing his hands on his hips with a proud air about him. "I took care of them. I had Basil and Belladonna knock em out and drag 'em to the police center. After that, I told them about the underground hideout- so they're pretty much emptying the place out. Team Rocket isn't going to be camping out in this city any longer."

Oh.

Taking note of my silence, both boys turned to look at me. Sensing both the negative and conflicted emotions within me, Ansem let out a small mew and Basil and Belladonna moved off of Blue's lap and closer to Machamp and me.

I lowered my head, eyebrows furrowed as I tried to decipher what it was I was feeling and how I was supposed to react. I was pleased, I guess, to hear that the underground base was being removed and the goons inside and out of it were arrested. I was also bothered by it.

Not because I cared about Team Rocket, but… because Brock took care of it all on his own. He didn't take me along. He could have gotten severely hurt, captured and beaten the same way Blue had been. I don't like that. I don't like him being in danger.

"Hey…" The older, brown-skinned teen in question spoke up softly, stepping forward and kneeling down on the floor to look up and catch my gaze. I blinked, seeing his face in front of mine. Brock was frowning. "Are you mad at me?"

What?

"I know… you like to do things on your own. I also know that you don't want to put me in harm's way. But…"

Brock reached forward, resting his hands on my arms gently- careful not to disturb any of my wounds or burns. He looked so sad, so heartbroken and concerned, and something inside me ached at seeing that. I wanted him to go back to how he was before- smiling the way he had been when he was cooking.

"I don't like you getting hurt either."

I…

"You need to start relying on me more. We're not helpless or weak. We're just as strong as you are. We can help you. There's no reason for you to go tackling so many problems alone, especially if it's just going to break you in the end. Grunt, I-"

Brock cringed, realizing his mistake the second he saw my flinch.

"I'm sorry. I just… want you to realize we're here. I went out on my own with Basil and Belladonna because I wanted you to know this. We're your friends, and we want to help you. But you have to let us."

"That's…"

I blinked a few times, feeling a familiar sting in my eyes, and suddenly Machamp's grip loosened. My pokémon huddled around us, worried. I tried to speak, to get the words out and defend myself, to protest against him doing something like this again, only to find that I couldn't.

He had made a good point.

Brock stood, hands brushing the tears off my face and moving my bangs away. Seeing him lean down, I braced myself for a hug- yet his hands stopped at my shoulders, and I found myself frozen as he rested his forehead against mine. It was a very unfamiliar sensation. "Just... let me help. Please. I can't stand this…"

Wait, what's wrong with him? His voice just cracked. His arms slid around me and a hand pressed against the back of my skull, my forehead bumping lightly onto his shoulder.

"You don't want me in danger, you don't want me to hurt. But you pushing me away like this is what's hurting me. We'll help you, we'll come up with a new name for you, so let me do this for you. Okay?"

I turned my head away, almost glaring at the floor as I bit down on my bottom lip. "...Fine. I don't like it, though."

I felt him chuckle before I could hear it. He pat my hair, running his fingers through the long strands. "You really are mad at me, huh?"

"I… don't know. Maybe."

I was definitely upset, but it wasn't like there was anything I could do to change things. Everything was already said and done, and he had come back safely with the pōkemon. That was what mattered right now. That's what I should be focusing on.

I lifted my head up, staring at him, trying to decipher what I was feeling. He had lied to me, though it wasn't for the reason I had been panicking for earlier. He wasn't that kind of person. He acted out of concern for me, as hard as it was for me to believe.

"...You're not-"

I hesitated.

"...You're not hurt, a-are you?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. I reached out and tugged on his jacket, pinching it between my thumb and forefinger as I repeated myself.

"You didn't get hurt… right?"

Brock stared at me for a long moment, before a soft and almost pained smile crossed his face, something bittersweet about his expression that I couldn't quite explain. He rested a hand over the one that had grabbed him, giving it a light squeeze. "I'm perfectly fine. No one was able to hurt me."

Okay. I lowered my head, thinking, before giving a small nod. I frowned, releasing his shirt and clinging to his hand instead. "Then… I'm not mad. Sad, but… not mad."

The conversation ended there. It was awkward and quiet, but no one dared to say anything as I let go of Brock and fiddled with my shirt sleeves instead, the brunet heading over after a moment to pack all of our things in preparation for us to continue our journey.

Blue observed me during this, some kind of understanding flashing in his eyes as I tried to figure if I should help pack or eat my soup. Though it was, annoyingly, common for me to have a bit of breakdown or cause a scene, I still wasn't quite sure how to handle the aftermath of it.

"You just… don't know how to deal with people, do you?" The wounded boy asked, and I paused- looking at him in confusion.

Brock, though he didn't show it, was listening intently in case he needed to stop Blue from saying anything out of line, and Bill acted like he wasn't here. He was hiding out in the kitchen, as if afraid to walk into the living room due to the heavy atmosphere. I watched as a small grin formed on Blue's face, but… it seemed rather strained to me. Like it was fake.

"You really weren't a robot to begin with."

I blinked. "I… wasn't?"

It still feels like that's all I am, sometimes. Between my pokémon and Brock, I had to remind myself to show emotion. To willingly feel and let it out. It's hard, mostly because my emotions can be too much to handle, but the more I hide them away the harder it's going to be for me to control them when I do let them show.

That's… my current conclusion, anyway. I could be wrong about that.

Ansem mewed, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I watched as he neared the bowl- sniffing it. My lips twitched upwards and I scooped up some of the soup, holding the spoon out to him. Ansem cheered as he leaned forward, happily lapping it up, and I raised the bowl to my lips.

Oh.

I froze. That's… weird. What is that? I lowered the bowl, eyebrows furrowed, and all the pokémon turned to look at me. Ansem even stopped eating, ears twitching as his red eyes went wide. Blue noticed this, and turned his head to face me. "Hey. You okay, squirt? Something wrong with the food?"

"It…" Brock tensed, head snapping up and looking in our direction. "It's… weird."

"What?" Blue was confused. "It tastes fine."

That's the thing. That's what's wrong.

"But it's not… bland."

It's always been bland. Ever since I was little.

I raised the bowl to my lips again, making a face as I tried to identify the flavor, ignoring the way a certain brunet had stood and started gazing at me with such intense eyes. I chewed slowly, something Blue then made fun of me for as it was soup, and after a few moments I swallowed.

"It's… weird. I mean, it's better than before, but it…"

"Has flavor?" Brock suddenly spoke. We all looked at him with big eyes, and the boy stepped over. "You can… You can taste it?"

Bill peered his head out of the kitchen, confused and surprised. "I thought ya'll said she couldn't taste anything?"

"Nido?"

"Umbre?"

"Weepin?"

"Bulba!"

The pokémon were all gathering together, as if they were excited, sensing all the different emotions in the room and realizing just how new and amazing this was. Ansem jumped up, pressing his paws to my chest, nuzzling my chin. "Evaaa!"

"Mach!" Machamp hugged me tighter.

I was still processing this. Brock had raised a hand to his face, seeming to be just as stunned as I was, and he let out a small strangled sound. Brows furrowing together, the tears welled up, and then he let out a victorious shout, pumping a fist in the air. "You can taste! You can taste the food! Oh, by Arceus this is amazing! Blue, do you realize how amazing this is!?"

He rushed over, leaning against the armrest, grinning ear-to-ear, nearly hovering over me.

"How is it!? Do you like it? Hate it?"

I blinked, startled and a little overwhelmed. "I-I don't- I mean, it's… not bland?"

Brock nodded fervently. "Right!? And it's delicious, isn't it!? I'll make you even more delicious things, so you keep on tasting them!"

He leaned back, absolutely giddy as he rushed over the backpacks, finishing getting everything ready.

"We should celebrate later! Maybe I can make some sweet desserts? Oh, but I'll need to stop by the store once we're in town if I'm gonna do that… hmm."

Blue made a face, almost disturbed by our companion's behavior. "He's really happy for you."

Looks like it.

My lips twitched and I shook my head, something warm forming inside my chest. A small puff of air escaped me as my shoulders shook, and I gripped the bowl tight. I really was lucky to have met these people… even if at times I want to regret it, or hate myself for getting them involved in something dangerous; there's no doubt that I cared about them. They were everything to me. Just like my pokémon, and just like the children I wanted to save.

"...Thank you."

The rest of the day was spent getting ready after we finished our meals. Brock braided my hair for me, put medicine on my burns, and made sure I took the medicine the doctor prescribed. I swallowed the pills begrudgingly, and slid my backpack over my shoulders.

Basil and Belladonna hopped around my feet, circling me, while Ansem barked and jumped into my arms. Bill leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, watching Brock and I get ready, something almost… sad about his expression.

"I guess I won't be seein' you three for quite some time." He commented with a small sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. He gave a soft smile. "Just know you can come back here whenever ya need to rest when you're in town. My house'll be open."

"Of course!" Brock smiled, opening the door and patiently waiting for Machamp to carry Blue outside. "I'll also be sure to use the tickets you gave me! It'll come in handy trying to get to Vermillion City's gym."

"I sure hope it does." Bill gave a lopsided grin. "Take care of those friends of yer's, alright? They seem a bit stubborn."

He laughed. "They really are! Anyway, we gotta go. Thanks for everything!"

I blinked, watching the conversation take place with curious eyes. Aside from Nurse Joy, Yuna, and Professor Oak, I've never seen an adult act so friendly toward a kid. I'm used to grown ups constantly lashing out and yelling, using violence to solve all their problems. So this was… interesting, despite leaving me a little anxious. It just reminded me once again that the outside world is so different compared to the base.

Or, maybe… was it Team Rocket that was the oddity?

A hand reached out and snatched my own, startling me and causing me to look up. Brock smiled warmly at me. "Let's go, shall we?"

"Uh, r-right…" Following him outside, I cast one last glance at Bill- who was waving at us, the grin never falling from his lips even as the door shut behind me. "That was…"

No.

"He... was nice." Brock gave my hand a small squeeze, and I held Ansem securely with my numb arm. He really was getting quite heavy. So much muscle beneath all that glossy and soft fur. I guess that just meant he was healthy. "To us, I mean."

"He was. And we wouldn't have met him if you didn't suggest us going to the house." He flashed an encouraging grin. "You did great."

"I… did?"

I-I suppose… that it was a fairly smart decision. It just felt too dangerous to backtrack with how bad Blue's health was. It was the safest option at the time. I looked down, suddenly feeling awkward again. My face felt warm, and I tried to ignore the weirdness of being complimented.

It didn't really feel like I deserved it. "Th-Thank… you, I think."

He squeezed my hand again.

"Anyway," Brock looked up ahead, guiding us through a weird hedge maze, "we still need to come up with a name for you. I've thought of a few already, but I'm not sure if you'd like them or not."

Oh. That's right.

I guess that is something we need to do.

Logically speaking, it would be one step closer to me being an actual person, and one step farther from the abomination Team Rocket created, right? Yet, even if I had one, would it even matter? I didn't really have an identity anyway. It might just be a waste of time thinking about it. No memory, no family, not even a true childhood. I just existed, and I was barely even worthy of that.

Still…

I bit my bottom lip, looking at the ground and watching my pōkemon as they walked close to my feet. Ansem let out a small mew from his spot against my chest, tilting his head, big red eyes meeting my own brown ones. All I really knew about myself was that I didn't want to be associated with that criminal organization anymore. I didn't want to be a grunt.

I wanted… to be someone.

Someone who could be important enough to be considered family. Who could be worthy and deserving of love. Someone who could face the special person from her past without fear, and be able to return the stone him as promised.

Making sure not to drop Ansem or let go of Brock, I looked at the palm of my numb hand. The bandage around the wrist, and the overall crookedness of the limb... I had fallen- not just then, but so many times over the course of my life. Time and again I had been insulted, yelled at, hit, and bullied. I've been made into a puppet that could only follow orders, unable to act upon her restrained hatred until it was too late.

I was broken. I don't even think I can ever be properly fixed. I doubted that I could ever be anything more than "Grunt".

But… I wanted to try.

The pieces of my being that were shattered; I wanted to try to pick them back up. To put them back into their proper place- if they even had one. With Brock, Ansem, Basil and Belladonna, and even Blue by my side, I think I can make a little progress.

Trusting others was still hard, and I constantly second guessed people's intentions, but this might be the way to fight back against those who hurt me.

I curled my fingers into a fist, eyebrows furrowing at the lack of feeling into my hand. Looking up at Brock, I gave a small nod. A determination started to burn inside me, a need to be more than what I was. The desire to be human. A name would signify the beginning of that journey. A starting line, of sorts, to becoming a person. I had my thoughts, but I rarely understood my emotions. I'm not even sure if I have much of a personality.

Everything that I had ever been or could be had been lost on the day I was taken, all my worries and stress and sadness absorbed by a single chipped stone. I suppose it was that one memory I had that helped me be who I am right now- that allowed me to rebel against my abusers.

But who am I?

No matter how many times I ask myself that, I never find an answer. Perhaps it was because the only answer I have is the derogatory title I had lived with for nine years. It was the only proof of my existence, feeble and faint as it is. I wanted more.

I wanted to be more.

"I want…" I barely got two words out before my voice cracked, and I blinked- coming to an abrupt stop in my tracks. Machamp, Brock, and the rest of the pōkemon stopped walking then, them and Blue turning to look at me curiously. Ansem nuzzled my cheek before climbing onto my shoulder, fuzzy tail tickling my bandaged neck. Eyes burning with the familiar sensation of tears, I looked up at them, lowering my hand to the pocket where the dawn stone dwelled. "I want to tell him. When I find him, I mean."

I want to be able to introduce myself properly.

"I-I want…" I looked back down, the droplets hot against my cheeks, a lump stuck painfully in my throat. "I want to… to be able to tell him who I am. I want to say my name."

It was stupid. A foolish desire in the most pathetic of hearts. Yet it was honest, a wish purer than the tainted soul thinking it. After everything I had done, after all those people I hurt, there was no way I deserved any of this. Friendship, affection, praise. The freedom to long and desire, and the right to have a name.

I vaguely recall how that person had told me his name back then, yet the idiot that I am currently couldn't remember what it was. It was a fairly common name, I think, though that didn't really help at all in figuring out what it was.

If I could remember even slightly what he looked like, maybe I could figure it out. Unfortunately, the only clue I had- or reminder that he ever existed- was the lone dawn stone he gave me.

"Alright." Blue gave a small grin from his spot in his pōkemon's arms. "Let's start brainstorming then."

Wait, right now? This moment? I guess we did have a while to go before we reached the city, so it might help kill time. A strange sensation washed over me, filling my chest and leaving a bit overwhelmed. I leaned forward, standing on my toes, a weird bubbly feeling inside me. "O-Okay."

Brock hummed, crossing his arms and tilting his head. "Let's see… the names I came up

with are- and stop me if you hear one you like: Serenity, Faith, Patience, Leaf, May…"

My expression went blank. None of them sounded right to me, which was… weird. They were definitely pretty, but the names were distant. Worrying my bottom lip, I lowered my head. Maybe this was a mistake.

"How about Selena?" Blue suggested. "Matilda? Bree? Jasmine?"

No. No, they all sound wrong.

"Emmeryn? Irene?"

I shook my head, nose scrunching up ever so slightly. Blue looked amused at my expression, but he kept going. Brock threw in a few more, a hand to his chin in deep thought, and I lowered my head- holding Ansem closer to my face. The pōkemon licked my chin at the action, as if trying to comfort me, and the ones around my feet let out little noises of concern. They could sense my negative emotions, the way each name only left me feeling more empty and hollow inside.

"Persephone? Alice?"

If this… wasn't going to work, what then? Was I never meant to have a name in the first place?

"Dawn? Emerald? Ruby? Oh- what about Sapphire?"

I scrunched my nose, voice no more than a mumble. "I'm not being named after a stone."

Important to me as it was to me, that felt… wrong. Like it wasn't meant to be my name. Maybe I truly just wasn't meant to exist? I should have perished long ago. This was proof of it. The lack of a connection, the lack of a name, and the inability to find one. I wanted to be someone, to find him and tell him about all that I had become, but that was impossible.

Brock was even starting to look frustrated, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think up new names. "Lizzy…? Diana! No, um… hrmm…"

Blue sighed, head resting against Machamp's shoulder. "What others are there? May, Christy, Leslie… um… Zoey…"

"Keira, Melody, Melanie… Stephanie…" Brock looked up at the sky. "Nina? Regina…"

"Ellen?" Blue suggested.

The world came to a stop at that, my blood running cold as an electric shock flashed through my body. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight, lungs stuttering so hard it felt like someone had just slammed me into a wall. For a minute I straight-up forgot how to breathe, and seeing how I was no longer walking everyone came to a halt, pōkemon and humans alike turning to look back at me.

"Th-That's…" My voice came out a strangled whisper.

Something was digging, clawing at my brain. It was suffocating. My skull was throbbing. It was tearing at me, reaching into the very depths of mind and scratching away to reveal was lied beneath- the memories that were long since lost. It was nauseating, leaving me both dizzy and warm as the earth started spinning around me.

Brock let out a shout, barely catching me when the strength left my legs. "H-Hey!"

Gods, it… it hurts…

What was the name again? Ellen? No. No, that wasn't it; it was close, but not right. Visions of cold and darkness and fear came to mind, gripping at my heart and leaving me with a very powerful sense of dread, so strong I was on the verge of another panic attack. Screams echoed within my skull, and a hand outstretched called out to me.

Just who was I?

"Ellen…" It's right there, on the tip of my tongue. "Ellen…? El…"

Acid bubbled up the back of my throat, my heart thundering in my ears. My breathing was heavy, shallow even, and my eyes couldn't focus. The world around me was blurring- fading. It was so cold, yet I was burning. The urge to throw up was rising. But… I was almost there. I can make it. I can figure it out. I have to.

No, I need to remember.

"Ele...na? El…"

Please. A bit farther. Deeper into the abyss. I have to reach the bottom, I have to dive into the darkest depths of black that haunted my soul. But still- it was so far away. Too far away.

It… scared me.

Yet before it could worsen, the hand on my shoulder tightened. Brock. He was frowning deeply in concern, and without me able to voice so much of a protest he hoisted me up into his arms, holding me to his chest. My head dropped tiredly against him.

Slowly but surely, the screaming that had started to split my skull from the inside out stopped. All I could hear was my friend's heartbeat and his worried voice. "Hey. If it's too much, let's take a break. Your fever is gonna worsen at this rate, and it only broke a while ago."

I'm… seriously pathetic.

I choked a little, worrying my bottom lip, and I squeezed my eyes shut- too ashamed to look at him and the others. I didn't want to see their expressions. I could feel the beads of sweat as they dripped down the sides of my face.

"Let's focus on getting to the hospital." Brock suggested. "Then, after Blue gets properly treated and you take some medicine, and you both get a little more rest, we'll try again. Sound like a plan?"

A weak and tired nod. I heard Ansem let out a small mew, Basil and Belladonna crying out in worry.

Groggily opening my eyes, I saw Brock flash an encouraging smile. "Just leave this to me! I'll carry you the rest of the way, okay? It's not that far. I'll take care of everything."

I'm sorry.

I'm really….

…

Steven hummed as he sat at a table in Pewter City's pōkecenter. He flipped through the most recent newspaper, Lorelei across from him eating her dinner. They decided to stop for the night- per her request- to recuperate as they had a long journey ahead of them. Vermillion City was quite a bit away, though not as far as Hoehn. Wait-

The man paused, making sure he read the line correctly. A Team Rocket base had been captured in Cerulean City? He furrowed his brows, intrigued by the information that it was a boy who had informed the police.

There was a picture of him standing next to an Officer Jenny, a Bulbasaur and Weepinbell in his arms. He was smiling awkwardly, and there was a mention of how he wound up in the base previously with a travel companion when looking for a friend. As it turned out, the friend had fallen captive to Team Rocket and they ended up rescuing him. The boy- the former gym leader of the very town Steven and Lorelei were now in- borrowed his travel companion's pōkemon to knock all the grunts out and drag them to the police center.

"-I'm afraid I can't say." Steven's eyes quickly flickered upwards, seeing that the boy himself was on the television that was hanging from the wall. It was footage from two days ago. "I'd rather not reveal their identities. I'm fine with me being known since… everyone knows me anyway as the former rock-type gym leader. But my friend is really sensitive, so I'd like for the identity to just remain anonymous. Thanks."

"And what of the pōkemon?" The reporter asked. Brock leaned back slightly, grinning a little nervously. The man with the microphone held it out towards the two grass-types he was carrying. "Just who are these two handsome little guys?"

"Well, the Weepinbell is actually a lady." Brock casually corrected, and the pōkemon bashfully covered her face as best as she could with her leaf arms. "Her name is Belladonna. And this big guy is Basil!"

"Ooh~ I see their trainer put a lot of care into their names! He must be quite the respectable trainer."

Brock frowned at that, before a large- almost beaming- grin crossed his face, the boy seeming proud. "She is. The strongest and kindest one I know. She's a bit socially awkward, and can come off a little robotic or cold, but everything she does is to help the people around her. And… I want to help her shoulder than burden, just a little bit, even if she's reluctant to let me."

"Wow! Those are some powerful words coming from a previous gym leader!"

"What else can I say?" Brock joked. "She's my hero. It's because of her I can follow my dream now, after all."

Brock. The previous Pewter City rock-type gym leader. He had a great taste in pōkemon, if Steven could say so himself, and yet… there was something about his words. Something nagging at the back of his mind. There had been rumors of the Team Rocket headquarters exploding because of a child having escaped with a powerful pōkemon, but they were merely that.

And yet, somehow, after falling victim to one of Team Rocket's underground bases, two children- no older than fifteen, his companion maybe even being younger- not only escaped, but also rescued a fellow friend and dozens of abused pōkemon. And after getting away, one of them returned later and defeated all of the Team Rocket grunts that were there, and even managed to have them all apprehended by the police?

Something wasn't adding up.

There was no way a group of kids could just… be thrown blindly into a dangerous organization and perform both a rescue attempt and an escape. The return trip to arrest them all was even more baffling.

Unless… one of the three knew the layout of the base, or were familiar with Team Rocket's buildings. His friend- the one the grass-type pōkemon belonged to- who was she?

She would have to be about Brock's age.

The same age that person would be should she have survived to this day. Steven's heart seemed to lurch at the thought and he sat up a bit straighter, staring intently at the screen. The entire time Lorelei was observing him, eyes intense and scrutinizing. He paid her no mind, thoughts reeling a thousand miles per hour. It was simply a coincidence, wasn't it?

So why… did the dawn stone seem to weigh so heavily in his pocket? Why did he feel so hopeful? Steven should know better. He was a grown ass man. His mother died when he was little, killed, and if he was being honest he might have even been projecting a little. He was still grieving her death when he found that girl on the street so many years ago.

Losing someone so soon after such a tragedy, and knowing it was because she was also attacked… it ate away at him. Steven shuts down complicated emotions, distracts himself, yet he could never with this. The sheer hope that she might be alive was too painful and too strong. Suffocating, even. That sweet little Unovan girl who had no memories of a name, family, or where she came from.

Why was moving on so hard? So difficult?

Why can't Steven ever allow himself to get truly close with anyone? It took years for him to allow Wallace in, and he's still a bit guarded with Winona. Hell, Steven still keeps things from his father. Maybe he's childish, maybe he just hasn't grown up as much as he thought he has.

But still… even if that child isn't the one who he wants her to be… maybe she'll know something. If the one he made a promise to was still alive, and if not… what happened to her. Perhaps that was what most of this was; a way to get closure. He's lacked it for nine years, and the days are only growing longer.

When the channel on the television changed, Steven absentmindedly reached into his pocket and pulled out the dawn stone he kept to remind himself of her. It was simply one of many that he owned, being an avid rock collector and cave spelunker, and yet it seemed to carry a tremendous weight alongside its avid beauty.

"What's the matter?" Lorelei asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. Steven paused, collecting himself and meeting her gaze calmly. "That stone- it's just an ordinary evolution stone, isn't it? Why the sad eyes?"

"That is…" Steven hesitated. He sighed. "I was remembering a promise."

"Oh? Is that so." She watched him for a moment more, tilting her head. "Would it be too insensitive if I asked who?"

"...Just an old friend."

"Does it…" Lorelei paused. "Does it involve the Team Rocket case?"

Steven curled his finger over the stone, trying to remember. Her hair had been long and dark, and her eyes… just what shade of brown were they, again? If she was alive, does she even remember him? What about the stone he gave her? Would she still have it? Probably not, it was a cracked ol' thing, but… it would be nice. "It… yes."

He decided to be honest. He was going to have to tell someone other than Wallace and Winona eventually. Opening his palm, he gazed at the stone once more.

"There was a child I met- a long time ago. Back when I had started pōkemon training. She was lost, alone. A Unovan girl, with no memories of who she was or where she came from, or how she came to be in Hoenn. I gave her the first dawn stone I had ever excavated, and we promised… that we would meet again. That I would visit her at the orphanage she would be taken to. But… the day after…"

"She was… taken by Team Rocket?" Lorelei guessed.

Steven nodded, expression grim and stern. "Correct."

She frowned. "You don't think she's still alive, do you?"

He couldn't bring himself to answer that. Not saying anything, Steven took a deep breath and pocketed the stone, folding up the newspaper and standing. "I'll head to the room. We should depart for Cerulean City in the morning. That boy on the news might know something- assuming he's still there."

"Ah, you mean Brock." Lorelei nodded. "Alright."

…

I was only in a hospital once before, and I'm still sick of it. Being strapped to IVs were probably the most disturbing and anxiety-inducing thing ever, the medicine leaving me groggy and sluggish. It made it hard to stay aware, to pay attention, and I ended up kicking the blankets off more than once to try and vent my frustration.

But then there was Brock- who wasted no time in tossing the blanket back on me. "You'll catch a cold." He would always say. Grah! Blue doesn't have half as many IVs as I do, and he's the one who's badly wounded. This is so unfair.

I've gained some more weight from the last time I was here, but… apparently the doctors thought it wasn't enough. I've barely grown a centimeter. They kept tossing more medicine at me and running tests. The only consolation was that Blue was just as irritable as I was, sitting on a bed a few feet away from mine, eating some soup while occasionally glaring at the heart monitor and wires that were strapped to him. Brock, meanwhile, was sitting in a chair between us, humming and knitting away with Basil by his feet. Ansem and Belladonna were by my lap.

"You're such a mother hen." Blue grimaced. "Broken ribs won't kill me."

"They can if left untreated." Brock retorted. He stopped knitting, setting the scarf (?) down. "You were lucky none of them had punctured your inner organs. If they had, you wouldn't have made it this far."

Blue scowled, scrunched his nose, and then stubbornly turned his head away.

"Just one more day." Brock informed. "Then we can go try the gym."

I fell onto my back, letting out a loud groan. The frustration has been building up so much the past few days, leaving me to feel uncharacteristically childish. Ansem mewed and climbed on my stomach, pawing at my chest. "I wanna go now! Can't you just stay here with Blue while I go to take on the gym leader?"

"No." He fixed me with a stern look. "You're not going to that gym unless I'm with you. Understand? What if you have another panic attack?"

What?

He crossed his arms over his chest, and I pushed myself up by my elbows to look at him, eyes wide. How did he know I had an attack? Wait- aw, it was Bill, wasn't it? Rude. So he knows how I fainted, but- hold on. He knows why I fainted, but how does he know what caused it? It wasn't like I was obvious. I was under the assumption that he thought it was because of a stress-induced fever. "I-I don't…"

"Hey." His voice softened. He pressed a hand against the mattress, expression gentle. "It's okay. You're allowed to be scared of things."

I'm not. I'm really not, though. It's dangerous. Fears are used against you.

"I didn't realize it until after listening to what happened, but… you're terrified of water, aren't you?" He frowned, watching the way my color drained from my face. My breathing had hitched and I found the panic start to rise again, but before I could say anything and before my thoughts could spiral, he reached out and grabbed my trembling hand. "It's okay. As a rock-type user, I'd rather avoid water myself. You could say we have that in common."

But… you're not scared. You've never had long sharp nails tangled in your hair, pushing your face into a sink full of water and ice cubes. You've never been forced to go against a fully evolved pōkemon and slammed into a wall by a Hydro Pump as your nostrils and throat become filled with the liquid, leaving you to choke as your lungs are left to drown.

You've never… had nightmares of an unstoppable flood washing everything away, tearing apart buildings and people, with screams filling your ears. They're not even your screams, because you can't scream. You're too busy spinning in the darkness, pulling off whatever slammed into you, cutting you, drowning you. Flailing desperately to try and reach the surface- whichever direction it happened to be in.

You weren't…

You weren't alone. You've never been so empty inside that you forgot how to feel. How to be. I'm so far behind everyone else, despite everything I did to get ahead in order to better plan my escape. Taking a shaky breath, I shook my head slowly- staring at the pokémon on my lap with half lidded eyes.

I've been scared of drowning from the moment I first woke in Rustboro. Mistress Augusta took advantage of that fear and worsened it. I could barely even face Richard and Velga at Mount Moon, and I barely even made it out of their Cerulean City base with Blue intact.

Just how… am I going to get through the water-type gym without completely losing what little sense of self I gained?

My head started to throb again. The more I thought, the more painful it became. It almost felt like I was there again- in the cold, in the darkness. Falling deeper into the abyss of a past I couldn't remember, and a fear that was all too real.

There was something there, too. Clawing at the back of my mind, trying to force its way through. Sitting on the tip of my tongue yet unable to be spoken.

A voice…

Yet who was that voice? My fingers twitched and grasped tight the hand that was holding mine, expression blank as I struggled with the war raging inside my head. I needed to know. There was too much I didn't know, after all.

I furrowed my brows, trying to remember- digging deep into the forbidden corners of my mind. My headache throbbed and worsened as a result, and I was vaguely aware of Brock saying something when my head fell to the side and landed on his shoulder, a sickly pallor washing over my skin again. I felt nauseous.

But… it was there. I could almost reach it.

The arms that grabbed onto me in the rampaging flood, and the hazel green eyes that bore into mine so desperately. A scream. Just who was that? And the person I saw in my reflection; was that… supposed to be me? It made no sense at all, and yet… it's so familiar all the same. Like in that place I felt… whole, while here it felt like there was a huge part of me missing. I've always had trouble recognizing this body as mine, often dissociating from it due to the abuse and from my amnesia, but…

Oh, I don't know. This is making my head hurt even worse.

With a groan I fell back against the bed, exhausted and somehow even more anxious than what I already was. Just what should I do? We need Blue to finish healing, but in waiting so long Team Rocket is gaining the advantage and putting more children and pokémon through pain. I have to collect the badges as quickly as possible. And my lack of a name is- ugh.

It's so frustrating. Sitting here is frustrating. Everything is just frustrating! I hated not being able to move. But it feels like I'm getting closer to something- something small and simultaneously very important. It's vague and it's faint, but I can recall what the strangely familiar woman said. Unfortunately, I lacked any other details about it and was left with the sensation deep in my chest that it was incomplete.

"H-Hey." I grimaced, turning my head to the side to look up at Brock and Blue, head pounding and vision burning a little. Ansem was currently curling himself up onto my stomach, chin on his paws as his big dark red eyes stared at me intently. "What… are some names that start with "El"?"

Hopefully this met expectations a little. As I mentioned, it's... been a while since I wrote for this so I had to reread previous chapters and try to re-familiarize myself with certain character dynamics.

We gettin' some Steven up in here! Ah, man. I can't wait until they reach Sarge's city. Mwehehe~

A huge thank you again to all of you beautiful human beings. If not for you, this story wouldn't have been getting a Chapter 16. So. Keep being awesome! Have a wonderful day/night wherever you are, and stay safe! 3