CHAPTER 6: IMPRISONED

"Where are you going, Briar? Where can you possibly run to?"

The icy wind lashed at her face with the talons of arctic demons, cutting through her saturated, heavy clothes, beginning to freeze the marrow of her bones. Breathing out misty warmth with each grasping breath, the human girl pressed onwards through the forest, having to un-snare herself from the wickedly grasping branches of the lowest boughs of the tree and the shredded bushes. Her blood ran in trickles from the cuts she'd sustained across her exposed flesh—she trembled at the deep chill pervading her being, trembling like a seizure patient. Still, the breeder forced herself forward, the mountain crest looming closer with each stumbling advance.

The words repeated themselves, carrying the voice of the one she sought to flee for reasons that escaped her tormented mind. Deep, smooth, melodic…and always so cool. As she remembered his words about the unborn children of her abandoned charges, she bit her lip to hold back a shriek of fury and pain. How could he hold such contempt for life? And if he thought such about clearly welcomingly conceived offspring, what would that make her in his eyes? Shaking her head to deny the horrible, repulsive ideas to form, Briar addressed the questions echoing her mind. Where was she going? Away. Far from him and his appalling views. Going to another part of the island had not been enough, just as retreating to one room in your parents' house is no sanctuary from your hurt or rage. Curse as you might, what you truly long for is distance—escape from the one who abuses your heart in ways too mild to press charges over, but leaving scars all the same.

Just as she had done before, Briar was running away from her so-called haven…the place where no matter her usefulness, she could never belong. How could she ever find a home, being the—the thing she was? Unwanted by humans, undesired by pokémon. Outcast. Strange one. Creature of the dusk. Human she was, but none of her own race had wished for her—and no matter how hard she tried, she would never belong with other beings in this world.

Her self-hatred and pity consuming her, Briar ran, unable to go back and face the possible repulsion in the others' expression when they looked upon her. Emotion overrode logic, instinct overpowering reason. Random thoughts and memories flitted within her mind, and she refused to give them more than a second's consideration. She didn't know what she was truly doing—it was not her intention to break her promise to her charges, yet in her acts she was doing precisely that is she managed to get out of the basin. She remembered vaguely that there was a bus service at the base of Mt. Quena…and a cabin and a woman who helped travelers. How she longed for a kind word, a touch of skin and smiling face…a warm bed and drink. Human food. The idea was intoxicating, so Briar, not even using her true name in her thoughts, decided to head there once she'd climbed the mountains—an impossible goal, but a destination to pursue. And after that…after that….

She didn't know. She never knew. Who was she anymore—anyhow? Briar? Rose? Alive? Dead? She'd never lived like others her age—she'd never been like them. Was her life a waste? In their hands, perhaps. In Mewtwo's…?

Purpose. Fragile. Yet nothing to live or die for. Merely another phase of transient existence in the series of movements in the elegy of her grey life—the life that should not be. The life that only came into the world through an act of great evil and sin—devil's daughter, condemned by God since birth to know nothing of light. Always in shadow—forever left out along in the silent, compassionate-less snow.

She reached the base of the stone rise after what might have been hours of struggling. Bloodied, teary, with delusional hypothermia setting in to distract her from her tortured state, Briar gazed up at the slick rise…and in a further expression of her heart's insanity, she began to climb, soon enough have struggled to a height where falling would equal death. But you lost fear and anxiety where you didn't really care if you lived or died—so other than the snarling, burning, black ball of chaos within her soul, the girl's mind was calm, running on primal memory of the movements of hands and feet. Brachial descendant. Evolved primate. A beast no longer, but a domestic creature of humanity's womb. Tarred, gutted, with no hope of self-sufficiency. She had no fangs, no claws, no poison besides the futile words she could sometimes spit. What a weak, pathetic thing she was…!

Will, gone. Pain is its master—she felt no physical agony. Only bitter cold—no worries! Numbness was inevitable, a salve to feeling. How she longer for that—to have never felt anything at all. To never have existed….

Lightning and thunder split the air around her, her screams joining their roar, and she shook with sudden fright as she came back to herself. What—what was she doing? For god's sakes, this was suicidal, this ascent. She'd be killed. And she liked feeling wet and frozen, liked hearing the wind in her ears, liked the scent of earth and ice, liked looking over the last garden of Eden and tasting its fruit. She feared its end on some forgotten, animal level. No matter how she longed for death, she also dreaded not being in this world. Because if anything else didn't touch her, the world reduced her to tears of joy in its wonders….

Why had she forgotten that? Why was she up here in this storm?

Mewtwo's eyes flashed in her mind…her heart sinking….

"You did this…without meaning to, you…."

Whatever the thought that had been forming in her brain was never completed. With fresh fury the wind and rain of the typhoons battered the landscape, loosening the stone and soil of the mountain above her…and in a great slide of crushing, roaring earth, begin to tumble down the slope her way. Before the wave of stone pummeled her, she shut her eyes tightly, and wondered how painful dying would be. Her grave would be one of mud.

In the split second before impact, her leader found her. And without a thought, he acted.

The next thing Briar knew, she was wrapped in a pair of arms and a tail, her body clutched to another, the still air faintly humming and aglow. The avalanche of earth swirled around what seemed to be a protective bubble about her and the one who'd created it, whose eyes glowed of an icy blue light. From the feel of his fur, his telekinetic powers, the scent of him, the human knew who he was in an instant. Murmuring his name softly, she curled herself deeper into his arms…he did not resist. In fact, his hold tightened as he felt how cold she was—too cold. Far too cold, and soaked. She shivered as his warmth seeped into her and the earth slide passed them by, releasing them into the cleansing rain and wind. The dirt washed away…but not the fear. As lightning and its accompanist split the firmament, they both cringed…Mewtwo bringing them to a sturdy outcrop to huddle under and wait out the storm. He could return now…but she was too shaken. She didn't want to move, shaking against the safety of his shielding body…she thought of flying through the typhoon terrified her…and a lesson, even if cruel, had to be learned in this moment. To break her word meant that Briar would break her bonds to him, to the others…and without the one her shared with her, she would now be dead. He would hold her, keep her warm and safe…but only if she would let him. If she severed the connection, isolating herself…she would perish.

All that was a thought her guardian couldn't stand. So in the hours as the storm wore out, he taught her that silently, letting down his shield…and letting the elements batter his back as he shielded her from nature's fury. For her, he took the abuse of the night, murmuring to her not to be afraid…no harm would come to her while she was under his protection. Never….

Eventually, the exhaustion of her body and mind made her slump into his hold, her being falling into the sweet oblivion of black dreams. He raised his shield once more, shuddering with cold, his heat long since being passed into the female…and teleported them back to the island, where the others were waiting anxiously….

Unspoken and stealthily, something hard twisted and changed in them during the storm…but neither could face the meaning of those silent alterations within them just yet. But soon they would both understand…soon enough, they'd realize that the shadows they'd upon themselves had been unlocked….

All that remained now was merely to shake them off.

When Briar awoke, dripping with rainwater and laying upon a dry, stone floor, bundled only in blankets, she found herself in a small chamber of one of the tunnels. As she lifted her head, clutching the warm fabrics to her wet and naked skin, she saw that there was no escape from the space she lay within—the entrance was barred with long shafts of metal, the door locked shut. Mewtwo stood outside it, gazing upon her solemnly, tracing her features with his eyes—the choker was still about her neck, a symbol of what she was, owned and valued. For a time, they gazed at one another, before Mewtwo spoke.

"I believe you owe me an explanation, Briar."

She closed her eyes. "But don't you already know?"

"…I have my suspicions. Yet you must do the speaking of it, not I. You will not be released from this cell until this matter is solved. I care not how long such a thing takes."

For several minutes, Briar's mouth remained shut. She didn't want to talk about it…she didn't want to pry the shard of truth from her scars, preferring to let it continue to fester instead of cutting it out in agonizing pain. So Mewtwo prodded the piece of dirty shrapnel, making it burn, encouraging her to at last tear it from her so she might heal.

"…You are a child by rape, aren't you?"

She flinched visibility, but did not deny the claim.

It took her several moments to form words in her mouth, but when she did, her shivering stilled…her voice was steady and calm as she grasped the shard and began to tear it out….

"Yes. I am. My…my mother was only seventeen when she was assaulted by a man named Scott Pyrite. She was an openly declared lesbian, and in those years, homosexuals were still believed to choose their sexuality—others didn't see it as an integral part of who they were, a thing they couldn't help but feel. My father and his friends wanted to "change her mind" and "fix her." So they abducted her off the street when she was walking home from her girlfriend's house on Christmas night. Pyrite raped her repeatedly, goaded on by his gang. Then they left her on her front steps, naked and unconscious. It took her years to get over the trauma of it…it didn't help that she had a living reminder of what had been done to looking up at her each day, calling her "mama"."

Breathing shakily, she continued, "At any rate, she filled charges against her attackers…the evidence was overwhelming, so the lot of them were thrown in prison. Where hearing that my mother was pregnant, Pyrite gave her his lighter, telling her to give it to her kid as a present—he thought it was a boy, though when he found out the truth, he laughed—saying he hoped his girl would be a proper one, liking the opposite gender and all—though he went about saying that in a rather vulgar manner."

"And are you? What gender do you prefer?"

"…I…it's not as if…I've had much experience in the matter but…I am heterosexual. Though that was the "right" way to be, I always hated myself for it—since mother and Jena married, albeit unofficially, after the assault, I was raised by two homosexuals—I wasn't like them, and I despised that. I hated being like my father…I hated that whenever she looked at me, my mother seemed to wish to slap me. I have my father's eyes, you see…and every time my eyes met hers, it reminded her of the violation she went through, the terror and pain. I was a constant reminded of the rape…and though she let me live, though she said she loved me, I know she wished it were otherwise—that I'd never been."

"It always set me apart, my conception…and I was never, not once, allowed to forget the way things were. Worse, I hurt the people raising me with my presence, no matter how I tried to make them happy and be no bother to them. So I just…I left. I doubt they miss me now…."

Mewtwo contemplated that…and then sighed, opening his eyes fully to look upon her…his voice quiet as he spoke, "I see. Now, I suppose, it is my task to set you straight."

Her head snapped up, her eyes meeting his stony ones.

"I cannot say in absolute certainty what your parents feel for you—I doubt from what you're said that your father cared, but as for your mother and her partner…I believe you mean something not altogether negate to them. After all, they did not see you aborted or adopted…they raised you and gave you a home. They also searched for you desperately when you ran from them…so do not be so quick to say that you are nothing to them."

"Furthermore…you are wanted here, by the others and by myself, and not merely for what you are capable of doing that would be of benefit to us. You are…different, Briar. Unique. And in every act that you committed to prove yourself to be anything but your father's daughter. His blood may flow through you, but the evil of his soul has not touched yours. You are pure Briar…you do not need to hurt yourself to exorcize your sins—for you have more staining your soul. Your life has meaning—you must not doubt this."

"You matter, if not to your own kind, then to us. And also…."

He unlocked the door, letting it swing open. "I apologize for my thoughtless words earlier. I never meant to insinuate that those conceived through less than savory or natural means were lesser beings. Nor did I intend to harm you…that is the last thing I could desire."

He turned his back on her and murmured, "Now get some rest, Briar."

And that was all—he walked away, leaving the human to mull over his words….

In the dawn after the storm, the air the color of amber, Mewtwo stood out upon the outcrop of the island, gazing out at the golden water and the fiery horizon over the bronze mountains. He breathed the almost heavy air in, the crisp scent of ozone filling his nostrils and lungs. He sensed his companions approaching, knowing they had heard his conversations with Briar hours earlier. Meowthtwo spoke first as Pikatwo sputtered at the light rain splattered that hit his face from the clearing rainclouds, with a sly note in his tone.

"Harming her is "the last thing you could desire?" Why don't you just admit that you like her instead of leaving the poor woman tormented and confused? I'm certain it would put her at ease."

"…You are exaggerating, my friend. I doubt any feelings I may or may not have for Briar would be of great concern to her."

"You're wrong about that, Mewtwo. I notice that you don't downright deny that she intrigues you—that's progress, at least."

He glanced at them, then murmured, "…Why don't you say what you all are thinking instead of making obvious implications? I am no child, you two. If you wish to say something to me, say it—there is nothing you can matter that would offend me."

The statement was calm and quiet enough, but it carried a sharp undertone. They seemed to wince, then Pikatwo bit the bullet and said, "…Be with her. You both want one another, despite how you try to bury those desires. Go to her, tell her you are about her—stop stalling and waiting for her to give up on you. You could be…well, you could be happy with her next to you! We all see that, and—"

"And what have I to offer her? Have you thought of that? This thing I am…I may be male, but this body of mine…you act as though she would accept it! As though she would savor the touch of paws, of tail, or a face so different from hers. I probably would be incapable of mating with her…I could hurt her in the very attempt to obtain physical closeness! And even if I could join her…I could give her nothing through that act but a temporary high. This is all. It is futile."

"But…you don't have to be physical…you could—"

"What, Meowth? Do you think I can give her love? I cannot even make her smile, let alone feel any sort of joy wonderous enough to satisfy her without a lover's touch! Besides…she is human. Try as I might, to allow her into myself would require full trust…and I cannot give such a thing to one of her kind."

"…So you'll condemn both of you so swiftly to loneliness? Mewtwo, I've never thought of you as weak, but this—"

"She deserves better…despite what she may think, she's a creature of light—she should be with someone who can give her happiness tenfold. She deserves better! Damn you both…do you even realize why I named her Briar?"

Seeing her perplexed look, he sighed, rubbing his brow….

"…What is it you think of when you hear the word, 'rose'? You think first of the gorgeous red petals of the blooming plant, do you not, and then the thorns? Yet the petals are for show to attract others with their beauty and scent, so those drawn may do the bidding of the plant in pollinating it. That bloom can also be crushed completely with fair ease. Beautiful, manipulative, frail…Briar is none of those things. She is far more like the thorns, the briar, then the rose. For briars defend and sustain the plant without complaint, knowing they are despised even as they do what is best for it. Not only that…but there is a certain wild, untamed elegance to them that the petals will never possess. And no matter how hard one tries to grasp a briar, it lashes back, and is never crushed. That is who that human is—protective, loyal, self-sacrificial, caring, sleek…and free, if she chooses to see it. She has a type of honor I can never hope to obtain…not after all I have done in the past. You know as well as I what I once…tell me, what monster deserves to have a companion after that?"

"There are plenty of evil people in the world who have partners. And you were misguided, not evil."

"It does not matter…now please…leave me in peace."

He was clearly anything but soothed, and seeing they were not going, he left inside, returning to his quarters…and the two friends looked at each other, thinking that only divine intervention, god's interference itself, could change the doomed path on which Mewtwo and his potential mate were leaded.

Fortunately, a pink deity all-too-readily agreed with them, wanted nothing more than to oblige….