TRAINER ID
Name: Daniel Ingram
Badges: 3
Account: 34,115 credits
Location: Lavaridge Town

I awoke to the unpleasant smell of sterilization and a rhythmical beeping that matched the beating of my heart.

My head was pounding with what would have been a throbbing headache if not for the heavy dose of painkillers flowing through my body and dulling my senses.

I vaguely registered that my body ached, but at the same time I also felt good and light as a feather. Despite feeling like I'd slept for an eternity, I still felt utterly exhausted – both physically and mentally.

Something as simple as opening my eyes was a chore. My head felt foggy, and there was a very noticeable delay between my brain sending signals and my body actually carrying them out. But I managed to pull it off, and after giving my eyes a few moments to adjust to the light and my brain taking even longer to begin processing what I was seeing, I found myself lying in a hospital bed hooked up to machines.

I remember feeling relieved, annoyed, and anxious, even though at the time I couldn't explain why I felt that way. I was having difficulty thinking and remembering what might have happened to me, and the only thing I could think was that although I'd always hated hospitals, I somehow knew that waking up here was by far the most preferable outcome compared to what could have happened.

Not that I knew what those other bad outcomes might have been, other than feeling weirdly surprised that I wasn't dead.

I remember being thankful that everything hooked up to me appeared to only be for monitoring purposes – apart from an IV in my arm feeding me fluids, all I seemed to have attached to me was a few sensors taped to my temples and chest and a device clipped to my finger. I would have been extremely annoyed to have woken up with something like an oxygen mask or breathing tube.

Despite that, I could tell I wasn't in great shape. One feeble attempt at sitting up was all it took for me to realize that nearly my entire body was incredibly sore for some reason. It felt like I'd taken a swan dive off a cliff, and everything from my face to my toes ached even through their mild numbness.

After idly wondering if I would be better off with more painkillers or less, I realized that the only thing I knew for certain was that my mouth was insanely dry and, that I needed a drink of water.

As if reading my mind, a woman stepped into the room wearing attire that informed me she was a nurse. She said… something, but I couldn't understand it for the life of me. Between the throbbing in my head and my brain only working at a Slugma's pace, she sounded far too muffled, distant, and distorted for me to understand.

I tried to ask for water, but it came out as a croak. She quickly rushed out of the room like a woman on a mission, and I prayed to Arceus that she had somehow understood my request.

In the moments that followed, I tried to recall what had happened to me and why I had a lingering feeling of unease, but I was tired and focusing on anything was nearly impossible.

My thoughts wandered seemingly randomly, from wondering how many tiles were on the ceiling to why a miniature cactus was chosen to be the room's sole decorative plant. I also found myself reminded of when I'd been laying in a hospital bed eating ice cream with my mom sitting beside my bed, gently running her fingers through my hair after I'd had my tonsils removed – something that I hadn't thought about in a long time.

That memory led me to let loose an involuntarily laugh upon remembering how upset I'd been at being too loopy to ask the doctor to see what they'd taken out of my body, something I'd been extremely determined to do before being given anesthesia. That attempt at a laugh led to me immediately recoiling in pain and realizing just how badly my body truly hurt, causing the memory to be gone as quickly as it had come.

I also remembered about my first time laying in a Pokécenter bed, and how much better it was compared to any other bed I'd ever had. The bed I'd had when living with my mom, the bunk bed at the Petalburg orphanage, and especially the hospital bed I was currently in – they all paled in comparison to the beds in Pokécenter rooms, something I realized I'd begun taking for granted.

By some miracle, that random thought caused me to remember that I'd been at a Pokécenter before ending up hospitalized. I'd been there because I had to be, and then things had gone wrong. Somehow.

Still struggling to remember the details but doing my best not to let my mind wander again, pieces of the puzzle began to click into place and I began to connect what had been nagging at the back of my mind, making me feel anxious and uneasy.

A fight. Team Rocket. My team.

My family.

I groaned in pain as I did my best to sit up and call for the nurse, the heart rate monitor suddenly beeping a lot faster as I had the briefest moment of clarity to realize I had no idea if my team was alright. Perhaps it was messed up of me, or maybe it was intuition, but I was completely unconcerned with Trapinch despite not seeing any of my Pokéballs in sight. My thoughts went to the three I cared about most, but only one in particular truly terrified me.

Apollo. Though I was still unable to remember all the details, I recalled blood dripping from his limp body.

And light.

Right, he had evolved… I think? It almost felt surreal, and momentarily had me questioning if everything I thought I was remembering had actually happened, or if it was something I'd imagined while unconscious in the hospital.

Or, possibly even a hallucination that had happened before being hospitalized. Details were slowly coming back to me, and I could remember suffering a telepathic attack. I shivered as I remembered the feeling of Apollo's connection breaking, and wouldn't have been surprised to learn that I'd had my mind dominated almost immediately after that, resulting in me imagining things as my synapses went haywire.

Possible evolution aside, I was certain that Apollo had been badly injured. Duran had been hurt too, but he was incredibly resilient and I somehow knew he hadn't faced anything nearly as life-threatening as Apollo had, even though I still couldn't recall exactly what had happened.

And Orion… Well, I couldn't remember anything about him, but I was incredibly worried about him too.

The nurse chose then to return, quickly setting aside the styrofoam cup of water she'd brought in favor of tweaking the settings on the machine. As I began to spiral into a panic at the realization I had no idea if my team was even alive, she placed a hand on my shoulder and spoke to me, and this time I was faintly able to make out what she said to me, aided largely by the gesture she did with her free hand that rolled up and down in front of her chest.

Breathe.

I tried my best, remembering that I'd done this many times before during meditation, but it was really hard. Not only because my mind was now transfixed on if my family had died and left me once again alone in the world, but because my body and mind were getting increasingly numb and uncooperative.

I realized belatedly that she must have increased the amount of sedatives being pumped into my system when messing with the machine, because even though I had an unusually hard time regulating my breathing, I started to feel a lot calmer.

Seeing that I was no longer on the brink of experiencing what would have been my first ever panic attack, the nurse carefully picked up the styrofoam cup and helped me take a drink, only to pull it away after I barely got a sip much to my annoyance. Still, it was enough to wet my parched pallet, so I tried talking again and finally managed to be audible.

"My team," I managed to get out after considerable effort, my talking slow, slurred, and delayed.

Alive. Safe.

She said more than that – complete, complex sentences I couldn't follow, but I was able to latch onto those two words.

The important parts. All I cared about, and enough to put me at ease.

I relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief as I closed my eyes, and I remember being vaguely annoyed yet too tired to wipe the tears of joy streaming down my face before falling asleep once again.

The next time I woke up I was a lot more lucid and sore, probably due to being given a much lower dose of medication, so moving was more uncomfortable but not nearly as difficult.

The nurse was already in the room, her hand on my shoulder giving me a gentle shake as she repeated my name. There was also another much older woman who I took to be the doctor, given the way she was dressed, the stethoscope around her neck, and the clipboard in her hand she was currently perusing.

"Mr. Ingram?" the nurse said again, causing me to put in the effort required to turn my head toward her and give a slight nod.

"Good. How is your pain between one and ten, with ten being the worst pain you've ever felt in your life?"

The worst pain I've ever felt? That was pretty recent actually, although it wasn't exactly the bodily type of pain she was talking about…

I pushed that thought from my mind, remembering that my team was safe and hoping that if I could remain calm and awake I'd be able to get more answers.

"Three," I croaked in response. Truthfully, I had a headache somewhere in the range of a six or seven, but I was able to think reasonably well and didn't want to be so drugged that I couldn't have a proper conversation so I lowballed it a little. Other than my headache, I didn't really feel any pain, just extremely sore.

She seemed satisfied with that answer and helped me take a much more substantial drink of water than last time. She then stepped aside, letting the doctor approach and appraise me.

"Mr. Ingram, do you know where you are?" she asked, unclipping a pen from her clipboard as she prepared to run me through what I assumed was some sort of checklist.

"Hospital," I managed after clearing my throat, eliciting a nod as she made a mark on her clipboard.

"Can you tell me how old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Good. How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Four."

This went on for a few questions, asking if I knew what year it was, what town I was in, having me count backward from ten, and other things that were obviously trying to make sure my cognitive functions were working. She also checked my appendages – poking my toes with her pen, asking me to wiggle them, and just generally making sure that my body was in decent working order, all while continuing to ask me questions. It was all pretty dull and somewhat annoying considering I had so many burning questions I wanted to ask, but at least I was able to confirm that I was indeed still in Lavaridge, nodding when I'd answered her in the form of a question.

"Do you know how you ended up here?" she eventually asked, giving me the first difficult question that took thought and self-control to answer evenly.

"Rockets attacked the Pokécenter."

That's the answer I decided to go with, not wanting to recount the entire story or relive what I was beginning to realize was a rather traumatic experience, since I felt my heart begin to race every time I let my mind go anywhere near the event. I still wasn't exactly able to talk the easiest, so I wanted to keep my answers as short as I could. Thankfully, she accepted my answer and made one last mark on her clipboard before setting it on a table and pulling up a seat beside my bed.

"You're extremely lucky, Mr. Ingram. Your injuries could have been much worse. When I'd been informed that you had suffered a telepathic attack from a powerful psychic, I feared the worst for you. Yet I don't see anything concerning – your brain activity seems normal, your scan results came back good, and your cognitive abilities seem to be perfectly intact. We'll have to keep monitoring you, and you're likely to experience some lingering side effects, but it seems you might not have suffered any permanent brain damage, or at least not anywhere remotely comparable to the extent of what I had expected to find. The only proof I could even find that you likely did suffer a telepathic attack was that you appeared to have experienced intense involuntary muscular contractions, which explains why you're feeling so sore. You likely strained many of your muscles, and I can infer that you have some microtears as well, but there doesn't seem to be anything too alarming that time and rest won't heal."

"I was attacked. Telepathically," I confirmed, causing her to grimace.

"If that's true, they must not have intended on truly harming you. By all rights, you –"

"Apollo protected me," I interrupted to her confusion before clarifying. "My Ralts…. Or Kirlia, I think he evolved? Is he alright?"

"Stable condition, nothing life-threatening. That's what I was told about all four of your Pokémon, but beyond that I don't have any details. I'll try to get a status update for you soon, since you're finally awake and lucid," she said while giving me a reassuring smile. "Nurse Joy promised to give them the best care possible, and wanted me to tell you that she thanked you from the bottom of her heart."

"Does that mean they were stopped? Team Rocket?" I asked, my heart rate picking up again as her expression fell slightly before she caught herself and forced a smile, causing me to fear the worst.

"What matters is that you're alive, and so are your Pokémon. I'm not the right one to ask about what happened, I'm afraid. Pokémon are not my forte, people are, and I only know what's been in the news. There are a few people who have been waiting to talk to you, so perhaps I'll allow you some visitors today if you can manage it. But first, you need to eat."

"I could use some food," I admitted. "I'm starving."

She chuckled, "Naturally. You've been in a coma for two whole days, and an IV doesn't exactly fix an empty stomach."

"T-two days?!" I spluttered, not sure I'd heard that right.

"Oh yes. Rather fortunate, given the circumstances. If you can, try to at least stay awake long enough to eat some food. If you're still doing alright after, I'll notify Officer Jenny that you're ready to talk and let you decide if there's anyone else you would like to visit you, sound good?"

I nodded in agreement, and I soon found myself scarfing down a light meal, repeatedly being scolded for eating too fast on an empty stomach. The meal wasn't anything special – apple juice, a banana, and some yogurt. I practically begged for more, still feeling ravenous, but she told me that was plenty for now and that I could have some more in a little while, after a visitor or two if I felt up to it and was sure I wasn't going to fall asleep.

I agreed, and after informing me that Officer Jenny would be by soon, she asked if I wanted Owen to visit in the meantime. He had apparently had been sitting in the lobby for the majority of the last two days, but wasn't allowed in the room because he wasn't family or an emergency contact. She told me he was the only one consistently waiting around for me to wake up, but that there had been others calling or dropping in to check on my condition, including Flannery.

As Owen walked into the room, I gave him a sheepish grin and my best half-wave, not wanting to move too much. He returned with a wide grin, taking a seat in the chair beside my bed before reaching out and hesitating, likely because he'd been instructed not to try to hug me or anything like that if I had to guess. He settled for grabbing my shoulder and giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze before quickly withdrawing.

"How are you doing, dude? You feeling better after a long nap?" he asked, a searching look in his eyes as he closely examined me.

"I feel like I got body checked by a Ryhorn, but the painkillers help," I admitted eliciting a chuckle.

"They said you'd probably be pretty sore for a few days, but that it looks like you should make a full recovery. I'm really glad you're okay, dude. I'd never have been able to live with myself if I'd left you behind and you…" he trailed off as I shook my head.

"I hate to say it, but you wouldn't have made a difference. I'm glad you didn't come running in with Orion, he probably wouldn't have made it out alive. It's a miracle Apollo did, although I have no idea how he is beyond that. I was only told my entire team is in stable condition at the Pokécenter, but I'm waiting to hear more. Do you know how they are? Or what happened? I haven't been told anything, and my memory is a bit hazy."

For a brief moment, I saw something in Owen's expression I really didn't like. But it was gone before I could hope to place it and he quickly schooled his face, only bearing a slight grimace.

"I don't know what all happened on your end, you're the only one who does, but from what I know…" he hesitated, thinking of how he wanted to tell his version of events.

"Well, you saw me tackle their leader, Fifi. Or at least, I was pretty sure she was at the time from her sort of calling the shots and taking charge. She was all alone while you were handling the guy in the back, and the guy out front was getting his shit kicked in by Flannery and Vito, so I made it my mission to ensure sure she stayed out of the picture. Even with a few others trying to help subdue her, she wasn't exactly compliant – trying to kick, stab, elbow, and headbutt, all while saying some things that really got under my skin…"

He rubbed the back of his head and looked embarrassed. "I'll admit, she got to me. She kept running her mouth and putting up a fight even after I ended up dislocating her shoulder and we got the knife from her, so I ran out of patience and ended up just slamming her head against the floor to knock her out. I probably should have been a little more gentle or choked her out instead because I probably gave her a concussion, but I needed her incapacitated and was done with hearing her mouthing off. The front door was still being guarded by the Ariados and you were blocking the exit of the guy in the back while having a stand-off, so I decided to hide the leader just in case the Rockets tried to make a quick escape. She was on my shit list and in the palm of my hands, and I figured if they somehow got away that she'd be the best one we could possibly have, so I came up with an idea to keep her out of the picture and make sure she ended up behind bars."

He grimaced, "It's a bit messed up, but I carried her to my room to tie her up while Orion escorted me and played lookout. She was out cold, so after I had her stowed away we left her there and made our way back to the lobby. It looked like the Rocket out front was getting overwhelmed, so I went to check on you since I could you'd started battling."

I frowned, not remembering him ever doing that, but then again I wasn't exactly keeping a close eye on the door behind me. He continued, staring off into the distance as he recalled what had happened.

"From what I saw, things were going pretty well for you. You were keeping your distance and winning without even taking hits, and I saw a ton of Pokéballs spilled all over the floor that the Rocket was desperately trying to get into his backpack, so I figured you had things handled for the time being and wanted to get you some proper help. A few of us with Pokémon thought about trying to push out through the front door, but none of them were battlers and the Ariados was keeping a close eye on us despite fighting. I didn't want to send Orion into a full-blown battle against it, and nobody else felt confident they could take it, so we ended up deciding to wait for Rocket to lose, which seemed all but guaranteed. He was only hanging in there because his Pokemon refused to stay down, no matter how battered they got. That virus made them freakishly relentless, and they just kept throwing themselves into a hopeless battle with reckless abandon."

"I got to see a little of that," I commented. "The Mawile that Apollo fought refused to go down, and it was pretty mindless in how it battled for the most part. Apparently that's what happens when they're newly infected. Walker said that it is due to brain swelling or something. His Houndoom was infected long enough ago that it didn't have the negative symptoms and was much more level-headed. The only reason it seemed like we were winning was because it wasn't fighting seriously, but I didn't realize that until after another Rocket arrived and it was too late."

"Damn, it sounds like you got some useful information though. The Rockets seem to know even more about the virus than the League, and I got the sense they had somehow purposely infected their Pokémon, which is just seems crazy to me."

"They definitely did. I'd almost be inclined to say they were the ones responsible for it, if not for Fiona blaming the League, and Devon too oddly enough. Then again, they could have just been trying to stir the pot…" I shrugged, realizing I probably shouldn't take anything the Rockets said at face value.

"Well whatever the case, the Rocket at the door was losing. His Seviper was unconscious, the Mightyena was getting overwhelmed, the Ariados could only shoot webs from its spot guarding the door, and let's just say that a Golbat against a Charizard isn't exactly a fair fight, even with its speed advantage. He'd also released a Zangoose once the Seviper went down, but it didn't help much. Vito and Flannery weren't exactly pulling their punches, but they were being careful about causing collateral damage. Then, the Ariados suddenly just… exploded. I think it was Vito's Alakazam that did it, but it gave us an opening to start sneaking out since the Rocket and his Pokémon were too focused on battling. I recalled Orion, got out, and planned on getting either Vito or Flannery to go help you, but that went out the window once two more Rockets Teleported in with a Claydol."

Owen leaned back, a disturbed look on his face. "The guy guarding the door wasn't weak by any means, but those two that showed up late were way stronger. They sent out a bunch of strong Pokémon, and unlike Flannery and Vito they did not care about collateral damage. I saw Absol, Dustox, Sableye, Muk, Noctowl, Toxicroak, Luxray, and a damn Aggron, and it turned into a bloodbath."

He frowned, "It was starting to look like the Rockets might actually win, but eventually the man with the Claydol disappeared, and not long after another Ranger showed up, so the battle started swinging in our favor again. After they took down a few of the new arrivals, I finally managed to get Flannery's attention and told her that you were battling a Rocket in the back and needed help. The first opportunity she got, she pushed into the back room where you were, and that's when the Rockets started making their escape. They all got away… except for Fifi. Vito told me afterwards that the Claydol probably couldn't locate her since she was unconscious, so I guess that worked out."

"When you say they got away, does that mean…" I trailed off, not wanting to say it.

Owen nodded solemnly, pain clear in his eyes, and my heart sank as he confirmed my fears.

"Yeah. They made off with a lot of Pokémon… Including Roxy and Bruno."

I felt a pit in my stomach, but Owen seemed keen on pivoting topics and pressed on.

"Vito's Dodrio died, and so did the Volbeat of the other Ranger that showed up at the end. Flannery's Charizard and Vito's Alakazam got pretty beat up because they were being targeted, but I think it's nothing that can't heal. The Rockets lost Ariados, Golbat, and Dustox. No people died thankfully, but there were a few injuries. Honestly, considering how much things escalated, it's a miracle everything turned out so well."

"...What?!" I asked incredulously. "How could you possibly say that?"

"I know, it's fucked up. But dude… Lavaridge wasn't the only Pokécenter they targeted. We weren't lucky by any means, but we sure got off easier than what happened at some other places. The only Pokécenter that managed to fully repel the Rockets was Oldale, and that's because Professor Birch and his aids just so happened to show up at the right time. Fallarbor and Verdanturf got wiped clean, and people died in Fortree. Things might seem bad, but they got a lot worse elsewhere."

"Things seem pretty fucking bad to me," I countered. "They stole a bunch of Pokémon! Roxy and Bruno are gone! How are you not more upset about this?!" I half-shouted as I felt my anger spiking, but he just shook his head in resignation.

"I've had three days to be mad, Daniel. The night it happened after it was confirmed they were missing, then all of yesterday and today. I can only stay furious for so long. I'm still really angry, bitter, and resentful, but at a certain point I have to accept reality, lift my chin up, and try to keep pushing forward. I'm not quite there yet, but I'm making progress, and I don't want to push my negativity onto you. It might be messed up for me to say this, but in a weird way I'm glad you were unconscious so you didn't have to see me like that."

I frowned but kept quiet, realizing that I shouldn't be judging him for how he was handling things. It wasn't fair for me to try to push my outrage onto him because I was only just now hearing the news, considering it affected him most. In fact, I was pretty certain that he was doing far better than I would if I were in his shoes.

"The only reason I have any of my team is because of you," he continued. "They took a fraction of what they would have if not for you knocking their bag over from what Nurse Joy says. She had a lot of good things to say about you. You're a hero, dude."

"That's stupid," I scoffed. "They succeeded. I couldn't stop them, and my brilliant idea to stall didn't work. If anything, it's my fault that–"

"Stop," Owen said firmly. "Seriously dude, shut up and don't go there. If you weren't in a hospital bed, I'd punch you right now. I might not look angry because I'm doing my best to keep it buried, but if you keep talking like that you'll drag it out of me."

We slipped into an awkward silence, but not for long.

"I told Sammy what happened," Owen said, surprising me. "I had her number, and I just thought she should know what happened. She's fine, by the way. Apparently, she wasn't in Fallarbor when it got attacked, but in Rusboro with her family? Did you know about that? How she managed that is beyond me, considering the League's Teleportation services are basically at a standstill."

"Yeah, she –" I caught myself and hesitated, realizing that what I was about to say would be a terrible slip-up. Though I was no longer drugged out of my mind, there were still some painkillers flowing through my system that were making my brain work a little slower than normal.

Thankfully, not that slow. Saying that she had Teleported home before the lockdown was announced would definitely raise eyebrows, but I realized I could get away with mostly being truthful.

"She probably decided to spend the lockdown at home. Her family has a pretty powerful psychic they Teleport with, so she doesn't need to rely on the League services," I explained, only half-lying.

"If that's the case, she'll probably come for a visit now that you're awake. She's been worried sick about you and mentioned wanting to come see you, but I told her there wasn't much point until you woke up."

"She doesn't need to do that, I'm fine. Where is my phone…" I trailed off, looking around.

"I'm sure a nurse could get your phone for you. Or you could use mine, if you wanted," Owen offered.

"Eh, it's fine. Just text Sammy to let her know I'm awake and alright, if you wouldn't mind," I said as I leaned back, deciding my phone wasn't a priority.

"Already did. She asked me to keep her updated, so I told her the moment I found out you were awake. She wanted me to tell you that she's really relieved you're alright, but that you're, and I quote, 'an idiot'. For getting involved, I'm guessing?"

I snorted in amusement, an action that reminded me of just how sore I was. "Did she say the same thing to you? Or did you leave that part out of your story?"

"She chose very different words. She was actually pretty pissed at me initially, to be honest," he admitted with a grimace. "She reminded me that I'd agreed to keep you out of trouble, and took me tackling the Rocket and letting you go into the back alone as doing the complete opposite. After she cursed me out over the phone and I got the chance to explain things better, she seemed a lot less mad. I think she's still not exactly happy with me, but she's set it aside in favor of getting updates on you."

"Don't worry about it. Pissing off Sammy is sort of an inevitability, especially for anything she sees as reckless. We did the right thing, she'll get over it," I reassured him.

"I guess. While we're on the topic though, why isn't Sammy listed as an emergency contact?"

I gave Owen a blank stare, but he continued. "They wouldn't let anyone visit you while you were unconscious. I asked to, but they said you had no emergency contacts listed, and no living family on record to contact. I mean, I kind of knew that, but I guess it just really hit me that you truly don't have anybody except Sammy. She was completely stonewalled when she tried to call for details though. The only reason I even got vague updates was because Vito vouched that I was a close friend, but they wouldn't tell me anything specific. If you think of Sammy like a sister, you should really list her as an emergency contact dude. Add me on there while you're at it, if you want. It's just not right for someone to have nobody when something happens. That really got me thinking… Imagine if you died one day, and nobody ever even knew. That's wrong, on a lot of levels."

I was left speechless – moved by his gesture, bewildered that this was somehow a new revelation to him, and somewhat annoyed at the hint of pity I saw cross his eyes. But he looked truly disturbed and sympathetic, and it was gone a moment later.

"It was just an idea, you don't have to," Owen hastily added. "But at least add Sammy. Do you know what happens to someone's Pokémon when they die? If there's no will, emergency contacts, or next of kin that can care for them, they stay in League custody. Sometimes they get released, but often that can't happen when they've been extensively trained. There's technically a foster system, but it's not exactly…" he trailed off and I nodded, catching his meaning.

After all, I myself hadn't had any luck in being adopted. Being an Eevee, Orion could probably find a home fairly easily, maybe even Apollo, but would they be happy being sent to live with a stranger, especially if they weren't a traveling trainer? And what of Trapinch and Duran? Trapinch could probably be released into the wild, but Duran was much too powerful. Even before being trained, he was already menacing to the ecosystem he inhabited, and as an invasive species he technically shouldn't have even been allowed to reside in the pond I'd found him in.

"Point taken," I conceded. "I might take you up on that. Just don't ever feel obligated to do anything. I don't want to burden you, but maybe some of my team would be happy to join yours or live with your family, if you'd have them. Sammy would probably figure something out for Apollo and Orion, at a minimum… Well, it's not worth thinking about too deeply since I don't plan on dying anytime soon. But you're right, I should have considered this sooner. In fact, now that you've reminded me of the adoption system, I think I might look into that."

"It can be tricky. Some of them have already been trained, so it can be a chore getting them to adjust to the way you do things. There's also the fact that you have to deal with whatever trauma they have. Many of them either lost their trainer or got confiscated after they weren't properly cared for or abused. I remember hearing that less than a third of Pokémon ever get chosen for adoption, and roughly half of those that do end up getting returned because things don't work out. But dude, enough about that, tell me what happened to you already!"

"I think Officer Jenny is actually going to come take my statement here soon. If she lets you stick around, you can–"

As if on cue, there was a sudden knock on the door, and the nurse stepped in to check that I was still doing alright before informing me that Officer Jenny had arrived to take my statement. I confirmed that I was still feeling up for it, and Owen was thankfully allowed to stay despite having already given his statement. Officer Jenny was shown in, we shared quick pleasantries, and she soon got to work.

I recounted the story as best as I could, although I found myself short of breath and increasingly agitated when I got to the point where things turned serious. Looking back, I had definitely been rattled during my first encounter with Keegan, but I'd always been able to think and talk about it without much issue. It was simply an unpleasant memory I didn't enjoy talking about, but this latest encounter was different.

This latest run-in was something that truly rattled me to my core to think about, on a lot of levels. I kept imagining Apollo's limp and bloodied body being slammed against the wall, a scene that I could tell would stick with me for a long time to come, just like when I'd found my mom's lifeless corpse lying on the kitchen floor after school.

Of course, there was also the mental assault I'd taken. Having no perception of time, my body, or my surroundings – only pain and pressure bearing down on me for what seemed like an eternity as I felt like I was slipping closer to insanity and death's doors.

But those were only byproducts, not the cause. I've since come to realize that what really made that encounter particularly traumatizing isn't at all related to the violence or close brush with death. After all, I'd had a gun shot at me before and had seen Whismur getting slaughtered by a Geodude in Rusturf Tunnel, and it hadn't affected me nearly as much.

What set this latest situation apart from the events in Petalburg Woods and Rusturf Tunnel, and what I eventually realized had put it on the same level as finding my mother dead, was the utter helplessness I felt. In those previous events I was able to do something about it, yet against the Claydol I couldn't help Apollo any more than I could my mom, and the best I could manage to do against the assault on my mind was to not give in for as long as possible, though I'm pretty sure I ultimately failed at that as well. There was no way to stop any of it – no way for me to make things right.

I was nothing more than a bystander to horrible things happening to the ones I love, and I both hated and feared that more than anything.

Despite how hard it was to recount what had happened to Officer Jenny, I eventually managed it, although it took being repeatedly told to slow down, breathe, or take a moment to calm down.

Owen stayed perfectly silent the entire time, listening attentively to every detail as if committing it to memory. I noted all the names and descriptions of the Rockets as best as I could – Fiona, Dom, and Walker being the initial three that invaded the Pokécenter, Dorian as the higher-ranked man with a Claydol, and someone named Swan who had joined the battle happening in the street.

Officer Jenny kept asking me to elaborate on things to ensure I wasn't accidentally leaving anything out, and even asked me to do some speculating. She was particularly interested in the conversation I had with Walker and probed extensively on why I was apparently 'wanted for retrieval' by Team Rocket – something she'd clearly gathered from other reports she'd already taken. I had to explain to her my original run-in with Keegan, and that I had no idea why they would want me other than exacting some sort of revenge, though Dorian had implied that wasn't the case.

Officer Jenny theorized that somebody wanted to do that to me personally, and that's why they were so adamant about me going with them rather than just getting revenge there, but ultimately we had no way of knowing for sure.

She also seemed deeply interested in the Pokérus information I relayed to her – how Walker had described its lifecycle, called it symbiotic, and said there were benefits. She didn't seem at all convinced, suggesting it was likely a lie Team Rocket was circulating in an attempt to get people to willingly spread the virus to allow them to continue thriving in the chaos. Still, she asked me to all that to myself, not wanting misinformation or propaganda to make an already volatile situation worse.

I readily agreed, but secretly found myself believing it more than she seemed to. After all, he seemed to know what he was talking about, and both Owen and I had seen first-hand how much harder it was battling the infected Pokémon, coming to the same conclusion that they were stronger than they otherwise would have been. But she was right that people infecting their Pokémon would be bad for everyone, and it wasn't like I had a bunch of people I was planning on telling anyway.

Before Officer Jenny excused herself, she deeply apologized for failing to protect us. I felt bad for her, because it was obvious that she felt a great deal of shame at having been taken out of the picture so easily, but considering it was a sneak attack on her I wasn't about to fault her for it. I didn't think she'd have made much of a difference anyway, but I'd always heard that an Officer Jenny's Growlithe was a lot stronger than they seemed, and that it wasn't uncommon for Jennys to have other Pokémon tucked away for the rare situations where Growlithe couldn't get the job done.

"Hey Danny, that reminds me…" Owen said when we were once again alone. "After they found out that the Rockets wanted you, and considering you sort of ruined their heist, Officer Jenny had a Ranger keeping watch over the hospital to make sure they didn't try to grab you. But the guy didn't exactly last long… before that first night was even over, he got dismissed from his duties."

I gave Owen a blank state, having no clue what he was getting at.

"There's this guy that's been hanging around the hospital. He dresses normal enough, and if you just glanced at him you might not think much of him. But he carries himself with absolute confidence, and the more time I spent here the more I saw him around… Not to mention, when I got a good look at him I felt like I recognized him. Anyways, I kept seeing him, and a couple times I noticed him whispering to himself. I didn't put the pieces together until this morning, but it's Warren Thatcher."

I continued giving Owen a blank stare, not sure if I should know who that was, but before he could continue a hair-raising cackle echoed throughout the room – one that sent shivers down my spine, as it was decidedly not human.

It startled both of us, and Owen bolted to his feet in alarm as a Gengar poked its head out of the wall with a huge grin and a mischievous wave.

"What the–" I started to yell, but Owen held out a hand to stop me.

"You're protecting Daniel, aren't you?" Owen asked, a bit shakily.

The Gengar giggled before sticking out a tongue and disappearing back into the wall. We sat in stunned silence for a moment until Owen sat down, looking only slightly disturbed compared to how I felt.

"Guess now I know who he was whispering to. I know for sure he's got a Hitmonchan, and if memory serves there's also an Alakazam and Manectric too, although I forget the others and am working off of old information. I'm not sure what he's been up to these days, but I know he used to be a big deal after winning the Ever Grande Conference when we were younger. He used to be on TV shows, participated in a lot of tournaments, and was even sponsored by Devon. I remember watching his battles when I was combing through the list of winners, looking for fighting-types and how they battled at the highest level."

"And he's here… protecting me?" I asked, the pieces not yet clicking in my head even though they should have at the mention of Devon. "Is he a Ranger?"

Owen shrugged, "I don't think so. Rangers have to be in uniform when on duty, and he's been much more subtle than the Ranger who was standing guard before. Considering the Ranger that was watching the hospital got dismissed almost immediately after I started to notice him lurking about, I can only assume he's replaced them and is stronger than anyone the League could spare to put on you."

"If he's allowed to have his Pokémon out in town despite the lockdown, he must be a Ranger. If he's not, how could they be sure he's not a Rocket, and why would they even let him do what he's doing?"

"Dunno, thought you might know," Owen remarked. "Vito stopped by to chat earlier today, and I brought him up after I recognized who he was. I pointed him out and Vito even confirmed who it was, saying he battled him a few times years ago. Vito was of the opinion that he's private security, and he pointed out that he must have some pretty high-level certifications for the League to be given the green light to do what he's doing. Last Vito heard, he was working full-time security for Devon, but that was a couple of years ago."

With that, the pieces finally fell into place. Samantha was definitely responsible for this, although it was probably more accurate to say that Steven had arranged it at her strong urging.

"Huh…" was all I could manage to say.

"Got any ideas? My first guess at who could afford to hire a guy like that was Ana, but that doesn't make any sense. I haven't talked to her, and even if she somehow knew you were in the hospital, I seriously doubt she'd send someone like that even if you'd accepted the sponsorship, let alone after only sharing a pleasant meal. My only other thought was that maybe Sammy's parents did it, but that can't be it either. From what I gather you hardly even know them, and even though it's obvious they're pretty well off it would take an insane amount of wealth to have that guy on call, especially during a time like this. I decided to ask Sammy about it anyway, just on the off-chance it was a family favor or something, but she was as clueless as me."

Taking Samantha's lead, I did the only thing I could think of – deny and deflect.

"No clue. All I know is that I'm starting to feel pretty crummy, mind getting the nurse for me?"

Elegantly foolproof, and not entirely untrue.

"Yeah sure. I've probably hung around here long enough anyway," Owen said as he stood from his chair. "Glad you're doing better, dude. You really had us worried for a while there. They weren't sure when you were going to wake up – they were about to give you a feeding tube and everything."

"Glad I didn't wake up to that," I groaned. "Speaking of food though, mind asking if she'll bring me some? They only let me eat a little when I woke up, and I could really use some more."

"Consider it done. I'll probably see you tomorrow, since they'll likely want to hold you overnight to keep an eye on you. My morning workout has been lonely these past couple of days, so try to get back on your feet soon, yeah?"

I chuckled and gave him a nod as he excused himself, and sure enough the nurse soon returned.

Not only with food and my phone, but also news of my team, which ended up being equal parts relieving and horrifying.

The good news was that they were all alive and well. Unsurprisingly, Duran hadn't suffered any serious injury, and Orion hadn't even battled so I already knew he'd be alright. It was Apollo I'd been most worried about, and I was unbelievably happy to hear that he was not only going to fully recover, but had indeed evolved.

I was once again reminded of just how resilient Pokémon could be, because I know that if I was in his place and had been repeatedly slammed into the wall like that I would be anything but fine. I'd been expecting him to have broken bones or at least a concussion, but the report she read from didn't mention any of that, only that he was doing well and had already made a full recovery.

That could also be because it noted that Apollo's evolution greatly contributed to his rapid recovery. I remembered reading that when a Pokémon evolved, it wasn't at all uncommon for injuries to be completely mended, even some that would otherwise be permanent. There were obvious limitations to this, but things like bone fractures, gashes, ruptured ears, scars, and the like were pretty much guaranteed to all but vanish upon evolution. However, something as drastic as a missing limb or eye was a lot less likely, though also not entirely unheard of either in some rare circumstances. It depended a lot on what the injury was, the species, and how drastic of a change that particular part of the Pokémon's body would be affected by evolving.

This phenomenon also had its downsides. For example, if a Pokémon had something like a serious compound fracture that caused their bones to break so badly that they bent the wrong way, evolving without first getting the bones properly set and realigned would cause a malunion that was exceedingly difficult and painful to rectify, if not impossible. Fixing a bone that had healed incorrectly was nasty business, because breaking the bone in exactly the same place and re-setting it wasn't always feasible. Even with Ditto cells ready to aid in the healing process, the risk associated wasn't always worth it.

The regenerative properties of evolution was a big reason why having a Pokémon evolve mid-battle could so easily change the tides. It gave them a significant boost in their strength and capabilities, quickly healed most of the physical damage that had been dealt to them, and came with a massive spike of adrenaline.

Though it wouldn't quite make the Pokémon 'good as new', calling it a second wind was majorly underselling it. If you'd just spent four minutes wearing down your opponent only to have them suddenly evolve, you basically had to start over from scratch against an entirely new opponent – one that was stronger, riding an adrenaline high, and likely didn't know the limits of their newfound power. Any damage you'd dealt, status effect you'd inflicted, or stamina you'd run out would basically be negated in the blink of an eye, and if the battle was even remotely close before, chances were high that you would suddenly find yourself in serious trouble.

In fact, there's something of an unspoken agreement that if a Pokémon were to evolve in the heat of battle, it's considered both polite and responsible to concede the round unless the battle is high stakes. It's not that it's exactly rude not to, more like ill-advised and unnecessarily risky, since statistics clearly show that the chances of there being a serious battle-related injury after an evolution spiked exponentially. When a Pokémon is running on adrenaline and suddenly has a massive influx of power that they aren't yet familiar with controlling, the likelihood that they put too much power behind an attack and seriously injure their opponent is a very real possibility.

The League tended to be much more forgiving regarding incidents of this nature, and blame usually fell on the trainer who refused to bow out knowing the risks. After all, they aren't in the business of punishing those who inflict accidental injury, only those who show an intent on maiming or killing.

As relieved as I was to find that Apollo hadn't suffered any lasting injuries or had any issues with his evolution, my elation didn't last long. She concluded by saying that although they wanted to keep me for overnight observation to monitor me and run a few more tests, I would likely be released in the morning and would be free to pick up my Trapinch at the Pokécenter.

Only Trapinch – all three of my core team members had tested positive for Pokérus, and were to remain quarantined in League custody until the infectious period ended and they no longer exhibited the negative symptoms.

At first I was in a state of distress, hammering her with questions she didn't know the answer to, but it soon morphed into full-on anger. Not at her specifically, but at the logical conclusions my series of questions led me to.

When would I get my team back?

Were they going to be alright?

But the most pressing question of all, and the one that upset me the most, was how it had happened. Apollo hadn't taken any physical hits that could spread the virus, and Orion hadn't even battled. Hell, even in Duran's case, he had only been briefly bitten by the Houndoom, and from my understanding it wasn't even infectious anymore, considering its negative symptoms were no longer present.

But there was one thing that those three team members shared in common, and that realization reminded me of something that Fiona had mentioned.

She'd said something about them having infected Flannery's team, which was why they weren't worried about her interfering, although apparently it hadn't made it to her Charizard. Best I could figure, that meant that Team Rocket had sent some of their people to challenge the gym leaders just a day or two before the lockdown was announced.

Which meant two things – Flannery had inadvertently infected my team during our battle, and Team Rocket wasn't simply capitalizing on the lockdown's announcement. They knew it was coming, and had planned around it.

In fact, the more I thought about it, I became convinced that they had purposely infected Nurse Joy's Chansey as well. That would be an ideal way to spread the virus, and was what caused the Pokécenter to be short-staffed so they couldn't simply perform the screening on the spot.

I also realized, belatedly, that if my team was infected, it not only meant that Duran had needlessly been fighting with a handicap, but some of Owen's had surely been infected as well. I suddenly felt like a complete ass for not having asked if he'd gotten his team back, but I'd had a lot on my mind and wasn't exactly thinking clearly.

Seeing that I was lost in thought as continued connecting the dots and provided myself with more answers than she could hope to, she apologized for the bad news and excused herself, wanting to give me space. On her way out she reminded me that I should eat, and that if I wanted to ensure I was released tomorrow that proper rest was important.

But I couldn't. I no longer found myself hungry, and apparently all I'd done for the last few days was sleep. I was far too angry restless to do anything like that.

I wanted to cry tears of frustration, and to scream at the top of my lungs how unfair and unjust the world could be – loud enough that even Arceus would hear. But there was no point, and it would only exacerbate the familiar feeling of complete helplessness that once again began creeping upon me.

But I wasn't helpless, at least not entirely. It was true that there was no way to fix things, and even if I demanded that they release me so I could go to the Pokécenter, I was pretty certain there was no possibility of me even seeing them, let alone helping them in any meaningful way.

I closed my eyes, took deep breaths, and focused. My mindfulness and meditation techniques once again proving how valuable they could be, the answer to what I could do became clear almost immediately.

Instead of venting my frustrations, I buried them as best as I could and grabbed my phone, which the nurse had been kind enough to leave on the table beside my hospital bed. Completely ignoring the sea of notifications, I did the only productive thing that I could think of.

I researched and planned – determined to do everything in my power to ensure that the next time something happened to me, I'd be less likely to once again end up utterly helpless.

A/N: Sorry it's so late. I haven't slept yet, so it's still technically Thursday. That's how that works right?

Editing has been painful, and try as I might there's probably still issues, so let me know if there's anything major I missed.