In the Wrong Place at the Right Time

"I don't know what's going on, but I know that I hate it." - Jet Engine

Absol

Sprout had gotten a Caterpie to cover Pikachu's wound with String Shot. That would do for now, but Pikachu really would benefit from a Pokemon Center. Wobbles and I are still smarting from Hatterene's attacks, but the berries Eevee had brought us took most of the edge off. Pikachu had insisted that we all rest before moving on, at least for a little while. Naturally, we vetoed this, though he still tried to fight us on it. Nevermind the fact that he'd just lost his ear. No, somehow everyone else's mild discomfort was more important than losing a body part.

That 'mon worries me sometimes. His heart is in the right place, but I'm quickly learning that there is such a thing as being too nice.

Actually, it was Wobbles who had practically shoved Pikachu in the direction of the city, half-begging, half-demanding that he head straight for a Pokemon Center. Despite everyone's arguments, I know she feels at least partly responsible for Pikachu's injury. I don't think Pikachu feels any resentment toward her, but it's hard to tell.

Pikachu's been quiet since we left Hatterene's den. Not that I blame him, of course, but it's the type of quiet that bothers me. He doesn't seem traumatized; no, he almost seems depressed or something. Oh, he smiles and gives us the old "I'm fine" this and "no need to worry" that, but we aren't stupid.

Our hustle let us get the rest of the way to Vermilion City in record time. Or, so we'd thought until Sprout read some sign and told us that it was actually Saffron City. When she said that, I wasn't sure if Pikachu was going to burst into tears or lightning.

Frankly, all cities are pretty much the same to me. They're full of massive buildings, some of which seem to stretch all the way up to the sky. Cars and trucks constantly zoom over the hard, black-paved streets and spread a pungent smell that stinks up everything. There's an endless stream of noises. And, of course, humans are here, there, and everywhere. There are some pokemon, but I don't know how any self-respecting pokemon, poison-types and steel-types aside, could get used to living in a place like this. To each their own, I suppose.

We duck between buildings and alleys, managing to not draw any unwanted attention. Quite a feat, considering that we are five random, trainer-less pokemon, two of whom aren't exactly a common sight in Kanto. At one point, we ran into a Rattata who'd been digging around in an overturned garbage can, and we asked where the Pokemon Center was. He'd taken one look at Pikachu and didn't hesitate to point us in the right direction.

We had no issues until Pikachu found some gray paper covered in tiny black markings. They must have been words, because he'd asked Spout to read the "date."

"March thirty-first," Sprout had said. "Why do you ask?"

"And-and, that means tomorrow's April, right?" Pikachu asked fearfully. "April first?"

"Not necessarily," Sprout responded, still looking at the paper and not seeing Pikachu relax. Nor, his reaction when she added, "After all, this paper could be days old. Maybe even weeks, for all we know."

At that, I thought that Pikachu was going to burst into tears and lightning. Wobbles, Eevee, and I had no idea what they were talking about, but this "April first" is clearly important to Pikachu. He's been in a fog since he found that paper and has yet to explain what the problem is.

I want to believe it's the situation, that he's waiting until he's been fixed up properly before he lets it all out. But, I think it's more complicated than that. It just isn't natural for someone to keep all their feelings inside the way Pikachu's been doing, and I'm not the only one who's worried.

Eevee in particular has all but attached himself to Pikachu, asking all kinds of questions about cities in a desperate attempt to cheer him up. Any other time, I'm sure Pikachu would be more than happy to educate him on human civilization. But, now Pikachu's answers are clipped and quiet, if he answers at all. It's a sobering sight.

It's a huge relief when we finally reach the Pokemon Center: a large white structure with a bright red roof, making it easy to spot. I may have my reservations about humans, but every pokemon knows that the humans who work here can be trusted. Though, we wild pokemon only come here if it's convenient or if there's a medical issue we can't deal with ourselves. And, if Pikachu tells us he's fine one more time, I'm going to claw his other ear off.

Normally, the doors open on their own when you get near them. They don't do that when we arrive, though pushing on the doors does allow us entrance. The strangeness doesn't end there, however. It is oddly dark in here, with the only light coming in from the large windows. Trainers are milling around or sitting restlessly. Some are talking quietly with one another, others are silent but no less anxious. A few looked at us when we entered, but we are mostly ignored.

"What's going on?" Eevee asks behind me.

Sprout steps forward, taking it all in, her usual caution amplified. "It kind of looks like a power outage."

"Well, that's inconvenient," Wobbles adds.

I've heard of power outages. Human structures can only function with the use of electricity. I don't know why that is or how it works, but I know that losing that electricity can be really bad in a place like this, where humans aren't the only creatures counting on it.

Two females appear out of a door next to the front desk. One is a large, round, pink pokemon with tiny arms and what looks like a big egg sitting in a stomach pouch: Chansey, the head pokemon of most Pokemon Centers. Behind her is a pale-skinned human with dark pink hair pulled back and a short pale pink dress partially covered by a white cloth-thing: Nurse Joy, the head human. Both look forlorn.

"Attention, everyone," Nurse Joy calls out. "Thank you for your patience, but I'm afraid there's bad news. The circuit box has a blown fuse, and the back-up generator isn't working either. The electrician is doing everything he can, but he says that the only thing left to do is go pick up some new parts."

A woman who…seems kind of familiar shoots out of her chair. "And, how long will that take?" she shouts. She's wearing a light blue shirt with a bandage peeking out from under her sleeve and glasses with thick purple rims. Her magenta-colored hair is pulled into two buns on top of her head, giving a full view of the fury on her face. "We have a Meowth in there," she points toward the back room, "who needs surgery! Or, did you forget?"

"Meowth?" Pikachu's voice is so quiet, he may as well have not spoken at all.

I hear footsteps and turn my head to see him running up to the Wobbuffet with the shouting woman. Said pokemon has a weird, bitter smell, as if someone dumped that perfume stuff on him. (Come to think of it, the humans with him smell like that too. Huh.) He wears a furry brown hat with ear-like flaps on the sides and a long yellow cloth wrapped around his shoulders. I can't get a read on him, but he seems as familiar as the woman, and Pikachu must recognize him.

The two speak in hushed tones while a male human stands up. This one has bluish-purple hair just long enough to be pulled in a tail-like style at the base of his skull, though a few strands hang around his face. He wears a brown shirt with sleeves that stretch down to his wrists and glasses with matching rims. That's three familiar faces. Who are they?

The man pulls his female companion back into her seat. "I'm so sorry," he says to Nurse Joy. The woman growls and crosses her arms but doesn't say anything else. Neither of them have noticed Pikachu yet. Maybe the Wobbuffet's not with them.

Apparently, Chansey and Nurse Joy haven't spotted Pikachu yet either, though from their vantage point, he would be hidden behind Wobbuffet. The nurses simply glare at the woman before regaining their composure. "The electrician just left to pick up the parts," Nurse Joy goes on, "but the closest place to find them is Cerulean City."

"But, that's hours from here!" someone exclaims.

"What about our pokemon?" someone else asks.

Nurse Joy folds her hands in front of her. "The good news is that most of our current patients can be treated without electricity. However, we do have a Meowth who needs emergency surgery. But, I am told there could be a way to keep the power going until the electrician returns."

"Well, don't keep us in suspense!" the shouting woman demands. "That's our Meowth in there!" Her companion takes her hand in his, calming her slightly. They must be mates.

Nurse Joy continues speaking, undeterred. "Do any of you have electric-type pokemon with you?" Oh no. "We can utilize their electricity as a back-up battery."

"What about just electric-type attacks?" a trainer asks.

But, the nurses shake their heads. "I'm afraid that won't work," Nurse Joy says. "Electric-type pokemon have an internal source of electricity that other types don't."

"I'll help!"

Saw that coming.

Pikachu charges up to the nurses, who gasp at the sight of him. I can't say I blame them; his String Shot bandage is looking a little red. "Just tell me what to do! Please!"

The desperation in his voice alarms me. This is the most lively he's been all day but not in a good way.

Before the gang and I can call him back, the blue-haired male begs, "Pikachu, don't!" He holds out his hand and wags his fingers in a "come here" gesture. "Please. You're not fit for this." His mate is quiet, staring down at her feet as if she wants to melt into the floor. The Wobbuffet looks equally stricken. So, they all know Pikachu. Hm…

"Is this your Pikachu, sir?" Nurse Joy asks.

"No," he says, "but that hardly matters here."

Nurse Joy bends down to pick Pikachu up, but he dodges and runs for the door the nurses came out of. "I have to try!" he pleads, his voice high and shaky. "Please, let me try!"

"Not in your condition," I argue. The gang voices their agreement.

Nurse Joy looks pityingly at him for a moment before asking the trainers for able-bodied electric-types. The trainers talk amongst themselves, though it sounds like nobody has any. There's a cold dread in my stomach when I realize that Pikachu might be the only electric-type pokemon here.

"Your friends are right," Chansey says to him, her tone kind but firm, the voice of someone who's dealt with difficult patients before. "We need to get that injury looked at immediately."

But, there's a wildness on Pikachu's face that I've never seen before. He won't take no for an answer. "But, Meowth! He can't- He-"

The gang and I move forward when Pikachu starts hyperventilating, but Chansey holds up a hand to stop us and approaches Pikachu. Everyone in the room watches in awe as a shimmering blue veil surrounds her and creates a soft chiming sound. She is close enough that the veil is touching Pikachu, who slowly begins to relax.

"That would be the move Heal Bell," Wobbles quietly explains to us. "It's a normal-type move that's typically used to remove the user's status condition, but it also has a calming effect on those around the user."

"Thank you, Chansey," Nurse Joy says once Heal Bell ends. Chansey nods in acknowledgement and steps aside. Nurse Joy turns to the crowd. "Is this Pikachu with anyone?"

"He's with us!" Eevee leaps to the front of the group. "He's our friend and he's acting crazy and-and I don't know why!" I pull him back with a paw, and Sprout takes him in her leaves while he whimpers against her.

"Eevee…" Pikachu says sadly.

Nurse blinks sympathetically, really seeing our group for the first time. "So, a wild pokemon, then?"

"Probably," a trainer says. "I saw them all come in together. No trainer in sight."

We have no way of correcting him, though I wish we did. Pikachu looks like he's going to freak out again.

The trainer next to him raises an eyebrow. "Do wild pokemon use Pokemon Centers?"

"For things like this," Nurse Joy says with a worried look at Pikachu.

"I'm fine," he says adamantly before sticking his hands on the door. "Now, open the door, and tell me what to do!"

"You're in no condition to help," Chansey says with that same nurse-tone.

Nurse Joy kneels down to address Pikachu. "It's good that you want to help, but you could end up hurting yourself worse if that ear isn't treated properly."

"She's right, Pikachu," Wobbles says.

"Let them fix you up," Sprout begs.

We're all ignored. Pikachu is now pushing on the door, and I know we lost him a while ago.

Eevee nuzzles my leg. "Why is Pikachu crazy?"

I sigh heavily. "I don't know what to tell you, Eevee."

"The problem is that he's both stubborn and selfless," Wobbles says pityingly. "That's a bad combination." Truer words were never spoken.

Nurse Joy confirms that there really are no other electric-type pokemon available, then she grits her teeth and watches Pikachu continue to push on the door. She turns to her partner, who shrugs helplessly.

"Desperate times," Chansey says.

Nurse Joy bites her lip, sees no good options, and frowns in a grim acceptance. "Pikachu?" Pikachu stops pushing and looks up. "We'll take you downstairs, but you have to at least let me replace that webbing on your head."

When Pikachu shakes his head, Chansey narrows her eyes at him. "It's either that or the proper stitches," she says, "which would take a lot longer. Those are your options."

Pikachu's remaining ear droops, and he nods reluctantly.

After Chansey and Nurse Joy take Pikachu to get patched up, at least temporarily, everyone starts talking about what just happened. Most of it is speculation on whether or not a Pikachu could power a building on its own.

I turn to the gang, who are looking as worried as I feel. "What do you all make of this?"

"I'm not sure," Sprout says. She turns to Wobbles. "Do you think he could do it?"

"Honestly," Wobbles says, "I don't know. If there were other electric-types helping, I wouldn't worry too much, but…"

Eevee shuffles his forepaws. "But, Pikachu's really strong."

Wobbles shakes her head. "This isn't about strength. Needless to say, electric-types have an ample amount of electricity in their bodies. Well, except for Joltik, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, just because they have a lot of electricity doesn't mean that it's limitless."

This just keeps getting worse. "What happens if he runs out?" I force myself to ask.

Wobbles sucks air through her teeth and leaves it at, "Nothing good."

Then, a small voice. "I just don't understand."

The source of the voice is the human who was yelling before. She is in the same position, still staring at her feet, but her face is scrunched up like she's trying not to cry. Even I feel bad for her. I wonder what's on her mind.

Wobbuffet rests his hands over her knee. The human's blue-haired mate is biting his lip, still holding her hand. He clears his throat and murmurs to her, "Why don't we get some air."

As he and Wobbuffet lead the female out the door, I wrack my brain, trying to figure out how I know them. Pikachu obviously does; maybe I'll ask once he gets out of wherever his head is. For his sake, I hope that's sooner rather than later. In the short time I've known him, I've seen the 'mon in a lot of moods, but whatever all that was is a new one. I don't like it.

"I know they're bad guys," Eevee says sympathetically, "but I don't like seeing them so sad." He turns to me. "Can I please go check on them?"

I'm about to humor him, but his words nag me. "Bad guys? What do you mean?"

"Do you recognize them, Eevee?" Sprout asks.

Eevee tilts his head and looks at us like we're idiots. "Yeah. It's Team Rocket. And, the sick Meowth is probably the one who talks like a human."

And, he knows this how? Similar appearances or not, they're scents are way off. I know Eevee has the strongest nose among us, but he couldn't possibly pick up their natural scents under that perfume-stench, could he? I don't know if I'm proud or irritated. Sprout and I glance at each other, equally conflicted.

"Uh, Eevee," Wobbles says, sounding like she can't decide either, "if you knew this, why didn't you say something?"

Eevee shrugs. "You're grown-ups. If I knew, then I just figured you guys knew, too."

Well, that's a blow to my ego. Once I recover from the shock, I tell him, "Um, I'm not sure you should be out there alone with bad guys."

"I'll go with him," Wobbles volunteers.

I'm still not sure, but I doubt Team Rocket is in the trouble-causing mood. "Alright. Go ahead."

"Be careful," Sprout warns as our friends head out. To me, she says, "I'm really worried about Pikachu. And, not just because of what Wobbles said."

"So am I," I agree. "Anyone can see that something is wrong. I'm hoping he'll explain once this whole mess is settled."

Sprout taps the tips of her leaves together. "Maybe." She doesn't sound so sure.

Eventually, Wobbles and Eevee come back inside. Neither of them look harmed at all, but they don't look happy either. I'd been pacing, and Sprout had managed to climb onto a chair. Meanwhile, the lights came back on not long ago, so Pikachu must be doing his thing. I hope he's alright.

Sprout slides off her seat and approaches our friends. "How'd it go?"

Eevee's ears are limp on his head. "They're sad."

"Meowth has a tumor in his stomach," Wobbles explains. "Apparently, 'tumor' is the human term for rotting disease."

Sprout and I shiver. Rotting disease is a truly terrible thing. It comes out of nowhere and tears you apart from the inside. If you get that, you're done for unless you can get to a Pokemon Center in time. I don't know a single wild pokemon who knows how to cure that nightmare. Suddenly, Pikachu's ear doesn't seem so bad.

"Do you think Pikachu will last long enough?" Sprout wonders. "I don't know much about surgery, but I know it takes a while."

Wobbles shrugs. "Here's hoping."

Eevee's tail lashes anxiously. "Pikachu's so crazy right now. Can he do it when he's crazy?"

Sprout rests her leaf on his head. "He's not crazy, Eevee. He's just very upset."

"He's been upset all day!" Eevee moans.

"I wish he would just explain himself," I say.

"Maybe it's not that simple," Sprout says. "I've been thinking about it, and I think it has something to do with Ash."

Now, she has my attention. Pikachu's said enough good things about Ash that I haven't worried too much about returning Pikachu to him. That could change depending on what Sprout says next. "What do you mean?" I ask.

"Human culture dictates that you have to keep bad feelings in check at all times. The only time it's socially acceptable to let it all out is when you're alone. It's okay to do it in front of those you trust, as in really, really trust, but some people don't even do that."

That sounds…very unhealthy.

Wobbles crosses her arms. "I see where you're going with this." At my and Eevee's confusion, she says, "Sometimes pokemon with trainers will start to act like those trainers. It's not intentional. It just kind of happens."

I fight the shiver that runs down my spine at her words. "Act like their trainers, you say? How-how often does that happen?"

Wobbles puts her hand on my shoulder, hearing what I'm not saying. "Let me put it to you this way. If you were anything like your trainer and her cronies, none of us would be here right now."

Time passes. I don't know how much, but Sprout keeps shooting glances at the clock on the wall and making nervous sounds. Team Rocket, having calmed down at least a little, had come back in shortly after Eevee and Wobbles. Wobbles had made the comment, "Hey, she fixed her makeup," without telling us what happened outside or what makeup is.

At some point a male worker with an Aipom on his head had called Team Rocket over; they must have given fake names, because the man had referred to the humans in the group as "Jacob" and "Jessamine." He said that Meowth's surgery went well, and the 'mon would make a full recovery. Everyone within earshot, the gang and I included, was utterly relieved; no matter how bad you are, no one deserves to die like that. In fact, James had broken down on the spot, covering his mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his sobs.

"Do we have to take you outside now?" Jessie had teased with a watery smile.

The scene had kind of undermined Sprout's claim that humans don't get emotional in public. Then again, when you spend so much time holding it in…

Jessie, James, and Wobbuffet had wanted to see Meowth for themselves, but the worker explained that Meowth needed to sleep off the anesthesia (whatever that is) and that they would keep him under observation for a while after he woke up. The worker emphasized that this was merely a formality, and Meowth would be fine. The worker had promised to call them in when Meowth was ready for visitors.

That was ages ago. The power's been on the whole time, and I don't think the humans fixed it yet. In the meantime, several other patients had been returned to their trainers, yet no one's left the building. I've mostly been ignoring their conversations, though Pikachu's name has come up more than once.

"Is Pikachu still in there?" Eevee asks. I'd been grooming the poor kid to try and relieve both his stress and mine. It's not working, but it gives me something to do, if nothing else.

I finish licking his tail as Wobbles, who had just gotten back from interviewing a pokemon called Togetic, tosses her hands in the air. "I guess so. I feel like he'd be back by now if he wasn't."

Meanwhile, Jessie is pacing back and forth, as is Wobbuffet, though I think he's only doing it because Jessie is. James is still seated with his hands folded in his lap and watching the two of them with a listless expression.

After a while, Jessie stomps her foot with a shout. "Meowth is fine now! Where is that fuzzy little twerp?"

As if in answer, the employee door opens, and we all whip around, hoping for Pikachu. Instead, Nurse Joy comes up to me and the gang with a face that screams "bad news." I brace myself for the worst.

"Pardon me," she says as she heads our way, "but you all are with Pikachu, correct?" We confirm this, and she kneels down. "Maybe one of you can help. We've told him more than once that Meowth is okay now, but he won't listen. Anyone who tries to pull him away just gets zapped. We've tried wearing rubber gloves, and even the one ground-type we have on staff, but he just uses Iron Tail and doesn't even stop while he's doing that. It seems he's bound and determined to keep the place powered until the electrician gets back."

Wobbles swears under her breath, echoing my thoughts. The trainers' and pokemon's whispering restarts, mixing with Eevee's fearful whine and Sprout's quiet, "Oh my goodness."

"Is that safe?" James asks. "For Pikachu, I mean."

Nurse Joy doesn't answer.

Jessie puts her fists on her hips. Wobbuffet copies her pose. "Bring me down there," Jessie demands. "I'll knock some sense into him."

"She will," Wobbuffet quips. "She's good at it."

Nurse Joy turns to her. "Are you a friend of Pikachu's?" Jessie frowns deeper and looks away. Wobbuffet just looks uncomfortable. "I think it would be better if someone he was familiar with spoke to him."

I step forward. "I'll go." The rest of the gang offers to come too, but I shoot them down. "The last thing we wanna do is crowd him."

No one looks happy, but Sprout says, "I guess you're right."

"You're volunteering?" Nurse Joy asks me. I nod, and she stands. "Alright. Follow me."

Nurse Joy leads me down the hall and to a door way in the back. Chansey is standing in front of it, using Heal Bell.

"Can he feel that from here?" I ask her.

Heal Bell dissipates, and Chansey sighs. "That was for me. I was trying to talk to him but got too close and ended up paralyzed." She then confirms that she's okay when Nurse Joy asks.

My stomach churns. What is going on in Pikachu's head today? It must have something to do with that April first that he and Sprout had been talking about this morning. Naturally, he wasn't himself after what happened with Hatterene, but he was an absolute wreck after he found that paper. I remember what Sprout told us about human culture, and I know that's a big part of the problem. Of all the things to inherit from your trainer, why did Pikachu have to get that?

Better than the things I could have gotten, I suppose. Maybe I'm one of the lucky ones, assuming the gang wasn't lying to me. I hope they would tell me if I was too harsh with them or something.

Nurse Joy opens the door to a flight of stairs going downward. The lights are on, and I wish they weren't. "Would you like me to come down with you?" she offers.

I shake my head. I know I can trust her, but I don't like the idea of being in an enclosed space with a human. Besides, I want to talk to Pikachu alone.

I'm about to descend when Chansey grabs my shoulder. "There's something I should mention," she says worriedly. "When I was leaving, I heard Pikachu say something that really bothered me."

"What was it?" I ask.

"He said, 'I can't screw this up.'"

I throw myself down the stairs.

The basement is a large space filled with shelves and boxes, but you'd have to be blind to not see Pikachu at the end of the room, facing away from me and toward a large metal thing that I think is called a generator. A panel is open on the front, and Pikachu has his hands latched on to something inside. He is surrounded by the yellow glow of Thunderbolt, and there is enough static in the air that my fur is lifting up even at this distance. Has he seriously not moved this whole time?

I approach carefully, every pawstep creating a pins-and-needles sensation. No wonder no one could get him to stop. It's hard enough just to get near him!

I get as close as I can without being shocked. "Pikachu, you need to stop," I plead. "At least take a break!"

"No," is all he says.

It's hard to see through the light, but there's a dark spot on the bandage Nurse Joy gave him. "If nothing else, let someone fix your ear properly." He doesn't answer. "Is this about Meowth? The surgery's over, Pikachu. Meowth is recovering. He's okay now. You can stop!"

His next words only scare me more. "Not until the electrician gets back."

His voice is breathy, tired. How much longer can he last? "What's April first, Pikachu?"

Suddenly, I'm knocked back by Thunderbolt, which was made even more powerful by just that one question. April first is that bad? My skin feels like it's been stabbed by a million needles, not at all helped by the static around me. My body is almost numb from the intensity, but I manage to climb to my feet. The light surrounding Pikachu is so bright that I have to squint and raise a paw to shield my eyes. "I know that's been bothering you, Pikachu. Whatever it is, we can talk about it. We care about you, Pikachu. Please, just stop doing this and let us help. Please."

Finally, Thunderbolt starts to dissipate, and the static becomes easier to bear. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. I've gotten through to him. Once Thunderbolt dies off completely, we are left in pitch-darkness. Luckily, my dark-typing gives me impeccable night vision. Pikachu stands there motionless, his hands still inside the generator. I expect him to tell me what April first is or apologize for scaring the crap out of us or even just stand there and cry.

I don't expect him to collapse.

"Pikachu!" I leap to his side. "Pikachu, get up!"

But, he just keeps laying there, on his back, looking for all the world as if he'd simply fallen asleep. I shake him, coat his face in licks, but nothing happens. That last blast must have been too much for him. Heart racing, I take him by the scruff and carry him upstairs as fast as possible, thankful that adrenaline has kicked in and removed the numbness in my legs.

Chansey and Nurse Joy are waiting for me, and throw their hands over their mouths at the sight of Pikachu. There's enough light coming in from the windows to see just how bad the situation is. I set him down, and they spring into action. Nurse Joy kneels down and presses a finger to Pikachu's red cheek, where his electricity is stored, and pulls back with a grimace. "He's used too much," she breathes, and my stomach drops.

His electricity. I knew this was coming the moment I went down there. "W-what do we do?" I ask, trying not to panic.

"If we had power…" Chansey trails off, scowling at the irony of her statement.

Nurse Joy hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin. "We don't have electric-type pokemon, but we do have pokemon with electric-type attacks. If we could hit him with those…"

"It would still cause damage," Chansey muses, "but he might soak up some of that energy."

"You get what I'm saying?" Nurse Joy asks us. We nod, and hope flares in my chest. Nurse Joy turns to me. "Do you know any electric-type moves?" I shake my head. "What about your friends?" I shake my head again and knead the floor restlessly. "That's okay. We have a pokemon on staff, and there may be more in the lobby." To Chansey, she says, "Get Granbull and meet us out there." Chansey takes off, and Nurse Joy gingerly takes Pikachu in her arms. "Come on, Absol."

We race down the hall. I throw myself against the door and burst into the lobby. "Does anyone know an electric-type move?" I ask the startled pokemon around me.

"Why do you ask?" Wobbles asks, her face pale and knowing.

I hear pounding footsteps and turn around to find Nurse Joy running into the lobby, Pikachu cradled in her arms. Commotion breaks out all around us, even among Team Rocket; Jessie and James are screaming and holding each other, and Wobbuffet has his hands over his mouth in shock. As for the gang: Eevee is crying, Wobbles looks ready to do the same, and Sprout is running in circles with her signature "oh my goodness" on repeat.

I force myself to remain the calm, sensible one. "It's okay. Nurse Joy has an idea."

At the same time, Nurse Joy also takes charge. "Everyone, listen to me!" The commotion stops. Everyone turns to her. Her large blue eyes are hard with determination. Whether she's faking or not, her confidence is a small comfort. "This Pikachu has spent the past six hours keeping this Pokemon Center functioning. He's used up his entire store of electricity, and if we don't do something right now, we're going to lose him."

The reality of the situation finally slams into me. Pikachu is always thinking of others. Wanting to help Gardevoir, helping us seek shelter from the rain, training with Sprout and Eevee. Those were fine, those were good.

But, it isn't always good. Pikachu offered those training sessions because he felt like a burden, and when they ended the ways they did, he felt that all over again. He befriended Hattrem because he resonated with her loneliness, but it ended not only with her losing her sanity, but also with permanent damage to his own body, not to mention the near-deaths of two others, leaving him feeling like a failure. Simply being in the wrong city made things worse. Finding out about April first - I still don't know what that is! - nearly broke him. He kept the power going, even after he knew Meowth was okay, because he "can't screw this up."

Which leads to the question: did he really do this because he's just that selfless...or is there something darker going on?

I shouldn't think that way. But, now that it's in my head, I can't think about anything else.

Chansey appears in the doorway, a Granbull not far behind, both of them sporting the same grim determination as Nurse Joy.

Nurse Joy nods at them then gently rests Pikachu on his back in the middle of the lobby. She takes a few steps back and addresses the crowd. "I know there are no electric-types here, but if any of your pokemon know electric-type attacks, I need them to aim those attacks at Pikachu. If I'm right, he should absorb the electricity from those attacks."

"And, if you're wrong?" someone asks.

Nurse Joy frowns deeper. "What difference would it make?" I hate the way she said that. "Granbull."

Granbull needs no further instruction. He holds out his massive paws as yellow bolts run over him and burst out in a Thunderbolt. The Togetic Wobbles had been talking to launches out Shock Wave after Shock Wave before his trainer can finish giving the command. Pikachu takes the hits with no reaction.

"Is there anyone else?" Nurse Joy asks. But, no other pokemon appear.

"Eevee, try Helping Hand," I command. "Maybe it'll help if you make their attacks stronger."

Eevee nods and jumps up and down, his body glowing white. A trainer sees this and calls out a Volbeat and Illumise, telling them to use the same move. Pokemon have as much awareness as they want to when inside a pokeball, and those two must have been paying attention. They don't even blink at the scene before them. They start up Helping Hand, and just as quickly, Granbull's and Togetic's attacks become stronger. But, Pikachu's still not moving.

"What if it's not enough?" Sprout breathes out.

"It has to be," Wobbles says, but I can tell she doesn't think it is.

All Pikachu wanted was to help others, to get back to his family. This isn't fair. Pikachu is a kind, thoughtful pokemon. He doesn't deserve to go out like this!

"Oh my goodness," Sprout exclaims suddenly, "look at Eevee!"

Eevee has stopped jumping around. He is still glowing, but with an iridescent shimmer that seems to be every color at once before settling on yellow. He is shaking all over, the fur on his face is matted by tears, yet he shoots lightning at Pikachu like he's been using Thunderbolt his whole life.

"Did-did he just learn Thunderbolt?" I ask, stunned by the sight of it.

"No," Wobbles corrects in amazement, "he learned Copycat!"

A move that lets you copy another pokemon's attack. Talk about timing!

A trainer points to Eevee. "Hey, that Eevee's using Copycat!"

Nurse Joy's eyes light up. "Of course! Chansey."

"On it," Chansey responds, starting up her own Copycat and copying Thunderbolt as well.

Someone nearby tells a Sudowoodo to use Mimic, resulting in the rock-type using yet another Thunderbolt. That makes five pokemon using electric-type attacks. Counting Volbeat and Illumise, who double-up their efforts, that's seven pokemon putting all their strength into saving Pikachu.

But, I realize, it's not just the pokemon. Every human in the room, Team Rocket included, is cheering on the pokemon and screaming for Pikachu, a pokemon most of them don't even know, to wake up. The cynical side of me thinks that it's only because of Pikachu's selfless act. Good behavior gets rewarded, after all.

But, could there be more to it? I know that not all humans treat pokemon badly, but I'm starting to wonder…could some of them care?

Pokemon care about their trainers. Could some trainers care about their pokemon? Jessie and James's behavior today, now that I think about it, seems to suggest so.

More importantly…did Pikachu's remaining ear just twitch?

"I think it's working," Nurse Joy exclaims. So, I didn't imagine it! She raises her fist in the air. "Full power, everyone!"

Granbull, Togetic, Sudowoodo, Chansey, and, of course, Eevee throw out as much power as they can. Volbeat and Illumise jump around even faster in their own efforts. All that lightning combined with the dual Helping Hand's makes it almost impossible to see Pikachu. Soon enough, the hum of electricity and the bug-types' cheers are the only sounds in the room.

Then, Pikachu moves. Just a little. Just enough that Nurse Joy calls off the attacks. Once the lightning is gone and the room is dark but for the light outside, she slowly walks up to Pikachu, kneels down, and presses a finger to his cheek. She jerks back with a yelp. "I got a spark," she breathes out in relief. "He's going to make it." She smiles at the crowd with misty eyes. "Thanks to all of you, he's going to make it!"

Cheers erupt around the room, and my legs give out from under me. Pikachu's going to be okay. Thank Arceus, he'll live.

"Alright, Eevee!" Wobbles shouts beside me.

Sprout whoops with joy. "Eevee learned a new move!"

Suddenly, a small brown head is in my face. Eevee's deep brown eyes are sparkling with joy, his tail waving excitedly behind him. If this little fluff ball hadn't learned Copycat, perhaps no one would have thought to use those types of attacks. There's a lump in my throat as pride overwhelms me, and all I can do is lick his soft head. He nuzzles my neck, and Sprout and Wobbles jump on me, shrieking with glee.

Pikachu will live.

But, as the celebration dies off, something breaks through our happiness. Pikachu is more awake now, but something's wrong. As Nurse Joy takes him in her arms and rises to her feet, Pikachu starts clutching her clothes and crying softly.

Nurse Joy strokes his head with her thumb, smiling kindly at him. "He's delirious, but that's to be expected."

Delirious, he may be, but if she could understand the words within the sobs, she would be a little more concerned.

"I'm sorry, Ashton," Pikachu weeps. "I'm sorry. I tried my best. I failed, Ashton. I'm sorry."

The humans are oblivious, but all the pokemon are staring at him, most of them no doubt wondering who Ashton is. It's safe to say that the gang, Wobbuffet, and I all have a pretty good idea.

Nurse Joy, as clueless as the other humans, says to the crowd, "I don't know how to thank you all for this."

"Personally," Jessie says, still holding on to James, "I think we're all thanking him." Everyone voices their agreement.

As Nurse Joy takes Pikachu to finally patch him up properly, Eevee turns to the rest of us, all his joy from before gone. "Why is Pikachu sad? What does duh-lee-ree-us mean?"

"It's what happens when someone gets really sick," Wobbles explains. "Or, in this case, runs out of electricity and then gets a bunch of it jammed back into him." She lifts her hand to the side of her head and moves her hand in a circle. "You get kind of loopy, but it wears off after a while."

"Is anyone else concerned, though?" Sprout asks. "I mean, I get him being out of it, but why was he apologizing to Ash?"

"With any luck, he really is just that out of it," I say, though I don't believe it any more than they do.

I know the kind of standards trainers have for their pokemon. I know what happens when those standards aren't met.

And, I fully plan on finding out what's going on in Pikachu's head.