“Spark,” she called, her voice getting louder as she came towards the door. They could never have the bed to themselves, just the humans- if it wasn’t her Castform, it was his Mawile.įuck. She always slept on her side, one leg slightly bent. It was the only time that spectacular, brilliant mind of hers ever stopped analyzing situations, searching for new information. She always looked so peaceful when she slept. ![]() “Yeah? Someone at the door? Okay.” More noises, maybe putting on slippers or a robe. “Brrpbrrr.” Little paws padding back and forth. Maybe she’s not home! Maybe he can just break into her apartment and squat there until Team Rocket stops looking for him and the Pokemon he’s stolen from them, like a completely normal person! Wild hope, almost terror, leaps in his chest. Right? Chest tight, glasses blurry, he knocks on the door.įor a moment everything is quiet. I can’t go back… even if she hates me, she’ll help me keep Mew safe. ‘Promise you’ll get your flu shot next year, okay? I hope at least this experience has taught you something.’ And then microwaved some canned soup while he slept with Charizard- still Charmeleon then- curled up in a sweet little ball by his feet.)Īnd then… he’s standing outside her door. (The last time he felt this badly here, she teased him. ![]() Like, he’s breathing, but why isn’t he getting any air? He shielded the sleeping creature from a Koffing with his body, and now his lungs feel like he’s drowning in a dream. The way she always signs (signed?) things.Īrlo climbs the flights of stairs to Apartment 3A, stopping at each landing to muffle a round of coughs. That quirky jagged handwriting, as if she’s just dashed it off. Inside, her name is still on her mailbox. His fingers know the code automatically, without even looking. Instead of the buzzer, he uses the keypad. There’s a light on in the lobby, and a warm-looking LED fireplace. The apartment building he’s looking for is there. He probably looks ridiculous.īut I gave up my right to dignity when I grew so preoccupied with success, with proving my former friends wrong, that I became willing to hurt Pokemon to achieve my goals. One foot in front of the other, the rain soaking his hoodie and fogging his glasses, soaking through his formerly pristine standard-issue sneakers. Maybe Charizard is still strong enough to carry Mew to safety, even if he doesn’t make it. She manages to take out the grunt’s whole team, but she’s whimpering with exhaustion by the time she crisps the last Muk. When she looks to him, he nods, like: set that Zubat on fucking fire. Salamence is hypothermic, and Mawile’s unconscious. He only releases her to fight because there’s no one else. Now, after hours of fighting and running in the rainy winter weather, Charizard is battered and breathing heavily, her movements labored. “Ready to get out of here?”Ĭharizard had just made this low, contented sound deep in her chest, bumped her warm forehead against Arlo’s cold hand. “Hey, buddy,” he said, his fingers curling around the bars. Arlo approached the cage tentatively, ready for a fire blast directed his way. But tonight there had been nothing left to lose. He’d always gone by the cage as fast as possible, ignoring his friend’s despairing, uncomprehending roars. Charizard will be your test subject instead.” “I don’t want you using a pokemon trained by Candela in the field. When he joined, Giovanni split the two of them up. ![]() He would never have made it this far without Charizard. “Of course! I wanted the reward all to myself,” she says with a giggle. He can’t let the woman see how worn down he is, how worn down his team is. “Hey, Arlo! I’m coiled and ready to strike!”įuck. Better get moving, he thinks, and forces himself to trudge onward.Ī pink-haired figure moves in the shadows at the end of the street. His battle-ready team currently consists of a Charizard, a Mawile, and…” Anyone who can capture Arlo and return him to headquarters will receive a substantial reward. “Leader Arlo has turned against our glorious, beloved boss! He is currently making his way through the city with stolen experiments and data. “Attention all team GO ROCKET members,” a tinny announcement comes through the Radar on his belt. The world lurches, and he leans against the alley wall to steady himself. For a moment he’s not quite sure where his feet are. The bricks beneath his sneakers are slick with rain. Its skin is smooth and downy, like a hairless cat. “It’s fine,” he whispers to the fragile-looking pink creature in his arms, stifling a cough. It’s fine that Pokemon are being tortured, because it’ll make them stronger and more effective- they’ll follow lab protocol better next time, they’ll use anesthetic next time, it’s fine-īut now he has someone to comfort besides himself. Professor Willow wouldn’t fund my research, so it’s fine that Team Rocket is asking me to help steal my funding. He’s been telling himself that for the past several years.
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