This is an idea that I've had brewing in the back of my head for months! It'll start out a little slow, but the story will get better after a few chapters! I have to establish the plot, after all!
Pokemon and all subsequent copyrights are property of Nintendo. Any and all original characters belong to me, and that's a fact! Also, this is purely a work of fiction, so any similarity to real persons or events is entirely coincidence. Please Enjoy!
The world was a much simpler place back then.
I...understand that things should be clearer than they are now...and yet, I am unable to put the pieces back together. It's like...a crude puzzle that is seemingly impossible to solve.
Yeah, that's a good analogy.
Like a puzzle with missing pieces.
Maybe I need only to examine these pieces once more. I still believe that I will be able to make sense of this if I try to remember everything that transpired. At the very least, I have to make certain that I have gathered all of the facts.
I have to make sure that this is really happening.
I have to make sure that I exist.
----From the journal of Dr. Jonathan Silverstone, Pokemon Geneticist
The sound of fingernails tapping on wood shook him from his thoughts, echoing through the room steadily, like a somber heartbeat. He slowly opened his eyes, staring aimlessly into the darkness before focusing on the only light sources he could make out: a small lamp and a laptop computer which sat on a wooden desk on the opposite side of the room.
Tomas' eyes drifted from the open laptop on the desk to the lady sitting in front of it, and he fought to swallow the building lump in his throat. She just sat there, studying the computer screen and feigning interest in whatever was displayed. However, Tomas knew better, and so he remained in the shadows at the far corner of the room, pretending to be deep in thought.
In truth, despite everything that he'd been though, Tomas had been given plenty of time to think before this. And still, after all that time, he couldn't come up with even a partially plausible explanation. He had racked his brain time and time again in search of an answer, struggling to decipher truth from all the lies, contemplating the very impossibility of his situation, until he got a headache from thinking so much. So for now, he just sat there in the darkness, staring at nothing in particular, thinking of nothing in particular, and enjoying the peace of mind.
Even while only playing at deep thought, it still took him several minutes to notice her staring at him. Or trying to, at least. She couldn't see in the dark, and could just barely make out a rough silhouette while squinting. Still, even that was more than enough to pique her interest about her latest "subject."
She peered into the darkness at the far corner of the room, straining to make out Tomas' shadowed form, hunched over in what she could only assume was silent reflection. It was fairly obvious that he wasn't going to be the first to speak up. In fact, if not for the occasional sound of shuffling coming from the darkness, she may have even thought that he had simply fallen asleep.
She quickened the pace of her nails tapping on the desk, hoping to wake him up. When he remained unresponsive, she spun her seat in his direction and crossed her arms, finally letting out an impatient sigh.
"So, Tom? What's it going to be?" she asked, gesturing towards the laptop, "Are you going to do this today, or not?"
Tomas remained silent, looking away from her scrutinizing gaze. Even when he wasn't staring right at her, he could still almost feel her watching him, studying him like he was her latest science project fresh off the Petri dish. He had come to despise that look. It made his decision even harder, painfully obvious as it was.
He shuffled uncomfortably in his dark little corner, earnestly wishing that he could just remain within the comforting grasp of those shadows. Of course, he knew that there was no choice in the matter. People needed to know what happened. And if things...ended unfavorably, then this would be his one and only chance to tell the story.
In other words, he had no other option but to swallow his pride and move on. He fought back the rising lump in his throat again, and sat up. "Okay," he muttered under his breath, "I'll do it."
"What's that?" the lady teased, hand cupped over an ear, "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of paint peeling on the wall! Speak up, please."
"I said I'll do it!" Tomas choked out, "You don't have to act like that!"
"And why not?" she replied with a caustic chuckle, "I seem to remember someone who acted just like that not too long ago. Tell me, just how many years ago was it that I met you?"
She heard a derisive snort from the darkness.
"Very funny, Wiles," Tomas retorted, "I'm glad that at least somebody here is having a good time at my expense."
The woman smiled and pulled open a small drawer to her wooden desk. "Much better, Tom. Sarcasm suits you better than self pity. Now, we can get started...but first, I need you to come a little closer."
"You heard me. Come into the light." She motioned for him to come closer with one hand, and then turned the knob on the desk lamp with the other. In an instant, the dark room was flooded with a bright light, chasing away the clutching shadows that Tomas had taken refuge in. The woman blinked several times, rubbed her eyes, and then scanned the room for her newest subject. It wouldn't be very difficult to spot him. There weren't a lot of places in the room where he could actually hide.
So it didn't take her but a few seconds to notice the small Umbreon crouched on the floor in the far corner of the room, shielding its eyes with a paw.
"Hey, that's too bright!" it cried out, turning away from her, "You should warn me next time!"
"I apologize, Tom," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Now, if you don't mind..."
Tomas stood up on dark-furred paws and slowly padded his way across the room. Until now, he hadn't realized just how stark and dilapidated this room actually was. Aside from the wooden desk and chair, and a single sleeping bag, the room seemed to be completely empty. Well, unless he counted the dust piles and cobwebs, and maybe that huge hole in the wall big enough for a Rattata to crawl through. In fact, a Rattata probably made it.
The floorboards creaked under his weight as he trotted over to the desk, head down-turned and cheeks burning in embarrassment. It wasn't the first time the he'd felt the weight of other people's judging eyes, and he knew that it probably wouldn't be the last.
Still, it had been a while since he had felt quite so...vulnerable and open. Maybe it was because of the story that he had to tell. Or maybe it was because Dr. Wiles actually knew him before...
He sat down on the floor next to her seat and looked away with a huff, feeling his cheeks burn again. Dr. Wiles produced a clipboard and pen from the drawer, and then glanced down at Tomas before turning her gaze to the computer, smiling triumphantly.
"I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You look cute."
"Let's just get this over with," he muttered, distractedly pulling at a tuft of black fur on the tip of his tail with a paw, "if you don't mind."
"Okay, then," she said, holding the clipboard up, "Full name, age, species, and place of birth, please."
Tomas looked down at his paws, and sighed. "My name is Tomas Rowan, I'm 28 years old, and I was born in Mossdeep City, in the Honen region."
Dr. Wiles took notes on her clipboard in silence, and the sound of pencil scratching on paper echoed through the unfurnished room for several seconds before stopping abruptly. Tomas was busying himself pulling at that tuft of fur on his tail when he heard her clearing her throat.
"You're really going to make me ask the question again, aren't you?"
"Species? You didn't answer that part."
"Well, I thought it was obvious," Tomas said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I mean, I kind of look like an Umbreon, so I figured that it--"
"No, that's not what I meant," she replied flatly, "I meant, what species do you think you are?"
The Pokemon fell silent.
"I mean, sure, you look like an Umbreon, but everything about you suggests different. Your posture, the way you act and talk, it's not something a normal Pokemon would do."
Tomas wrinkled his muzzle at the doctor. Why is she making this so difficult? Does she enjoy making him suffer like this?
What did he ever do to deserve this treatment?
Oh...right. Damn it all.
"You're playing with me, aren't you?" the Umbreon muttered, shooting a bitter look at the Doctor before turning away again. "I'm not an idiot, Wiles. I can tell when someone is mocking me."
"This is being recorded on my laptop," she replied, running her fingers through dirty blond hair, "in case you didn't realize. I need you to tell me yourself, as part of my scientific data. It's a requirement. Now, start over."
Tomas fought down the urge to throw another sarcastic remark her way, and took a deep breath. It had to be done, even if he didn't like it. Especially if he didn't like it.
"My name is Tomas Rowan, I'm 28 years old, and I was born in Mossdeep City, in the Honen region."
He took in another deep breath before continuing.
"And I am, or used to be, a human."
"Good," Dr. Wiles said, crossing her arms again, "Thank you. I realize that it couldn't have been easy to talk about that, especially after everything you've been though."
Tomas stared blankly at her. Wait, was that sympathy? Real, genuine sympathy?
Maybe she's not so cold and unfeeling after all...
That meager show of emotion didn't last long, and Dr. Wiles was back to business as usual in seconds. She had returned to her laptop, busy typing something. Tomas couldn't see what she was doing from his less-than-advantageous view on the floor, and it only made him nervous. He hated not knowing what was happening, especially when it involved other people's opinions of him!
The next few minutes went by without a word. Tomas wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence and calm his nerves. And he was just about speak when Dr. Wiles beat him to it.
"Okay, it's time."
Tomas looked up into her bright, curious eyes, gleaming with an interest that scared him far more than he ever dared to admit. She leaned closer in her seat, hands on her thighs, and smiled.
"Now, tell me everything that happened."