White Roses

Summary: Those attacks on the St. Anne that night weren't as innocent as they seemed.

Rating: T

Notes: :(

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

White Roses

"...get it? That's all you have to do. Here, everyone take a sucker."

I snorted a little under my breath at the name of the machine, and strapped it onto my back. It felt a little heavy, and I didn't quite feel comfortable without the red R on my shirt, but I could handle it. After all, I was a grunt of the prestigious Team Rocket.

As I put on some disgustingly bland waiter clothes, I glanced over at Asher. Er, I mean, 20-CA. He looked back, an eager gleam in his eyes. Before I can even wave, he scurried over to me.

"Are you ready, Evan? This is our first assignment together! I'm so excited."

I quickly pressed down on his cap, shushing him. "I told you not to use my real name! Just because we're related doesn't mean you can go against the rules. I'm 54-CE here. Okay?"

He pouted. "Fine. Are you ready then, 54-CE?"

"Yes, I'm ready." I rolled my eyes and the group began to move towards the central hall.

Ashe...20-CA wasn't wrong – it was the first time we had been put on the same mission. I'm sure the boss has a reason for not putting brothers in the same group, but I couldn't really figure it out. Ah, well. For the most part, my little brother (I'm 2 years older, thank you very much) has been out of my hair.

A few moments ago, a B-class team – Jessie, James, and Meowth – had given us our instructions. It wasn't anything hard; we simply had to board the S.S. Anne (which was nice – free food!) and steal some kids' Pokemon. With the help of our 'suckers', apparently.

Regardless, this task would be one of the easiest since we joined the organization. And 20-CA and I have been here since we were 10 and 12, respectively. Our parents had both been killed in an odd but connecting way: Mother had been bitten by a Golbat and fell victim to poison, and Father's fishing boat was pulled under by a Seadra.

How are these connected?

Pokemon.

Ever since they claimed my parents' lives, I hadn't been fond of them – I wouldn't say I hated them, but I certainly didn't love them. Back then, my brother had dreams of being a Pokemon Trainer, but I always tore them up.

And then, exactly one year after living alone, some Rocket executives kidnapped us. I still don't know why – because of our family's wealth, I assume for some kind of random money – but they soon figured out that no one would come to save us.

Deciding we were worthless, the Rockets tried to release us, but Giovanni had other plans. He invited us into his organization. Two kids...! Yet, I wasn't the least bit suspicious. Guess I still had some naivete at age 12. Whatever.

Anyway, both of us were excited to join. We were separated almost immediately, and didn't see each other for a few more years. Again, it was probably standard procedure, but I still don't understand.

Since the beginning of our Rocket career, we have lost most of our youthfulness - 20-CA especially. He used to be an energetic kid, and while he can joke around from time to time, I fear this organization took his innocence away.

"...CE! 54-CE! Hey! ...EVAN!"

A grumbling voice snapped me out of my thoughts. My brother was waving his hands in front of my face. I smacked his arms away and hissed, "20-CA! How many times must I tell you that is against-"

He shook his head. "You're all about rules. I was going to say that Jessie and James told us to begin. They'll give us a signal, so we need to get into position!"

I nodded, determination swimming through my veins. "Let's do it, then."

The two of us wandered the central hall for about 15 minutes, asking Pokemon Trainers if they wanted their drinks refilled, or other waiter-y things like that. It was humiliating, but they didn't know what was coming.

And, sure enough, the gesture was given shortly. The doors slammed shut, causing confused murmurs among the crowd. After giving a nod to my cohorts, everyone ripped their disguises off. Some even got lost in the moment and jumped up on the tables.

As we stood menacingly in the hall, Jessie and James cut the lights. After saying their silly motto, Jessie cried out, "Team Rocket will now take possession of your Pokemon!"

Everyone turned on their machines, and Poke Balls flew through the air, into our 'suckers'.

As we worked, the Trainers were nothing short of frenzied. Some ran and hid (I don't blame them – Team Rocket is extremely intimidating), some froze up and cowered where they stood.

Both 20-CA and I were busy 'sucking them up' (as Meowth put it). However, I did witness one Grunt asking a group of kids for their Pokemon. The shortest one, a boy with a red and white baseball cap, took a defensive stance and glared towards the Rocket.

I remember him from dinner; I had invited him and his friends to the buffet. His name, Ash, stuck out in my memory solely due to the similarity to my brother's.

He didn't seem to like Rockets, however, and cried out, "PIKACHUUUUU!"

Initially, I thought it was a silly thing to do. That boy thinks he's a Pokemon? Only when I saw his yellow rat leap towards my colleague did I realize how wrong I was. The Pokemon shot out yellow energy, sending it through the Grunt's body mercilessly. His body smoking, he collapsed to the ground.

"If they're gonna try and rob our Pokemon, we might as well make it a battle!"

At those powerful words, the rest of the crowd suddenly gained courage. A man who was shaking in fear a second ago composed himself, and cried out, "Yeah! We can't just surrender!"

"Let's fight back!"

"Yeah!"

The Pokemon Trainers were agitated, and all because this kid decided to start a revolution? Well, regardless, what could he do? What could any of them do? We were Team Rocket.

Of course, with their newly found balls (Poke Balls...), the crowd sent their Pokemon out. Jessie was still confident, screaming something like, "Suck them up! Suck them all up!"

In a flash, dozens of Pokemon appeared – more so than I'd ever seen. Pidgey, Caterpie, Staryu, Geodude, Rattata, Oddish, Weepinbell, Butterfree, Squirtle...

"We've gotta fight them together!" Someone cried out, and the baseball-capped kid sent out his Pikachu again. The mouse charged forward, and gathered with all the other Pikachu on the ship. They formed a pyramid, evil smirks on their otherwise cute faces.

We all glanced at each other, suddenly realizing that these people posed a threat. I saw my brother swallow hard, his legs shaking a bit.

The Pikachu sent out a large shot of electricity, all aimed towards a particular group of Rockets. Thankfully, my brother and I were far enough away to avoid any harm.

They had nowhere to run. I closed my eyes and looked away.

I only heard their screams – there was no way I could watch. Hatred for Pokemon filled my heart and my fists were clenched tight. I imagine the pain caused by those creatures being equivalent to that of being thrown into a pit of fire.

When the Thundershocks stopped, Ash sent out another Pokemon.

"Charmander, I choose you!"

I lifted my head, and saw another terrifying triangle of Pokemon – this time, little orange lizards. I used to think they weren't much of a threat, but the fire they sent out of their mouths proved me wrong.

This time, their attacks were aimed towards my corner of the room.

"CHARMAAAANDERRRRR!"

Perhaps I had exaggerated at the power of electricity. At that moment, I knew that being electrocuted wasn't like being thrown into a pit of fire – being burned alive was like being thrown into a pit of fire. Sure, the burning flesh stench in the room made me sick, and watching pieces of my own skin being torn apart and falling off did terrify me, but I was afraid for my brother above everything else. Was he going through this, too?

I did hear some more screams of pain and terror echoing the room, but none of them sounded familiar. My vision was going black, but I fought to keep conscious. As the flames ripped through my charred body, I was sent back into a wall.

But I wasn't about to give up. What kind of Rocket would I be, anyway? I struggled to my feet, ignoring the blood seeping off my body, and limped forward. A gentleman stood in my way and, with a smirk, sent out a Butterfree. The rest of the bug Pokemon soared above me and a couple more Grunts, sending down a terrible spore.

Within seconds, I couldn't will my body to move normally. My legs collapsed from under me, and I shook violently and uncontrollably. Terrified, I closed my eyes, screamed, and willed for the Stun Spore attack to cease.

"Pidgeotto! Group Gust!"

Before my eyes, a flock of the Flying Pokemon grouped and swirled together into a devastating cyclone, lifting all of us above the ground. The airless feeling would've been comfortable, had my body not been thrust around like a doll. After the wind ceased, we flopped to the ground lifelessly.

But of course, the Trainers weren't finished. That same brat stood up proudly and cried, "Pikachu! All together – THUNDERBOLT!"

...crap.

The electricity shot through the air like the fangs of a Gyrados, and bit down even harder. And I thought my body was twitching before...! The currents made me twist in unimaginable ways, all while having that burning feeling return. Everything, down to the tips of my fingers, felt like it was being stretched and pulled apart, molecule by molecule.

And then, suddenly, it was over. The pain ceased, if only for a brief moment. Though my world went black, I could feel my body being thrust into the sky. Horrified, I tried to open my eyes, or move even, but found that I couldn't. Almost as if my consciousness was bound with a metaphorical blindfold. My vocal chords, at that point, were raw from screaming.

I felt as if I was weightless – like I could just float away into the night sky. The feeling only lasted a few seconds, however, as I plummeted down soon after. The cold air bit into my skin, and my stomach churned with terror and uneasiness.

Before I realized how long I was falling, a frozen wetness engulfed my body. My eyes instantly shot open, and I found myself underwater. I fought with all my strength to resurface, and grabbed a couple gulps of air. I noticed then that my right leg was twisted in an awkward angle; it was nearly covered by the black fabric of my pants, save for a ripped spot that revealed the pinkish bone.

Calm down. Find 20-CA. Now. I had nearly forgotten about my brother in the attack, but prayed to all the gods out there that he was okay. That one hope was the only cause of my pathetic doggy paddling through the ocean, all while trying to keep my broken leg from snapping off.

"20-CA!" I rasped out, recognizing how tired my voice sounded. But there was no time to rest, and death waited for those who dared to.

As I limped along, I discovered a couple of bodies, floating face-down in the water. Paddling up to them, I tried to shake them awake.

"Hey! You can't sleep here! You'll die!" I cried, and turned them over. However, that may have not been the best decision; the conditions of their bodies made me physically ill.

There were two of them – one male and one female. The male was staring straight up into nothingness, as if he was still awake, and had bruises decorating his body like stars in the sky. His chest was puffed out a little too much, indicating that a couple ribs were broken, and blood trickled from his mouth.

The female didn't look any better. Her eyes were closed, but half of her face was burned away. Red flesh deeply contrasted her pale skin, some parts even revealing pieces of her skull and teeth. Her body wasn't pretty, either; her torso was badly scarred and burned, as well, as if it had been on fire for weeks.

Sadly, I looked away. It was obvious that these two were long gone. I kept swimming (or whatever you wanted to call it) forward, intent on finding my brother.

I passed more Rockets, but didn't bother to check. The puddles of blood and burned-away skin were good enough clues to their deaths, and doing anything would waste the time I had left.

In the back of my consciousness, I could feel myself fading. Maybe it was the cracked leg bone, maybe it was the burn wounds, maybe it was the fleeting paralyzing effect. Who could tell, really? I'd have to get a copy of that autopsy report.

A few minutes after the Rocket bodies stopped appearing, I started to get cold. It was around midnight (my guess), and I was in an ocean. Now I know how those Titanic guys felt.

A low grunting noise sounded nearby. I scanned my surroundings and saw yet another Rocket. However, I didn't remember seeing this one. And...if I was correct, and that noise came from him, he must've been alive! I paddled over to him, ignoring the numbness shooting through my body, and flipped him over.

My heart nearly stopped.

"20-CA..."

He was shivering in my arms, and whispering nonsense. I smacked his cheek lightly, trying to keep him conscious. His eyes lit up faintly at the sight of me, and he kept muttering.

His body was cut up in multiple places, including a large gash spreading from one shoulder to the other. His uniform was falling apart in some areas, showing his frozen skin underneath.

Needless to say, his blood was turning the water red.

And yet, despite everything, his face still kept its innocent charm. His mouth were drawn in a small grin, and his eyes, while glazed with exhaustion, still had youthful qualities in them.

It wasn't long before those eyes started to close.

"Hey. Hey! 20-CA! Don't...don't die. Stay awake. Hey! 20-CA! 20-CA!"

He did show signs of recognizing my pleas, but it didn't seem to be enough to save him. I smacked him harder now, and wrapped my arms around his body. It felt like ice – and that's not an exaggeration. I seriously felt like I was hugging a bag of ice.

"Listen, 20-CA...don't go dying on me. You need to stay alive. I...I don't think I can live without you. Come on, 20-CA...20-CA!"

Being so close, I could feel his heartbeat. It was fading, and fast. I felt tears slip out of my eyes and fall onto his body; by some half-alive logic, I hoped the warmth in the tears would be enough to keep him alive.

"20-CA! 20-CA!"

I sighed and took a deep breath, pulling my brother closer to me. We hadn't hugged, or even shook hands, in so long, I had almost forgotten what family love was. More than anything, I wanted him to wake up. I wanted him to open his eyes, smirk at me, and tell me he was just kidding. I'd smack him, sure, but I would be so relieved.

But of course, fantasies are always far from realities. His pulse was almost non-existent now. I still didn't want to let him go; he would just sink into the water at this point.

"20-CA...20-CA!...Asher...!"

Though he was nearly gone, Asher's lips curled into a smile at the mention of his real name. "Finally..." he breathed, and exhaled deeply.

I waited. And waited. But he didn't breathe again.

Closing my eyes, I let out an anguished cry. I had never released such emotions before, but hardly cared anymore.

Orange sunlight glittered over the horizon, and sparkled off my body. Sure enough, the first instances of day were appearing; the sun was rising, birds began to chirp...even the sea felt warmer.

Figures... I thought with a sad smile. This happens after everyone's gone.

I take one last look at my brother. He looks...oddly peaceful. I guess that's how everyone looks in death (yes, even Rocket Grunts, apparently). I hugged him once more and let him go; it doesn't take long for him to sink slowly into the ocean.

"Bye, Asher..." I whispered.

After he disappeared into the darkness, I felt my body freeze. Slowly, the numbness present in my right leg travelled to the left, and then up my torso, all the way to the top of my head. I tried to move my limbs, but found them bound by the cold. If I couldn't move, I was going to die.

But who would care, really? Giovanni, the executives, even the other Grunts...would they honestly give a damn if we died here? Asher and the others are gone, and soon I will be, as well. Will we be remembered? Will anyone care?

"-had had their promising careers cut tragically short..."

Before I could plunge underwater, a woman's voice sounded. She was nearby, it sounded like. I scanned my surroundings and found a large boat a few yards away. I wanted to scream to them, asking for help, but then I discovered who the woman was. Officer Jenny wouldn't bother to help me, or even if she did, I would go straight to jail. Of all the potential rescuers to appear...

But wait. What was she talking about? Careers cut tragically short? Were they talking about us? That was the only conclusion I could reach; after all, we were the only ones thrown off the ship.

"May these flowers honor your memory."

She threw a bouquet of flowers into the ocean. They were white roses...

Were they seriously...for us Rockets?

I couldn't help but smile. Maybe someone would remember us, after all.

My body decided then to shut down and begin to sink. I inhaled as much air as I could, and felt myself go under. The murky water appeared to bottomless; as if, when I fall into the depths, I would never hit nor feel the bottom. It wasn't long before the air I grabbed so greedily before had run out. I fought to surface again, but I was only kidding myself. My body refused to move, even an inch. I saw the top of the water grow farther and farther away, and all hope left me.

Before I slipped unconscious, however, an object smacked into my body. The roses...! The bouquet had reached me, after all. Though I didn't like her, I hope Officer Jenny realized that her gift had reached its recipient. My arms shifted slightly to wrap around the delicate flowers, cradling them to my chest.

And as I breathed my last, I heard a beautiful melody of Taps playing. For us.