A/N: I've been looking at the reviews lately and well…let's just say that a certain "sect" of requestors are going to find this chapter to their liking. At least, I hope they do. Lucky for them, too, since this chapter was the next one to write on my schedule.

Now, let's get going with "Chapter 11: A Blast from the Past".

Previously, on PokéLoud Journeys…

Lincoln, Clyde, and Ronnie Anne treaded the long path of Route 4, aiming to reach Lumiose City in a matter of days. Once the trio took a break, Ronnie Anne pulled Lincoln off to the side and finally revealed her intentions to him; to school him in a Pokémon battle and correct his weaknesses as a Trainer. Before the battle could commence, however, a young boy, a fellow Pokémon Trainer named Chandler, interjected, having overheard Ronnie Anne and Lincoln's conversation and most importantly, how Lincoln had won the coveted Bug Badge a few days prior. Wanting to battle a Trainer worthy of his time, the arrogant Chandler challenged Lincoln to a one-on-one battle between one of his Pokémon and the Pokémon that Lincoln had used to single-handedly defeat Bobby's team. Determined to prove himself and shut Chandler's mouth for good, Lincoln accepted his terms and thanks to a game of chance, Fennekin's adversary wound up being a bruised but battle-ready Pancham.

The ensuing battle came as a surprise to Lincoln, who expected Fennekin to bulldoze over the Playful Pokémon with ease. Pancham proved to be more than able to hold his own; countering, dodging, and even blocking the heaviest-hitting moves of Fennekin's arsenal while dishing out his own brand of punishment that left the Fox Pokémon dazed. Before Pancham could finish Fennekin off, Lincoln's quick thinking and Fennekin's power ensnared Pancham in the fiery vortex of Fire Spin, followed up by a mighty Flame Charge that brought the spirited Pancham down…

At least, for a moment. Shock and dread overcame Lincoln as Pancham slowly but surely rose to his feet, shrugging off the pain to continue the battle. With that, it was curtains for Fennekin as Pancham countered another Flame Charge with an Arm Thrust attack, followed up by a Circle Throw, and then, a flurry of Comet Punches that knocked Fennekin out for good.

Lincoln, anguished from the defeat, was inconsolable for the rest of the day, tending to Fennekin's wounds while wallowing in self-pity. Knowing that his failure disappointed Ronnie Anne, he attempted to try and reconcile with her but she had none of it. Rebuking Lincoln for being a weak Trainer and for failing to defend the Santalune City Gym's honor, Lincoln was left even more desolate than ever before. It's anyone's guess as to how, or even if, Lincoln will get over his melancholy…

CHAPTER 11: A Blast from the Past

Route 4. July 5th, 2036. 11:21 AM.

"Thanks for finally agreeing to go fishing, Lincoln. Sandwiches, chips, and instant ramen are fine and all but nothing beats a hearty meal of some fish!"

Their packed, hastily-made provisions were all that Lincoln, Clyde, and Ronnie Anne were inclined to eat without Lincoln's will to fish. Up until now, the boy was far too focused on playing the role of Fennekin's nurse than fishing.

Oh, and feeling sorry for himself certainly didn't coax his actions any further from moping around inside of his tent all day long. Besides walking further along Route 4 to set up camp, treading through the forest, side-by-side with Clyde and with his fishing pole and backpack on standby, was about as much activity as Lincoln would even entertain in engaging in.

Accompanying the two boys was Froakie, who sat upon Clyde's right shoulder dutifully. Ordinarily, either Fennekin or Herdier would be the designated fishing Pokémon but this time around, Clyde wanted Froakie to have a crack at helping with the fishing for a change. Though the Bubble Frog Pokémon was reluctant to leave the campsite, on account of wanting to stay behind and observe Fennekin while she healed, he obeyed Clyde, nonetheless.

When Clyde's chipper declaration drew nothing more than a weary sigh from Lincoln, he asked, "Everything alright, buddy?"

"Kinda," Lincoln said, ducking under a tree branch while maneuvering his shoulder-slung fishing pole through the weave of foliage. "I'm glad Fennekin's feeling better. I just think she needs one more day of rest before she can get back on her feet."

Clyde gave his friend a look of skepticism. "I dunno, Lincoln. She looked fine enough to me yesterday."

With yet another sigh from Lincoln, there was another chance for Clyde to assume to worse. This wasn't the first time Lincoln felt sorry for himself and it wasn't hard to see why he was so down in the dumps this time around. He had been awake that night, the night where Ronnie Anne chewed Lincoln out for being a weak Trainer. On top of that, he had never remembered Lincoln looking more miserable than when he had to change Fennekin out of her old bandages for new ones; every wrap must've felt like a stab to the gut, a painful reminder of where Lincoln's inability to win had landed for both of them.

He wasn't even in "Trainer mood" anymore; he was adorned in his classic orange T-shirt/blue jeans combo, no hat, no tracksuit, and no Pokéball belt at all.

But even so, there was only so much that Clyde could stand if it meant that Lincoln was thinking of heading down a path of no return. He just had to know he wasn't that invested in his misery to do the unthinkable, to do the unforgivable.

"I hope you're not thinking of quitting on the Lumiose Conference just because you lost one battle," Clyde said, frowning sternly. "I know it's rough on you and Fennekin but you can't let one slip up mess you up."

His face brightened when Lincoln flinched back in indignation. Good. At least that meant he had some semblance of pride left.

"No way," Lincoln said. "After everything that's happened, I can't give up. Even if I didn't include Fennekin in the equation, my family and the Professor either want me to succeed as far as I can as a Trainer, depend on me not quitting, or both."

The embers of determination fizzled out as quickly as they came and Lincoln drooped, his steps becoming heavy enough to draw him back a pace behind Clyde, who watched him concernedly.

"I just don't know how to continue, Clyde. You've been helping me train for around a month now and it helped me beat Bobby. Now, that's not enough to beat someone with a tired Pokémon? I just…" He cast his vision towards his feet as they shuffled across the brittle twigs that snapped underneath his shoes. "Is this all I have? Was Ronnie Anne right? Am I really just a kid who got lucky?"

Clyde gave a little jab to Lincoln shoulder to get him to look at him. An earnest smile rewarded his venturing eyes.

"Well, now that she's completely out of earshot, I can give you my honest opinion without fear of getting punched." Just to be sure, he gave his surroundings a quick 360°. "Absolutely not. Look, I get why she's mad at you but you can't let her psyche you out. She doesn't have a clue about how awesome you are. When you battled Bobby, she may have seen a fluke but from where I was standing, I saw a future Kalos League Champion."

Though it was but a flicker of a smile, that bloomed on Lincoln's face, Clyde still appreciated it.

"Thanks, Clyde," Lincoln said. But then, his mood immediately sunk lower as his thoughts drifted to an unpleasant realization. "Though, I still don't have any idea about what I'm supposed to do for Fennekin's training. She'll be ready to go as soon as tomorrow and I've got nothing to go on. What moves do I teach her? What strategies should I use? Heck, I'd just like to know where things went wrong with Chandler. If only Ronnie Anne wasn't mad at me. She sounded like she was ready to give me a few pointers the other day. That could've really helped."

Before Clyde could reassure Lincoln of his abilities, Lincoln added, his face etched with a puzzled expression, "Speaking of Ronnie Anne, why's she still hanging around with us? I figured she'd just pack her stuff and leave by now."

"Beats me," Clyde said, shrugging the shoulder that Froakie wasn't perched on. "But, I bet if you catch something really good for her, you can use that as a form of apology."

Humoring the suggestion in frivolity, Lincoln turned to Froakie. "What'd you think, Froakie?"

"Kie," Froakied replied, shaking his head.

Despite the bad place his answer put him in, Lincoln couldn't help but chuckle at Froakie's bluntness. "Yeah, you're probably right."

The walk through the forest ensued with silence after that. Thankfully, the closest suitable fishing lake wasn't too far away. In about a few minutes, they'd be there; a huge, crystal-blue lake that sat at the base of a large mountain. Their current campsite was close enough to a river to be suitable as a means for fresh water and for clothes cleaning but since no Pokémon resided in it, the lake was the next-closest spot.

But, just before Lincoln, Clyde, and Froakie could pass through a waist-high thicket of bushes, a curious noise halted their steps; a distant cry that resembled desperation.

"Did you hear something?" Clyde asked.

Lincoln nodded. "Yeah."

Once more, the cry echoed through the expanse, stirring a smidge of uneasiness within them. Whatever it was, it was just beyond those bushes.

"There it is again," Clyde said, speaking lower.

"It sounds like a Pokémon." Lincoln paused, contemplating the reason behind the wail. "Crying out for…help?"

"Yeah, I think you're right, Lincoln. I think we should check it out. Agreed?"

As if Lincoln needed to be reminded of the agonizing howl, it sounded off again. His baser instincts told him to either flee or walk around the source of the noise but with Clyde's suggestion, a call to action, in play, how could he refuse? Besides, there couldn't be any real harm of simply seeing what it was for themselves, right?

"Yeah."

As quietly and cautiously as possible, the boys slipped through the bushes ahead of them, taking breaks to gingerly untether themselves and Lincoln's fishing pole from any branches that snagged onto their clothes. The trek proved to be difficult, especially for Clyde, who had to hold onto Froakie close to his chest to ensure that he wouldn't get poked at by the bushy appendages but in the end, the friends found themselves peering through the bushes from the other side, looking on at the origin of the unsettling disturbance.

Just a few feet away was indeed, a Pokémon. The quadrupedal Pokémon, like Lincoln and Clyde, was in the bushes. However, unlike Lincoln and Clyde, it was an unwilling, distressed captive in the thick of the green, it's left horn snagged. Despite its best efforts, grunting, tugging, and bleating with the best of them, it remained ensnared.

"I think that's a Skiddo," Clyde whispered to Lincoln. "You got your Pokédex with you, right?"

Nodding, Lincoln shimmied awkwardly through the bush twigs to reach back, unzip his backpack, and retrieve his Pokédex. Switching it on, Lincoln made sure to turn the volume completely down before he scanned, not wanting the voice to spook the Skiddo into more of a frenzy than it already was. Instead of hearing the computerized voice, Lincoln and Clyde just looked at the screen for the abridged version of the Pokédex entry that they'd normally be hearing:

"Skiddo, the Mount Pokémon. This species is known for its mild temperament and for the widespread opinion of it being one of the first Pokémon to interact with humans. It creates its own sustenance under the exposure of water and sunlight.

This Skiddo is a Male."

"It looks like he's caught in that bush," Lincoln whispered, shifting the Pokédex into his pocket. "And look at his leg, Clyde."

Clyde followed where Lincoln was pointing, the Skiddo's left hind leg. A dried-up trail of blood was encrusted in the appendage, emblazened from the meat of the thigh down to the knee. It was clear to the both of them; this Skiddo was injured, an impairment that only made its attempts at freedom even more futile than they first thought.

"Yeah, no wonder he can't get out," Clyde replied just as quietly. "He must be trying to call for help."

"Well, we're here now," Lincoln said. "What should we do? Should I try and go free him?"

"No, not yet." Clyde turned to Lincoln with a hardened look. "From Recruit to Ranger says that if you want to help a wild, injured Pokémon, you should never do it straight away. You have to take in the situation, consider all of your options, and carefully analyze the-"

Before Clyde could get a word out, Froakie wiggled free from Clyde and leaped out the bush, hopping towards the Skiddo.

"Froakie!" Clyde whisper-shouted, frantically waving for him to return but not avail.

Instead of heeding Clyde's caution, it appeared that Froakie was compelled to talk things out with the Skiddo instead. Hopping up to him, Froakie waved and croaked a few times to get his attention. Stunned, Lincoln and Clyde watched as Froakie conversed with the Mount Pokémon, a smattering of "Kie's", "Fro's", and "Froakie's" that neither of the boys could quite understand. By the end of his monologue, Froakie had pointed to where Lincoln and Clyde were hiding. He then turned his attention to his Trainer.

"Kie!" Froakie chirped and waved over to where he was standing.

"Er, thanks, Froakie," Lincoln said, perturbed that the Skiddo had them in their sights now. He looked to He cast a glance to Clyde and asked, "What'd you think he said to him?"

Clyde rubbed his chin in scruntiny for a few seconds before a thought came to him.

"I think he just wanted him to know that we're here to help," Clyde said. "Lincoln, you didn't happen to pack any Potions with you, did you?"

"I think I've got three of 'em," Lincoln said, recalling the medication that he tucked away in his backpack in case of an emergency.

"Okay, just give me a second to look over Skiddo's Pokédex entry."

Handing the device off to Clyde, he allowed him to read whatever information the Pokédex would bequeath to him. Besides the information that the Pokédex said or displayed at a first scan, there was all sorts of data; height, weight, diet, abilities, moves, and other miscellaneous facts. Apparently, Clyde's harrumph indicated that he hadn't found anything useful to aid them.

"Nothing vital," Clyde said, giving the Pokédex back to Lincoln. "Let's just try to calmly approach him and spray him with some Potion, okay?"

Nodding, Lincoln slowly began to move out the bush, approaching with attentiveness to any signs of possible aggression from the Skiddo. Clyde followed him out, retrieving a Potion from Lincoln's backpack while Lincoln set his fishing rod down. Tiptoeing as carefully as possible, Lincoln and Clyde did their best not to frighten the poor creature, both for their sakes and for the Skiddo's.

"Relax. We're here to help you," Lincoln whispered.

"Just take it easy, friend," Clyde murmured.

Lincoln didn't know how Clyde was handling the matter but as for him, he didn't once try to break away from Skiddo's soft, anxious eyes. However he could, he wanted him to know that he wasn't here to cause harm.

Finally, the boys were in front of their soon-to-be patient, ready to get to work. While Lincoln knelt on the ground, looking up directly into Skiddo's eyes, Clyde cautiously bent down to tend to the injured leg, the Potion in his hands and ready to spray.

"It's okay," Lincoln whispered again, watching in his peripheral vision as Clyde pulled down on the nozzle, releasing a burst of clouded medication onto the wound where the blood began.

The stinging sensation made the Skiddo jump, thrashing about wildly.

"Skiiiiiid!" the Mount Pokémon cried.

"Woah!" Lincoln shouted as he scooted back a good two feet away.

"So much for mild temperaments!" Clyde exclaimed, quickly pulling out Froakie's Pokéball from his pocket and returning him back inside before the Skiddo could accidentally kick him.

The sting must've abated to be enough to handle as the Skiddo, still anxious but no longer in utter panic, panted and wobbled as he tried to catch his breath.

Knowing that they were at an impasse, Lincoln was spurred into action as he repossessed his Pokédex, switched it on, and shifted though the blocks of data that came up from Skiddo's entry.

'There's gotta be something here that…' Lincoln's frown broke into a smile when he spotted a certain line that he traced over with his finger. 'That's it!'

Quickly springing into action, Lincoln hurried over to the Skiddo, not wasting time to reassure his friend of his safety after he shouted, "Lincoln, hold on!"

Before the Skiddo could have time to react, Lincoln tenderly gripped its horns with both hands. Like the Pokédex alluded to, immediately, the horns began to glow a light green in a flash.

And just like that, the Skiddo was mollified, no longer having his face etched in anxiety but rather, in as much contentment as his current predicament could allow. Lincoln giggled as the Skiddo nuzzled its face into his belly, bleating his name with cheerfulness in his voice.

"See, Skiddo? We're not trying to hurt you," Lincoln said. "The Potion just stings a bit but you'll be feeling better before you know it."

Clyde, who had no earthly idea, was spellbound by the spectacle. Though, he wasn't in awe enough to not have questions of his own.

"What just happened?"

Lincoln chuckled. "Apparently, Skiddo can read the feelings of anyone who grabs its horns. He probably calmed down because he knows I'm not trying to harm him." He smirked playfully at Clyde as he raised an eyebrow. "I guess you missed that part when you looked over the Pokédex entry."

Clyde grinned sheepishly and blushed. "I guess even Rangers-in-training can overlook important details."

With the Skiddo calmed, Lincoln and Clyde were able to tend to the wound far better than before. Even though the Skiddo fidgeted from the sting that the Potion gave him, thanks to Lincoln's horn grabbing, Skiddo was reassured that the boys were only here to help him. They even had the forethought to use their water-filled canteen and clean the blood off, making his leg look almost as good as new.

"There we go," Clyde said as he inspected the leg once more. "It's not the perfect patch-up job but I think he should be able to move on his own."

"Great," Lincoln said as he went to pick up his fishing pole. "Now, let's move on to our fishing spot."

"Sounds like a…" Clyde stopped as he observed a sight that made him laugh. "Hey, Lincoln? Look behind you."

Bent down, Lincoln looked over his shoulder and sure enough, there was the Skiddo, looking back at him with a smile on his face.

"Skid!" the Skiddo bleated.

Though Lincoln could tell the Skiddo was clearly happy with himself, he couldn't help but ask, "Something wrong, Skiddo?"

"I don't think anything's wrong, Lincoln" Clyde said, highly amused. "I just think that he wants to follow you."

Lincoln turned around to get a better look, wanting to make sure that Skiddo was truly feeling what Clyde had suggested. A span of ten seconds passed before Lincoln spoke up.

"Is that right, Skiddo? You wanna follow me?"

"Skiiiiiiiid!"

Out of all the things that Lincoln thought the Skiddo would want to do, this wasn't one of them. He figured the Skiddo, now a free Pokémon once more, would simply return to wherever it was he came from.

But, if Skiddo simply wanted to follow them (well, him more specifically), he supposed there couldn't be any real harm. Of course, he'd have to protect from any possible threats that they could fish up but he was sure that Froakie could handle the job just fine.

"I guess it's not a problem," Lincoln told the Skiddo, who let out another elated bleat while the boy picked up his fishing rod. He gave his attention back to Clyde. "Hey, Clyde, once we're done fishing, we should probably look over Skiddo to make sure he's completely healed. In the meantime, he can get food with all the sunlight and the water from the lake we're going to."

Clyde gave the plan a thumbs-up and with that, there was only one thing left to do.

"Then let's get fishing!" Lincoln cried as he and Clyde, along with the Skiddo, ventured further into the forest towards the lake.

Had they stuck around any further to mind their surroundings better, they would've noticed a certain pony-tailed girl, watching from a close but hidden distance behind a large tree.

"Hmph. Not like I care what he does," she said with a huff, as if she needed to validate her snooping to anyone in particular.

And so, two boys, a Froakie, and their newest tagalong fished the morning and early afternoon away, hauling in a bountiful catch of three red-striped Basculin (though Lincoln was somewhat disappointed that his more preferred variant wasn't reeled in instead).

But while the friends bond by the lake, an impatient…"officer" awaits the arrival of his superior. Though, he'd prefer it if he not be reminded of such a humiliating fact…

?. July 5th, 2036. 1:00 PM.

'Where is the damn fool?! He holds such a lucrative position and yet he can't even pretend to act as if it matters!'

It just wasn't fair. He was better than this. This was grunt's work, labor for a meager foot solider with no prestige to his name.

'I'm Leon, the Advisor, second-in-command for our glorious boss, not some babysitter! Why must I be the one to constantly reel him in whenever he decides to wander off?'

He really, really didn't need this today. Or any day, really. Stationed inside the underground watchtower while his own personal team of spies and informants, his resources, were wasted on that…that…pompous upstart!

The man ran a white-gloved hand through his scruffy black hair, angrily tussling the strands. His only solace in this humiliating job was that this time, he knew he screwed up. There was no way that the boss was going to tolerate this level of insubordination. Ever since his unworthy promotion, he had foolishly decided to test his boundaries, taking "little trips" out of the base to mix and mingle with the outside world haplessly, a venture that he knew would tick the boss off.

Oh, and Leon. Especially Leon, since he had to waste away in this chamber, the beeping of computers, the cold stainless white floor, and the binocular visual of the immediate surroundings of the base, displayed on a large screen in front of where he was sitting, to supplement the search for "his majesty", a fitting name since as far as Leon could remember, he had always been a royal pain in the ass.

But, not even personal indignation could temper Leon's anger more than an even more unfortunate consequence of this brazen behavior.

'At this rate, our entire operation will crumble, all because he has to stretch his legs. Antonio is far too generous with him.'

He, of course, never said as much to his face. Even though as the Advisor, he had to give his best intentions to his superior, questioning a decision as far as his personal selection of his replacement was sure to land him in hot water.

But how long could he be silent? How long could he endure the anxiety of not knowing whether or not he would doom them all?

Another tussle of hair and another heavy groan accompanied the mechanical stirring around him. With nothing left to do but sit back and wait for an agent to report back to him.

Meanwhile, back at their campsite, Lincoln is bustling about, making sure that Skiddo is taken care of. After a belly full of fish, the boy is pumped full of the energy needed to restore his newest tagalong. Fennekin, however, didn't get the memo…

Route 4. July 5th, 2036. 1:39 PM.

"Kin?"

"Fenne?"

"Kiiiiiiin?"

Those were but a few of the questions that a tent-ridden Fennekin was able to ask Lincoln as he shuffled in and out the tent, retrieving medical supplies for reasons that he had yet to explain to her. She had no idea what was going on or why her Trainer seemed to be so preoccupied. All she knew was that one moment, she heard her Trainer and that other boy returning and the next, here he was, not seeming to give her any mind at all. Honestly, it didn't sit right with her at all. Sure, she was essentially at 100% now but did that mean that she had to be ignored like this?

Once more, Lincoln returned inside, going off to the corner to grab himself a new gauze wrap. Fortunately, Skiddo didn't need that much attention but that didn't mean that he was going to get the bare minimum treatment he deserved. Before he could leave, he felt something tug at his pants leg.

Without having to turn around and see what it was, Lincoln said, "Sorry, Fennekin, just give me a second, okay? I have to take care of Skiddo."

Fennekin titled her head at the name. Skiddo? Just what the heck was a Skiddo and what did that have to do with her getting ignored? Well, her Trainer was going to learn that she wasn't the kind of Pokémon to get brushed away! She'd show this Skiddo who was boss as soon as she…she…got finished munching on this twig that her gracious, wonderful, attentive Trainer just laid at her feet!

"Have a twig," Lincoln said after offering his gift, smiling at the way Fennekin wolfed down her treat.

Then, Lincoln was back on Clyde's side of the campsite, right where his friend and Skiddo were. Instead of tending to Skiddo's leg, Clyde was busy reading over Skiddo's Pokédex entry again. He only looked up once he saw Lincoln approaching from the corner of his eye.

Perfect. Now was the time to tell Lincoln what he had discovered about Skiddo and why it was so weird that they had just so happened to have found him.

"Say, Lincoln?" Clyde asked as Lincoln walked over to Skiddo to tape up his leg.

"Yeah, Clyde?" Lincoln replied, finishing up on the dressage.

"I think it's a little odd that Skiddo was left where we found him."

Lincoln snapped off the dressing when it was sufficiently tightened. "What'd you mean by that?" Lincoln asked, giving Skiddo a quick pet on the head.

"Well, Skiddo's usually live by the mountains. It's what it said in your Pokédex. I think the only reason he came down here was because he wanted some water from the lake. But why would Skiddo be on the other side of the lake, where we were coming from through the forest, rather than on the side of the lake closest to the mountains where he probably lives?"

Lincoln had to admit, that was rather strange.

"You know, that's actually a good point, Clyde." All he had to give was a loose, vague possibility that wasn't founded off of much guesswork. "Maybe he wandered off?"

"That's as good as a guess as any, I'd say," Clyde said as he gave Lincoln his Pokédex back.

While Lincoln put it back in his pocket, he addressed the Mount Pokémon.

"There you go, Skiddo? How's that feel?" Lincoln asked, giving his leg a little tap.

Getting what Lincoln was asking for, Skiddo gave that leg a few tentative kicks. Then, when that proved to be a painless effort, he braved a few stomps, grinding his hoof into the ground. Upon realizing that he felt completely fine, Skiddo leapt a few inches off the ground, happily bleating and giving Lincoln and Clyde the warm and fuzzies that only a pair of helpers could give.

Why, nothing could ruin this moment; Lincoln, Clyde, and Skiddo, all enjoying themselves under the golden Sun's ray and basking in the discovery of a successful healing. What could go wrong? Would possibly interfere with such a-

"Um, guys?!"

The shout spurred their attention in an instant, looking on as Ronnie Anne sprang out from behind the trees surrounding the clearing they were in, running towards them with a look that neither boy had seen on her face before; sheer panic.

Once Ronnie Anne closed the gap between them, pausing to gasp for air as she bent over to take in some air, Lincoln was more confused than perturbed at Ronnie Anne's behavior.

"Ronnie Anne?" Lincoln asked. "Where've you been all day? We haven't seen a trace of you since this morning."

Instead of a pleasant reply, he was yanked close to her by the collar, throttled around a little as she yelled in his face.

"Forget about that, stupid! We've got company!"

Pointing towards where she had just appeared from, she stopped shaking Lincoln in time for him to hear the sound of what he could only describe as a…mini stampede. His eyes widened when the encircling foliage shook before at last, four grassy blurs shot out. His eyes adjusted to the blurs when they all suddenly stopped in their tracks, about teen feet away from the trio and Skiddo.

Lincoln and Clyde took a few steps back, on guard from the intrusion that had just become clear. Four Pokémon, imposing in stature and disposition, glared at them; the one in the very front was the biggest and its curled horns, in Lincoln's opinion, the sturdiest and strongest out of the bunch. Though the boys had never seen them up close, they knew this Pokémon when they saw it.

"What are all these Gogoats doing here?" Clyde asked in a hushed voice.

"And why do they look like they wanna pummel us?" Lincoln supplemented in the same volume.

"Because they do!" Ronnie Anne snapped, pointing at Skiddo as he cowered behind Lincoln. "It's the Skiddo! They want him back!"

Lincoln gasped, having the daunting realization of this situation dawn on him all at once. The Skiddo, that he and Clyde had rescued, belonged with them. They must've tried looking for him after he had wandered off. Upon wandering through the forest on the other side of the lake, the Skiddo must've hurt himself navigating through the unfamiliar terrain and things only got worse when he got himself caught by the horn.

And now, these Gogoats thought that they had taken him. Not good; if they wanted to escape with their lives, they had to find a way out of this misunderstanding.

"You should've let him alone instead of letting him follow you back to the campsite," Ronnie Anne said, glaring at Lincoln disapprovingly.

Lincoln gave her an inquiring look in return. How did she know what he and Clyde were doing?

But as matters couldn't get any more convoluted, Lincoln heard the steady footsteps of a certain Pokémon coming up from behind him. He looked back and realized that it was indeed his Fennekin, rushing out to help her Trainer and friend-in-need.

"Fennekin, stay put!" Lincoln shouted, holding out a hand to stop her in her tracks.

He did not need Fennekin getting involved. Even at 100%, it was still four Gogoats against her. Even with Clyde's help, he didn't like the odds currently stacked against them.

Reluctantly, Fennekin halted but still looked on anxiously.

But before he could think of anything to go off of, Ronnie Anne suddenly stepped in front of the boys, reaching down in her pants pocket.

"Looks like I don't have much of a choice." She pulled out not one but two Pokéballs, clearly with her own Pokémon inside of them. "Stand back. I got this."

Lincoln panicked, reaching out to grab onto Ronnie Anne's shoulder before she could throw them.

"Don't!"

Ronnie Anne spluttered before anger incised her features. "What'd you mean 'don't'?! If we don't defend ourselves, they'll cream us!"

"They just want Skiddo back! They don't deserve to get hurt for that!"

Expecting another rebuttal, Lincoln was taken aback as after fifteen seconds of waiting for her next move, she relented and put the Pokéballs away.

Thankfully, in that time, the racing against the clock stirred an idea, a plan that he had no clue would work but it sounded way better than starting a fight.

"Let me handle this," Lincoln said as he walked cautiously forward, ignoring Skiddo's worried bleating, each one sounding like a plea for Lincoln to come to his senses and come back.

He drowned it out. He had to. He couldn't let the pleading coax him to reconsider, to shift loyalties to his own safety. He couldn't show an ounce of fear on his face, even as the Gogoat stared him down, looking like they wanted to tear into him as he took bold step after bold step forward. His pulse heightened as he allowed himself to swallow the lump in his throat.

'Just a little further.'

Thankfully, the other three were further away, with only their leader in the forefront of the formation. That suited Lincoln just find since it was the leader he needed approval from anyway.

And if that worked out for Skiddo, it surely had to work out for the Gogoat, right?

To his surprise, once he finally approached the Gogoat, the only sign of resistance it showed was the way it slightly bent its head down, looking like he was ready to charge point-blank. Now, practically face-to-face, Lincoln gulped as he reached out and grabbed the Gogoat's horns.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the horns glowed, much in the same way that the Skiddo's did. Once the color faded, he let go and waited for the Gogoat's response. At once, it turned its head towards the pack and bleated at them a few times, the last outcry softening their stances into a mellow, relaxed pose. With that, it turned its attention back to Lincoln, a smile spread across his face.

'Man, and I thought that would've turned out way worse,' Lincoln thought as he turned back towards his friends (well, friend and Ronnie Anne).

"Looks like we've reached an understanding," Lincoln said, flashing Clyde and Ronnie Anne a grin.

"And right in the nick of time, I'd say. Nice job, Lincoln," Clyde said in commemoration to his friend's bravery.

"Sure. Whatever," Ronnie Anne said, rolling her eyes.

Lincoln didn't have a chance to soak it all in, though, as out of what seemed to be the spur of the moment, Skiddo bounded towards him, his bandaged leg not hindering his paces.

"Huh?" Lincoln muttered as the Skiddo began circling around him, taking errant pauses to nuzzle his face into his belly.

Lincoln giggled from the ticklish contact but just like that, it all ended once Skiddo broke away to stand before the Gogoat. Once again, Lincoln was left in the dark of a Pokémon conversation as Skiddo bleated syllables of enthusiasm. Once he was finished, the leader Gogoat slowly walked up to him and once he was before the Mount Pokémon, gave it a few nudges towards Lincoln's direction.

The gesture only made Skiddo all the giddier and Lincoln all the more knowing to what was happening. He was much better at non-verbal communication of Pokémon and if the Gogoat and Skiddo were doing what he thought they were doing…

"Skiddo? Does this mean what I think it means?" Lincoln asked.

"Skiddo! Skiddo!"

Well, that was a "yes" if he ever heard one. Knowing exactly what he wanted to do, Lincoln called to Clyde, "Hey, Clyde! Get my Pokéball belt, would ya?!"

"On it!" Clyde said and hurried over to Lincoln's tent to retrieve it. While Clyde did that, Lincoln looked back at the Skiddo, who was still as happy as ever. Even though Lincoln was positive that he knew what this all meant, he just had to know if Skiddo was truly going to be happy with what he had chosen for his life.

"You sure you want to come along with me, Skiddo?" Lincoln asked, somberness overtaking the joy that once filled his voice.

Even now, he still felt a little inadequate as a Trainer. He didn't know what to do with Fennekin's training and if Skiddo was going to be a partner-in-crime along with them, he'd have to teach him how to battle and from the ground up, at that.

But even so, he had an inkling that if he got around to finding the answer, he most certainly found a treasure in Skiddo.

"Well, if you're gonna be anything like your parents, then I'm sure you'll grow up to be pretty strong," Lincoln said, looking back up at the Gogoat, just in time to watch time go back the way they came.

As soon as the last one left, Clyde returned with what Lincoln had asked for. Once he got the belt, Lincoln plucked off one of the five empty Pokéballs that remained on its hook, expanded it with the push of a button and lightly tapped it against Skiddo's head, capturing the Pokémon into the capsule through a read beam of light. Lincoln allowed the Pokéball to drop to the ground, knowing what came next; waiting for the shaking Pokéball to stop as it glowed and whirred on the ground.

Even with a willing Pokémon, it was still a tense situation for a Trainer that had never caught a Pokémon before. But, just as Lincoln was beginning to question if Skiddo had truly wanted for this to come to pass, the Pokéball stilled and dinged, signifying its capture.

Lincoln beamed, elated at his success. "You know, I didn't quite expect for my first capture to be like this."

As he picked up the Pokéball off the ground, he was just about to head back to his tent when he noticed Ronnie Anne walking past him, presumably to go back to where it was she was hiding out all this time.

"Wait, Ronnie Anne." The words slipped out before he could catch himself, his true desires winning over his trepidation.

By the grace of good fortune, she stopped, actually halted to consider the request of the boy she dubbed "Lame-O" and a pathetic Trainer. Lincoln, not wanting to squander his chance at appealing to the girl with unwarranted brazenness, didn't bother to walk around to look her in the eye.

"Look, I know you're still mad at me for letting you down. And…I'm sorry. I'm sorry I disappointed you. You're right; I've got so much to learn that it's not even funny. I don't have a clue about how I should train my Pokémon and I could really, really use your help."

In the midst of his groveling, Lincoln dropped to his knees, kowtowing with every shred of humbleness that had woven into him ever since Chandler's victory.

"Please, Ronnie Anne. I know that if you just give me a chance to prove myself, I can show you that I'm worth your time. I'll listen to whatever you have to say without question. Please, please, please take me under your wing."

Lincoln could do nothing know but wait, wait as each second of agonizing silence crawled by and taunted the boy for the blooming realization that Ronnie Anne just didn't have her heart into hearing him out, much less wasting her time on someone that she didn't even think had any potential.

But then, as if the darkness of his inner thoughts spurred out from his mind, a shadow loomed over him…a Ronnie Anne-shaped shadow.

Lincoln hastily looked up, finding the girl to staring down at him with her rams crossed and an eyebrow quirked.

"Good grief. You don't have to make it sound like a marriage proposal, you know," Ronnie Anne said.

Sighing, as if she had been strong-armed into a deal that she just had to accept, Ronnie Anne said, "Look, if you're gonna keep twisting my arm like that, then I guess have no choice but to train you." Astonishment and relief took over Lincoln as if to further lift his spirits, Ronnie Anne curled a tiny smile at him, not a sarcastic little smirk but an actual smile. "Besides, now that you've got two Pokémon, I can't just leave them in your inexperienced hands, can I?"

"Yes!" Lincoln shouted, compelled by instinct to outstretch his arms and lean towards Ronnie Anne for a hug.

Before he could dare cross a centimeter, her fist quickly came into play, halting its trajectory to his face by stopping it just short of his nose.

"Rule #1 of Ronnie Anne's Bootcamp: You hug me, I slug you. Got it?"

Lincoln nodded frightfully. "Yes, ma'am."

?. July 6th, 2036. 12: 57 AM.

At last, at long goddamn last, the Holo Caster rang, stirring Leon from the nap he had fallen into about three hours ago. He slurred as he tried to gain his bearings, blindly reach into his pocket for the noisy machine.

'This had better be good,' Leon thought as he noticed the caller ID, hoping that the caller was here to inform him of something useful

Pressing the call button, Leon held up the Holo Caster to his ear, not up to talking back to a Holo Graphic projection.

"Agent #215, I had better be receiving some good news," Leon said, punctuating with a surly growl. "I'd like to think I deserve some of that today."

"Most definitely, sir. I've just received contact from Julien, sir."

"Good. And what does our friend have to say for himself?"

"Um…" Leon frowned at the hesitant pause, "w-well…you see, sir…"

The deliberation, along with the frustration of having to stay cooped up in the room for over half a day, caused the Advisor to snap.

"Out with it, #215! Or do you wish to have me suggest to Antonio that you return to your busboy duties?!"

"No, no, no, sir! Anything but that, sir! I-I like my new position as one of your personal agents, sir!"

"Then what did he have to say to you?"

"He, uh, wanted me to send you a message, sir."

"A message? For me?" Leon leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "And he didn't have the courtesy to reach me himself?"

Not expecting a reply from that rhetorical question, he continued. "Typical. Fine, fine, what did he have to tell me?"

He could hear #215 mumbling something akin to, "Don't shoot the messenger" before he started. "He wanted me to let you know that, and I quote, 'Tell dat boot licker I ain't got time to hear his bitchin'. It'll take me out of the mood for da underground Houndour fightin' tournament that I'll just so happen to be swingin' by at tonight. I'll be back whenever I feel like it and if he's got a problem with it, let 'em know I ran out of damns ta give a long ti-'"

*thwack*

The Holo Caster clanked against the floor, cracking the screen and immediately shutting off the device before another word could be uttered. Leon, in a fit of rage, had chucked it hard.

"Underground Houndour fighting?! Again?! He'll pay for this! If Antonio doesn't do anything to stop him, then I don't care if I'm overstepping my duties as his Advisor; his little pet project will answer to me!"

By the end of his rant, the Advisor was a seething wreck of unbridled ire, heaving deep breaths to calm himself but finding little success. But now, instead of quelling his rage, he nurtured his hatred with a fantasy that fostered wicked delight.

"Just you wait, Julien," Leon said, a cackle bubbling through. "You keep testing our boss' faith in you with these ridiculous gambles."

Looking down at his Holo Caster, he picked up the chipped, fractured weight, running his thumb across the back…

…and along the giant blue "R" that engraved the surface.

"It'll be your downfall and at long last, Team Rocket's future will be ensured and Kalos will be ours!"

The underbelly of Kalos is far more sordid than anyone could've ever guessed! What lies in store for the region now that Team Rocket is under its nose? And how will the dissension between Julien and Leon play out? PokéLoud Journeys' oncoming chapters will tell all!

A/N: Yessir, we have Team Rocket in this story. I didn't know whether to create my own team or bring back an old favorite but in the end, Rocket was the way to go for me. Hope that doesn't disappoint any of you. If it does, oh well. You've come this far already. Why stop now? ;)