9 - Change

"What happened?"

I shook my head, trying to regain my senses.

I remember… bits and pieces. Giovanni shouting, cursing, and screaming hysterically. Ethan and Lyra struggling over broken wreckage to find me. A guy, in combat uniform, grappling with me. The ship tilting at a crazy angle. Noise, noise, lots of noise, and then the world went silent and bright, like a flash-bang grenade going off.

"You're awake."

Lyra sat at the bedside.

"Huh? Where am I?"

"Carmine."

"Where's that?"

"It's a tiny navy port. We're near Pallet. This is a hospital."

"Oh, great."

I hate hospitals.

"Care to explain?"

"Of course! But you need to get better first. Try some orange juice."

I was thirsty. With everything blurry and too bright, it was an awkward few seconds before my mouth found the straw and began slurping.

"It's not bad."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Was I injured?"

"Yes, and no. No gashes or broken bones or anything like that."

"Huh."

I'm still in a daze. She's right, I should just go back to sleep.

"Hey Silver."

"Huh?"

"That was amazing, the way you risked your life like that. You're a good person."

"Don't say that-" I drifted back to sleep.

The next time I saw her was when I was cleared to leave the hospital. A marine officer came and filled me in on the details, but only after grilling me for hours about what I knew, what role I played, and how my version of events unfolded. It took several tries before he convinced me I wasn't under arrest; it was that kind of interrogation.

The black flash I had experienced was an explosion. Giovanni, in his madness, had detonated the bomb. He had been bluffing all along, of course. Team Rocket didn't have the resources or foresight to plant a bomb under Celadon's Game Corner. The explosive had been in the cargo hold of the ship the whole time, and when it went off, it blew half the ship up and sunk the rest in a matter of minutes.

"What happened to my father… I mean Giovanni?" I demanded.

"Unknown. We couldn't find him."

"So… dead."

"Possibly. When we combed through the wreckage, we noticed one of the submersibles was missing from its docking, and couldn't be found anywhere in the debris field. There's a chance he escaped in it."

"…dang."

I and everyone else would have drowned if not for the ridiculously brave heroics of marine rescuers. The man made a special point of describing the fire-and-water hellscape the jumpers had dove into in order to grab us and swim us to a safe distance. Despite the officer's obvious trumpeting of his comrades, I felt sincerely impressed by their efforts, and grateful too.

After the fact, I reflected on it.

Gratefulness- to be alive.

That's a new feeling. Or rather, a long-lost feeling, come back after so much hardship I had forgotten it existed.

The doctors explained that my prolonged illness (three weeks of nausea, headaches, muscle seizures, and anemia) was the result of stuffing myself inside a device designed to digitize Pokémon. Not a brilliant idea as regards to my long term health, but it worked.

I smiled.

Despite the severity of the situation, I really enjoyed seeing my Pokémon working together like that. It made me feel like we were more than a team- we were family. Brothers in arms, as the military guys like to put it.

This thought made me realize they hadn't returned my Pokémon. I asked, and the only answer I was given was that they were safe and in somebody else's custody. When they finally let me go, without fanfare or guidance or my Pokemon, I was in a rather grouchy mood.

"Hey!"

Lyra waved to me from the street curb outside the base.

"Pest," I murmured.

Typical of her- she skipped up to a way-too-close-to-my-face distance and tortured me with an extreme close-up of her brimming smile.

"Guess what?"

"What?"

She held up my open wallet, with ID in clear-plastic sleeve.

"Today's your birthday."

I swatted her away, taking her stupid hat off with the motion. She went chasing after the thing, which, due to the strong wind coming off the ocean, wasn't a simple task.

"That's a fake ID, not my real birthday. Dummy."

"Really? Does that mean Silver isn't your real name?!"

My eyes. They could melt holes through Jupiter right now.

"Whah… what… what… did you… honestly… HONESTLY… think someone would name their kid after a precious metal?!" I spouted.

"Well, I don't know. Ethan's last name means "gold" in the old language, so it kind of made sense to me…" Her cheeks are turning roses.

"You're unbelievable."

She's a one-of-kind ditz is what she is. Gar! Why didn't I take Cyndaquil? I deserve that broke-mon way more than her!

"So what is your real name?" Lyra asked.

"Richard. But don't call me that."

"Why? It's kind of ordinary, nothing to really be proud of or hate, just a good, normal name." She shrugged. "Nothing to get upset over."

"Don't you know what Richard is shortened to?"

"Rich? Richie? Rick?" she guessed in rapid-fire fashion.

"Dick."

"Oh, that's weird…" she caught my scowl, got the hint, and for once, shut up.

"Hey, Dick, wanna suck mine? Dicks! Dicks! I got eleven Dicks for ya! Dicky-boy! Who wants dicks, Dickbrain!" I mimed in mocking, bitter tone of voice. "Ten years of that crap, from every kid in school, my teachers, my so-called friends, the Rocket grunts- once, even my father, and he gave me that name! I can't stand it."

Lyra's expression softened. As if she's fawning.

"I get it. That's fine. I like Silver better, anyways. It's kind of exotic and suits your personality."

I tried imagining what the personified element of Ag would act like, and failed.

"So did you come to just annoy me, or did you have a purpose being here?"

"Do I really need a purpose? You're my friend! I want to make sure you're safe and happy!"

"I'm your rival."

"Of course! That too. Rivals should always stick up for one another, to make sure no one else beats them first! I'm the only one allowed to defeat you!"

"You're not serious?"

"No, of course not. I'm not that clueless."

She stuck out her hands, both of them. I cringed, thinking she was about to engage a tickling attack to my midriff. Instead, she gestured over and over again. I dared a glance, and found Pokeballs being offered up to me.

"My Pokémon."

"Yep!"

"Thank you." I took them, pawed them one by one.

"Feraligatr," I said, summoning my first and mightiest. He looked gruff and bored, and the barest sign that he had missed his trainer was given: a gentle whack on the leg with his tail. Heh. I would expect nothing less from the brute.

"Wait, I count seven here."

"Right. About that…" Lyra glanced behind her.

A second figure, who had hung back and out of sight, now strode up to us.

Lance, in his full Dragon Master regalia.

"Lance… sir."

"Silver." He nodded towards me. Without another word, he stuck his hand out to me. I gawked at it for a moment, sensed the adult's stern impatience, and so shook it.

"You did a great service to humanity and the Kanto region. I'm glad I was right in giving you a chance."

"Thanks. I guess."

"You don't seem happy."

"It's just, I don't think I've proved it yet. You know, what you told me back at Mahogany base. To be a good person and a good trainer."

"So you say." Lance checked his wrist watch. "I don't have a lot of time, Brach and his cronies are expecting me at Indigo Plateau. So let's get to the point." He pointed to the seventh, unidentified pokeball in my collection. "Release it."

I obeyed.

"TARRRR!"

I stepped back, in near horror.

Tyranitar.

My heart raced.

The Pokémon saw Feraligatr, huffed, and paced to the other side of me. Otherwise, though, it wasn't very threatening.

"Is this really it?"

"Yes. This is your father's Tyranitar."

I frowned. What is it doing here? Lance saw my expression and guessed its meaning.

"You are going to be its new trainer."

"Me? No way. It needs to be locked away. It's a monster."

Lance smacked me across the cheek, although not hard; just enough to get my attention.

"Wasn't it you who pleaded for Feraligatr's life? Wasn't it you who professed that trainers are responsible for the character of their Pokémon? Don't blame this creature for the warped ambitions of that being who sired you. You don't have to be an emotional slave to that madman, and neither does this unfortunate creature. Our biologists have done the best they can to undo the genetic modifications. This Tyranitar will never again be capable of "Ultra-evolving"; and thank the gods, too; that was an abomination against nature."

I nodded in agreement.

Tyranitar wouldn't look at me when I turned to size it up. Walking around the great big monster (big as in the ordinary "big" of the giant mountain Pokémon species, not the kaiju-sized titan we fought on the ship), and I saw a lot of power, a lack of discipline, and a certain amount of shame in the way it avoided direct eye contact. This was going to be a long, hard project, getting him in shape.

"It… he… has a name, apparently." Lance held up a digital notepad. "Lancaster." The notepad let out a holographic field. It swept over me and then chimed. "You are now officially registered as its owner."

"I'll do my best."

"You'd better."

He began to leave us, but strangely, was headed into the navy base, not back the way he'd come.

"Where're you going?" I asked.

"There's a prisoner I have to meet. He's agreed to cooperate with us by identifying the Rocket networks. I'm going to offer a leniency deal in exchange."

"Do you mean Proton?"

"Proton? Oh, yes, I believe that is what he calls himself. Farewell."

"Hey, hey, Lancaster! That's a cool name! Why not nickname all of our Pokémon?" Lyra suggested.

"No."

"Like Brutus! Feraligatr the brutal Brutus! See, he likes it! Hey, I know! Do you wanna trade? They built a brand new Pokecenter at Pallet! I have a Gligar… he doesn't get along with my other Pokémon. Too temperamental. I think he'd go great with you."

I was about to protest, but on reflection, I palmed another Pokeball of mine.

Kadabra was kind of a sociopath. Not the bad kind, really. But of all my Pokémon, he'd taken my early bullying and internalized it. Perhaps too much. The Pokémon might not know the meaning of joy, or empathy, or love. Maybe it'll be better if he spends time with an all-loving goofball like her.

"How do you feel about an Alakazam?" I mused.

"Alakazam? I'd love one!"

"Lyra! Lyra! Silver!"

Ethan appeared beside a taxi, waving us over.

"That's our ride. Let's go."

This silly girl in her stupid hat and carefree, unbearably optimistic attitude grabbed me by the hand and dashed forward, dragging me with her.

"Wait! I don't think all my Pokémon can fit in that car!" I yelped.

It would remiss to say I healed, then and there.

Most nights, I stay up late, rolling over and over in whatever constituted my bed at the time. I see the same blurred image of a man walking out the door, after a long night where he and my mother shouted and shouted till the rafters rattled with their mutual anger and despise. I feel like I'm permanently camping in the middle of a dark, dangerous wood, with a menacing pair of eyes flitting between the trees. Not knowing when or where the monster, the real man-shaped monster, will someday come back to get me. Agonizing and aggravating my memory, trying to rectify the ideal I had formed about my mother with the reality of who she was and how she thought of me.

No day comes easy.

But it comes.

And every passing of the sun, it gets more bearable.

The little things don't bother me much anymore. I learned to joke. Ethan tells me I have a great sense of humor, if wry and a little dark. My time spent amidst Team Rocket members was a good source for that kind of comedy. Lyra laughs, and then excitedly tries to challenge me to battles with absurd rules, like, "Triple battle, and we both have a baby Azurill, and you have to keep the Azurill on the field for the whole fight, and the first to KO the baby wins!"

I met with Professor Elm. I didn't really want to offer to return Brutus back to him. But I did, because it was the right thing to do. Luckily, he saw Brutus' loyalty and affection towards me, and decided against splitting us up. I thanked him for it.

We met some of Lyra and Ethan's old traveling companions. A famous trio from Pallet, calling themselves Green, Blue, and Red- what's with the color-coded names? Are their parents hippies? Those can't be their real names! And besides, that's my gig! Okay, ranting aside, Blue and Green turned out to be pretty cool, but the Red fellow was kind of distant. I tried battling him… bad idea.

If Lyra's Typhlosion is a freak of nature, this guy had a whole team of freaks.

0-5.

KOing one of his overpowered pieces of *beepbeep* was cold comfort in the face of the overall dismantling I had to suffer through.

But I digress.

Things change.

People change.

I've changed. In the past year, I've learned, literally, everything there was about being a trainer, and being a decent human being. I'm not saying I'm perfect, but if I was allowed to gloat a little bit, I'd say no human on this planet has made as big a swing from evil to good as I have. I guess that makes me proud. Okay, at least, when I look into Brutus' eyes, and Lancaster's eyes, and see how readily these once-vicious killers now respect me, and feel so benevolent towards others, and I know I was a big part in that change of attitude, it makes me feel like my pride is justified.

I'm no diamond in the rough. Everything that is good about me, wasn't there at the start. It had to be created, slowly, agonizingly, by some invisible process of alchemy. I don't understand what magic it took for me to realize what was important in life. I do realize that I'm not done changing- I'm merely a hunk of silver, not yet gold, not even refined or shaped into something "beautiful". But the possibility is there. All thanks to something that's been acting upon me, ever since I stumbled into a goofball wearing stockings and overalls and a toadstool-shaped hat. Something I think is called "love".

What next, then?

Well, fortunately, that's not too hard to figure out, although it'll be mind-numbingly hard to figure out how to go about doing it.

"Hey, who is this?"

"You would have been my daddy."

"The hell?"

"It's a joke. This is Silver."

"Silver? Silver?! Damn. What are calling me for?"

"You just got off house arrest, didn't you? I need your help."

"Help? With what?"

"Finding what's left of Team Rocket. Taking them over. Turning them into something worthwhile. Finding my father, and bringing him to justice. And mainly…"

I grit my teeth.

"Your lover and my mother- We're going to find Ariana."

The End

Thank you for reading Transmutation. I hope you enjoyed the story, and I welcome all comments, criticisms, and praise. You can message me here if you have any questions or just want to talk.