Pokémon and all related elements are © Nintendo/Creatures/Game Freak and The Pokémon Company.

All trademarks are trademarks of their respective holders. Duh.

Written by Evan H. Story by Evan and Jesse H. © 2003 All Rights Reserved.

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Author's Note: Well, this is the result of several Pokémon musings on my and my brother's part. This story is a sort of protest to the lack of plot in the video game and Saturday morning show, and as such is not canon to any established Pokémon universe. Major differences are as follows:

1) Psychic types are referred to as "Neural" types. Being "psychic" refers to being able to see the future, contact spirits, etc. which is an area I'd rather not get into. Neural types are typically telepathic (read minds, communicate using thoughts) and telekinetic (remotely move objects).

2) Ghost and Dark types... I haven't decided what to do with them. Think of them as grouped under the "Neural" heading for now, except their attacks and personalities tend to lean more towards the surreal side.

Finally... Please please PLEASE note that I stopped playing the games/watching the show before Gold/Silver came out, so for the first saga at least (this fic) the characters will not leave Kanto, and there will be no pokémon from Gold/Silver or Ruby/Sapphire except Umbreon Espion, and the Ho-Oh.

- Prologue -
 
"I'm sorry, sir," the desk clerk said, "but we have no tickets on hold for Jason Melville."

The eighteen-year-old boy nodded slowly and stepped out of line. He sat down in the nearest seat he could find, the weight of the clerk's words crushing down on him. He had planned to go to New York for a conference for aspiring authors, but the ticket he had been told was waiting for him apparently wasn't.

Slowly, Jason tried to grasp his situation. He was stranded at the airport with very little cash and nowhere to go. His parents wouldn't be at home for another two hours, and even that was earlier than the next bus. He thought about getting one of the snack bar's overpriced milkshakes, but the tension of his situation coupled with his nervousness of taking a trip alone had turned his stomach into another lump of lead to weigh him down. In a daze, he found a seat and sat down hard.

He had been planning for this trip ever since he had gotten the letter asking him to come. It sounded almost too good to be true, but they had called and sent mail, all saying that they had seen Jason's writings on his website and wanted him to attend this conference. They would pay for meals, rooms, and transportation. Jason had wanted everything to go smoothly, so he packed everything he would need into two bags: a duffel bag and a laptop case, both of which could be carried onto a plane without having to be stowed underneath the plane. He had his best poems, stories, and essays both on paper and on his laptop's hard drive. He had hand disinfectant and several sticks of gum in his cargo pockets, and he was wearing his pseudo-flannel blue plaid shirt over his dark blue t-shirt in case the air conditioning on the plane was unbearable.

He was ready for anything. Except for this.

It started slowly, like a telephone ringing incessantly in some distant room. With each second it got slightly louder until it was a pounding ringing inside Jason's mind. Guided by some unnatural thought train, Jason tightened his grip on his two bags and bent his head low, trying to block out the inaudible noise.

Just when it seemed the ringing couldn't get any worse, Jason went completely numb. He couldn't see anything, not even darkness; he couldn't feel the weight of his duffel bag or even the clothes on his back. The conversational hum of the airport was gone along with its sterile odor. Jason felt like he was moving, even though there was no way to feel the air. The only way he knew he was alive was the fact that he was literally senseless.

As quickly as it began, it ended. He found himself standing on a beach still clutching his baggage so tightly he could see his knuckles turning white.

-

A teenage girl with blue flare jeans, a black t-shirt, and a red jacket sat on the floor of Terminal One at JFK airport in New York. She was sitting against a wall with her head tucked between her legs, her dirty blonde hair falling around her head in a mess. If one looked closely at her, one could almost see a faint pink glow surrounding her.

With a start she raised her head and looked around her. The glow was gone. A smirk crossed her face as if she had just gotten the better of her worst enemy. She took her hat, a navy baseball hat with a white "A" on it, and her tote bag and walked to the boarding kiosk near her.

"Here's my boarding pass," she said.

The clerk looked it over. "Passport?" she asked in a British accent.

The girl closed her eyes and racked her brain. She opened up one of the smaller pockets on her bag and pulled out a small navy blue book with gold lettering on it. The clerk glanced it over and handed it back to the girl who took it and walked down the hallway to her flight.

A voice over the intercom said, "This is the final boarding call for Virgin Atlantic flight 0003 and Continental flight 2397 to London Heathrow airport. All passengers are asked to board at this time. Once again..."

- Chapter 1 -

Jason looked around at his surroundings. He was standing on a small beach with a line of trees behind him and a calm, endless sea in front of him. For a few minutes he looked around, still recovering from the shock of his recent journey. Finally, out of pure exhaustion, he dropped his two bags and collapsed on the sand. “It’s just a freaky dream,” he told himself. “In five minutes you’ll wake up and write a story about this.”

After he had sat there for some time (how long, he couldn’t tell), he heard a rustle in the bushes behind him. A small animal about the size of a small dog poked its head out. When it and Jason saw each other they froze.

Jason looked more closely at the animal. It had a head and eyes like a dog, except it’s ears pointed up and back like a rabbit’s. It also had a mass of fur around its neck. Most of its body was covered in dark brown fur, while its neck and tail were shaded lighter. At the same time the animal looked at Jason and seemed to be puzzled by his baggage and the bucket hat he was wearing.

The two of them just looked at each other for about half a minute. Just then, there was another rustle and another one of the strange animals poked its head out. It took one quick glance at Jason and said, "Woah, man, you have got to tell me where you got those clothes 'cause those are like, whack, man!"

Jason just blinked. The first animal shot a fierce glance at the second. The second just kept on talking. "HEY!" it said with a bit of an attitude. "You deaf? I said, where. Did. You. Get. Those. Clothes?"

"Um..." Jason stammered, "at Old Navy?"

"Old Navy? Man, you need to start going to the New Navy 'cause the old one is not doing you justice, word?"

"Eddie, shut up!" the first animal whispered fiercely.

"What are you two going on about?" a female voice said from above. A bird with brown and gray plumage landed on a nearby branch. She took one look at Jason and said, "Oh, I see."

"Go get Sarah, Mary," the first animal said in a hushed voice.

The bird cocked her head to one side. "Right," she said before flying off. A few seconds later a human girl made her way to the beach. She looked Jason over a couple of times, but not as much as the animals had.

"Hello," she said. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Jason took a few seconds to process the question. He looked at the beach, then at the weird animals that... at least he thought they were talking. "No, I'm not," he said finally.

The girl nodded slowly. She looked to Jason to be not much more than 17 with her spaghetti-strap shirt and Capri pants. She was wearing an odd-looking belt that had several red-and-white colored balls about the size of tennis balls attached to it. "My name's Sarah," she said matter-of-factly. "You must be Jason."

Jason was taken aback. "Um... yeah, that's me."

"It is? Good. Your cousin Daniel's waiting for you back this way."

"My... cousin?" Jason didn't remember hearing about any cousins living on strange islands before. For lack of anything better to do, he obediently followed. She led him down a small path behind the brush that ended up at a picnic area complete with overpriced vending machines and several picnic tables. It was mostly deserted except for a few people about Sarah's age, each accompanied by at least one strange-looking creature.

"Daniel!" Sarah yelled across the area before Jason could count the number of different creatures he saw. An eighteen-year-old sitting at a table on the other side waved back. Quickly he folded up the laptop computer he was using and walked over to Jason.

When he was close enough, Jason could not understand how he could be related to this guy. His hair was a normal length for a man his age, but it was black with blond tips; both colors were so extreme it was apparent that neither of them were his original color. His right ear was pierced and sported a simple silver-colored earring that looked like it was made from barbed wire. He was dressed in black pants, a dark brown trench coat, and a black t-shirt with white letters that said, in all lowercase letters, "alien."

"Jason," Daniel said, shaking his hand. "Nice to see you got here safely. Come over here, I need to show you something." Without a moment for Jason to think, he was being politely pushed to a relatively dark area near one of the vending machines. “Are you okay?” he said in a hushed voice.

“I guess…” Jason said hesitantly.

“Any problems coming over here?”

“Um… define problems.”

“What were you doing when you were teleported?”

Slowly things began to make sense in Jason’s head. “So I’m not dreaming.”

“No.”

“And that was a teleport I went through.”

“Yes… did you have any problems?”

“No. Where am I?”

“We’ll get to that in a second. You are Jason Melville, are you not?”

“Yes.”

"Where were you when you were teleported?"

Jason thought back... "A chair at the airport."

"Were you in sight?"

"Of what?"

"Anyone."

Ringing... crouching down... teleport. "I can't remember."

"Was it crowded?"

"No, I do remember that much."

"Good. The thing I'm concerned about is that no one finds us here."

"Which is...?"

Daniel sighed. "How to tell you... You're aware that the animals here can talk, yes?"

Jason nodded slowly. "Now that you mention it," he said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Cut the irony," Daniel said quickly. "This is a small cluster of islands; you're on Kanto Island right now. These islands are inhabited by creatures called 'pokémon.' For some people, pokémon are pets. Other people, called trainers, use them in controlled fights. So far, we've got about eighty known species, and that number grows just about every week. Have a computer?"

Jason was thrown off guard by the sudden change in subject. "Hold on a minute," he said. "You're saying that there are intelligent animals running around this island?"

Daniel nodded. "Right. You met a couple of Sarah's eevees, didn't you?"

"Which one's an eevee?"

"The little dog things? Small... brown--"

"Yeah, those and some bird thing?"

"Pidgey. I know it sounds a lot like pigeon, but they are somewhat alike, and we've got to be able to tell them apart. Do you have a computer?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, it's right--why do you want it?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Just give me the thing, okay?"

It was all Jason could do to keep from laughing in Daniel's face. "You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"Okay." Jason maintained his grip on his computer bag. "So, um..." he said, "how are we related?"

"We're not. I just didn't want people to get too suspicious of you. Most people know me, so they wouldn't be too worried about you. Can I see your computer?"

"No. Even if we were related, no." It was extremely hard for Jason to keep his voice in a whisper. "I worked my sorry butt off for two summers to get this thing, not to mention spending over half my graduation cash on it. No."

Daniel threw up his arms. "Fine, I give up. Is it a Dell?"

"Mac."

"Okay... do you have a WiFi card in it?"

"Wireless network? Yeah, I couldn't do without it."

"Well, we've got WiFi coverage over this whole island, which means you can set up anywhere and connect to the network. It also means people can connect to your computer, so for the time being I want you to turn off file sharing, web sharing, and FTP access. I don't want anyone looking at stuff on your computer."

"Why not?"

"I... er, I don't want any contact with the outside world."

"So why am I here?"

"It wasn't my decision." Daniel said it in such a way that Jason decided that the matter was best left untouched. "Anyway," Daniel said, "we need to get you to Vermilion by tonight. I can fill you in--"

Daniel was interrupted by the snap of a twig close to them. He stopped talking and motioned for Jason to do the same. Daniel slowly moved his arm to a nearby branch. In a quick motion he flung the branch back to reveal the eevee that first saw Jason on the beach.

"Spencer!" Daniel said, not bothering to keep quiet. "Have you been eavesdropping?"

Spencer was trembling. "I've been dropping no eaves, Daniel, honest!"

"What did you hear?"

Spencer glanced at Jason who was chuckling to himself. "Nothing important, really," he said.

"Except the bit about the Dark Lord, a Ring, and something about the end of the world, right?" Jason said.

Daniel glared at Jason as if to say, "You're not helping things." Jason just grinned broadly.

"Well," Daniel said with sarcasm, "I'm not going to turn him into anything unnatural, if that's what you're afraid of. Perhaps he should accompany you to Vermilion."

Spencer's eyes lit up. "Really? I can-- Is it okay with Sarah?"

Daniel shrugged. "She lives in Vermilion anyway. We're off Route 13 now; just take Route 12 back to Vermilion. And steer clear of Lavender Town, please! I don't think Jason's ready for that place yet."

Route 12 mostly consisted of a wide pier just off the mainland. The mainland hit the sea with cliffs over eighty feet high, and the sea was swift and dangerous, as evidenced by the prominent "No swimming!" signs. This was a favorite spot for fishermen, and Jason and Spencer were constantly on the lookout for the next fisher casting his or her line so as not to get tangled. All in all, it was a fairly peaceful walk.

"So you're from over the sea?" Spencer asked.

Jason shrugged. "I guess so. I don't know which direction I came from, though."

"I don't care," Spencer said. "Just being from off the island is cool enough. I've never even left Kanto, myself."

"So how many islands are there here?" Jason asked, shifting his computer bag to his other shoulder.

"There's really only one island, but there are at least three major... um, what's the word-- they stick out into the water, but they're not islands?"

"Peninsulas?"

"Yeah, that's it. There are at least three major peninsulas sticking out from the central mountain range. Each peninsula is almost like its own... state? They've each got their own culture, their own road networks, their own Gym system--"

"Gyms? Like you exercise in?"

Spencer shook his head, his ears flapping around. "Not really. It's places where a pokémon trainer of a certain level hangs out. If your pokémon beat his, you advance a badge level. Get all eight badges on a peninsula, and you can join the League."

"And what's that?"

Jason could have sworn Spencer rolled his eyes, even though it was impossible to tell since Spencer's eyes had no whites. "It's like a big club for trainers," he said, a hint of boredom in his voice. "Some trainers make a really big deal out of it, like they're all hot stuff and they're going to get into the league, but they don't give a second thought to the pokémon they're training. Those kids don't last a year."

"They're not all like that, are they?" Jason said, shifting his computer bag to his other shoulder.

"No," Spencer said with hesitation, "not all of them. There are the serious ones who actually look out for the well being of their pokémon, and they usually get close. But the last badge-- there are eight of them on each peninsula-- is almost always run by some die-hard who will win at any cost, and the nice trainers usually get killed there."

Jason stopped. "Literally?"

Spencer laughed out loud. "No, not literally. Come on, don't you recognize a figure of speech when you hear one?"

Jason chuckled. "Yeah, it's just that I don't know what to expect here."

Spencer nodded. "I know what you mean." They walked in silence for a few minutes until Spencer broke the silence. "So, what's the world like where you come from?"

"Can you be any more specific?" Jason said with a chuckle. "So far it's about the same as yours, except without the, uh... pokémon."

"But is it... well..." Spencer struggled to find the word. "Isn't it bigger?"

"Oh, yeah," Jason said. "There's loads of people in some spots. They've got places that are so crowded in the east that people have to sleep on the streets, then there are wide open spaces in the west where there'll be about three people for every square mile of land. And that's just America."

"Wow..." Spencer breathed. "I've got to see that."

"You and me both," Jason said.

"What do you mean? I thought you came from there?"

Jason shook his head. "I come from the east coast. That's the fairly crowded part. All the wide open spaces are on the other side of the continent."

"So? Can't you walk?"

This time it was Jason's turn to laugh out loud. "I could. It would take several months, if not a couple of years, but I could. The country's a couple thousand miles across, you know."

Spencer's eyes grew wider at the sound of that. "How do you get to the other side!"

"You take a plane. Or a car. A car's cheaper, but it takes longer, plus--"

"What are those?"

The simplicity of the question caught Jason off guard. "You don't have cars?"

"What are cars?" Spencer was starting to show some frustration.

"They're..." Jason moved his arms in vague motions, trying with little success to draw the outline of a car. "They're things you ride in; you've got a driver and then other people sit in the seats and you can go places faster... do you have any idea what I'm saying?"

Spencer cocked his head to one side. "We've got electric bicycles?"

Jason pondered this. "Okay, I'll take that. No, you don't have cars."

The conversation stalled for another couple of minutes. As they passed a small group of people, one young boy came running after Jason, yelling.

"Don't turn around," Spencer said.

"Why not?" Jason said, shifting his computer bag to his other shoulder.

"Because he's a trainer, and he probably wants to challenge you."

"But I'm not a trainer," Jason said, thinking that would clear him of the matter.

"Try telling him that," Spencer said with a twitch of his ear. "All he sees is a guy on a journey and a pokémon by his side, and a rare one at that."

"You're rare?"

"Not every pokémon species that Sarah takes care of sells for $100 a head," Spencer said with pride.

By this time the boy had caught up with Jason. He tapped Jason on the shoulder, and when he had turned around, the boy said in a grand voice, "I am a pokémon trainer, and I challenge you to a pokémon battle!"

"I'm sorry," Jason said, trying to hide his inexperience. Spencer, on the other hand, was on his back howling with laughter. "I am not a pokémon trainer," Jason continued, "and I humbly decline your challenge."

The young trainer's face turned red, almost the same shade as the vest he was wearing. "But you've got an eevee right there!" he bellowed. Spencer stopped laughing, and other people on the pier began either to turn their backs or watch in amusement.

"He's not mine," Jason protested. He turned his back and began to walk away, but the boy continued yelling.

"You can't walk away from a challenge! It's unethical. I can have your trainer's license suspended for this!"

"Trainer's license?" Jason whispered to Spencer.

"Yeah, we have those," Spencer whispered back.

The boy was still insistent on a battle. "I bet you don't want to see yourself to a prodigy like me," he challenged.

At this, Spencer snapped. He turned around, walked up to the boy, and yelled, "He doesn't even have a stinking license you thick-headed nail! So unless you want your license suspended for participating in an illegal battle, I suggest you shut your sorry mouth and go find some other people to annoy!" When no one said anything, he composed himself, tucked his tail low and walked over to Jason.

"Let's just get out of here," Spencer whispered. Both of them continued walking towards Vermilion, trying to avoid the pointed stares of the people on the dock.

They walked in tense silence for five minutes. Jason tried to distract himself with the scenery while Spencer muttered to himself every so often. The atmosphere was broken by a small yellow mouse-type pokémon running between them and blocking their path.

"You better watch your language," it snapped to Spencer in a somewhat high-pitched voice.

Spencer groaned. "I'm sorry," he said impatiently. "I shouldn't have yelled like that, but he wasn't listening to him."

The yellow pokémon's tail twitched. "You still haven't explained your relationship to him," it said with an air of superiority, motioning to Jason. "If you're not his, then what are you doing with him?"

"He doesn't have any pokémon of his own," Spencer explained, trying his best not to yell. "I'm making sure no wild pokémon attack him."

The mouse eyed Jason. "And how does someone of your age go about not having a pokémon of his own?" it asked him. Spencer opened his mouth to reply, but the mouse cut him off. "Let him speak for himself; he's not mute, is he?"

Jason glanced down at Spencer, but he was just as scared as he was. What if Jason said something he shouldn't? "I-- well," he began, "I'm just not from around here."

"I could see that," the mouse said, still maintaining its air. "But I still don't see how you can grow up on this island and not have one." Jason flinched at this, and the pokémon caught it. "Unless, of course," it said, "you're not from the island at all?"

Jason glanced from side to side and inhaled deeply, and the mouse nodded. "I see," it said. "Well then, I have a message to deliver to you, Jason." It added extra emphasis to Jason's name.

Jason and Spencer jumped at the mention of his name. "How do you know--" Spencer began.

"Know Jason's name?" the mouse said. "You'll find there are a lot of things we know. Jason, all you need to know for now is to keep a low profile and avoid situations like the one we encountered earlier--" Jason opened his mouth to protest, but the mouse continued. "--which, I may add, you handled fairly well. We will be speaking with you again in the near future. And you are not to tell Daniel that we spoke to each other. That is all."

The mouse turned to leave, but Jason yelled out, "Wait!" The mouse turned around and looked at him impatiently. "Why am I here?" Jason asked.

The pokémon flicked an ear. "Because Mew wants you here." It then scampered off to another end of the dock and into the arms of the boy who had challenged Jason earlier.

"That was interesting," Spencer said. He looked up at Jason, who was staring at the ground shaking his head. "Hey!" he said, and Jason started and looked down at Spencer.

"Um... we keep going?" he said weakly.

Spencer nodded. "Turn off at the gatehouse on the left up there. That'll put us on the road to Vermilion."

"What happens if we go straight?" They began walking. Jason shifted his computer bag to his other shoulder.

Spencer shuddered. "We end up in Lavender, and you do not want to go there just yet. It's all full of ghosts and freaky stuff and-- you just don't want to go there."

"I don't know," Jason said. "I think I'm too confused to be scared of anything right now."

Spencer chuckled. "That, I can understand.

- to be continued -