Story Notes:
I'm not always the best at summaries, categories and warnings may be updated as the story progresses.I do not own Pokemon, Nintendo/GameFreak do, all other original characters are my own.Special thanks to Unabashed & ShadowIceAvian for beta reading.Enjoy :3
Prologue
A thin haze of smoke filled the waiting room, sitting in a chair a man in his mid 30s sat with his head down, clutching tattered hair. The butts of several cigarettes sat in an ash tray, he nervously ran his hands through his unkept hair, glancing up at the clock. "Ten hours, its been far too long," he thought to himself. As he stood up to stretch a man in a white coat opened the door.
He took a second to cut through the haze with his hand and give himself a breath of fresh air, before he could speak he was already interrupted, "Its been far too long to be normal, how are they, what happened?"
The other man took a second to sigh and gather himself, "Mr. Thorsen, I'm afraid there were some complications, before you ask your wife is doing fine, she's currently resting in the maternity ward, it's your son that we've had to work on."
The man slumped back into the chair, the duality of the news taxing his mind. "We think we have a diagnosis though," Thorsen's head shot up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes, "We're fairly certain its Moyamoya syndrome, I'm not sure if this was one of the ones you were working on or not, but it causes arteries and blood vessels to have very thin walls, he was born with pretty severe internal hemorrhaging, a genetic defect like this...he might live to be five, tops, I'm sorry"
"I know what that is," He sighed heavily again and raised himself out of the chair, "I'm going to take a walk to clear my head, if my Wife wakes let her know I'll be back shortly."
Markus Thorsen exited the hospital and into the chilly fall night, and lit another cig, Arceus be dammed, of all the people something like this could happen to, you work to cure hereditary genetic diseases only to have your first born be granted a death sentence.
He pulled out a cell phone and began to dial the one person who might know how to help him, even if it meant making a deal with the devil. "Markus," a raspy voice echoed on the line, "Its 3am, why are you calling at this hour?"
"I need all of the experimental notes from Fuji's Cinnabar project"
"Cinnabar Project?" the voice on the other end scoffed, "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Don't bullshit with me Jonas, we both know its an open secret, and I also know all his research wasn't destroyed in the fire and I know who was funding him." Markus said, his voice filled with venom over the insult, the other end of the line went silent.
"Tomorrow at 7pm, they will call you on this number, we never had this conversation" The line went dead. Markus sighed and pocketed it cellphone, pausing to take the last drag of cigarette he walked back to the hospital to see his wife, the ramifications of his actions still yet to sink in.
Markus sat at his kitchen table, staring blankly at his cellphone on the table, he glanced back at the clock then back to the phone. It began to buzz loudly as the vibrator went off, startling him back to reality, he took a second to collect his thoughts before answering.
His lips quivered in anticipation "Hello?" he asked pensively.
"Good evening, I was informed by a third party you have interest in some notes....why?" the voice on the other end was garbled and deep, likely to mask it from anyone else that might be listening in.
Markus collected himself, "I-I......I need them, for my son, my research is proceeding too slowly, there are too many constraints....." He choked back for a second trying to find his words, "I have three, maybe four years, otherwise he dies, I don't need your money, just the notes"
The other end met only with silence, Markus sat silent, briefly believing that the contact had hung up, not willing to grant his request, he was about to close the connection when he was interrupted again.
"We have decided to grant you the notes, they will be dropped at your home in large binder, you will have two weeks to review them, included will be instructions for destroying them, do not attempt to make any copies, we will be watching...."
"Oh Arceus, thank you, you have no idea...."
"HOWEVER, do not think you are getting these as a charity Mr. Thorsen. In three years we expect results, you will not publish anything you are able to build on top of Dr. Fuji's original research. Anything you make is our property, understood?"
"Yes, I understand, but...." Before he could continue the dial tone sounded and the call was over, he had seal a deal, one with a group of people Girganta himself would keep on payroll, Rockets. He just hoped that at the end of the day what he produced would be enough to satisfy them, but not enough for them to use to harm others. "What have I done...."
The next several days were filled with tension, his wife had come home, but his son, now named Joshua, remained at the hospital. They had managed to stabilize his condition, but kept him in a specially cushioned natal care unit to prevent any errant bumps from causing vessels to burst.
Ellen and Markus has a long talk about what to do with their son, he lied through the entire thing. Their "agreed" upon plan was to bring him home and try to enjoy what time they had before he passed away.
Two large thick binders arrived at Markus' house later that week, spiriting them away to the lab at his office, he spent the next two weeks studying them intently. He had heard the notes were astounding, but what he found blew his mind.
The Mewtwo project, viral-phages, plasmid insertions, he committed it all to memory. The large problem Markus ran into when trying to cure a disease was getting the new genes to take hold and work in place of the defective ones. And a foundation on how to do it was laid out before him.
Included with the notes were very precise directions on how to dispose of them, after two weeks he drove south along route 34, stopping at an isolated park at sunset, its only inhabitants a murder of murkrow that eyed him pensively. Placing the binders in a barrel, he lit them on fire before departing, never able to shake a feeling that someone or something had been watching him.
The next year turned Markus into a complete wreck, spending increasing amounts of time at the lab created tension with Ellen, who felt she was being left alone to deal with Josh, whose infrequent trips to the emergency room left her in tatters as well.
Eventually, he hit pay-dirt. He had found ways to insert genes before, but never to activate them. A cluster of ditto cells could easily produce enough viral material to inoculate someone completely, but that still wasn't enough, it needed a vector, something to get the genes to express, and the answer was the most malleable DNA available, eevee.
After the injection Josh came down with a high fever, again he was written of for dead, and again he pulled through. Over the next months bruising and bleeding tapered off and then stopped. He had done it, against all odds he had fixed his sons condition.
Just weeks after the treatment, the phone rang, a garbled voice was on the line, "Its time to pay the piper, Mr. Thorsen." He choked up, "What would they want," he thought. Hundreds of scenarios of what his research had unlocked played through his head.
"Gather your research and leave them in the same park where you burnt Fuji's notes by midnight tomorrow. It would be a shame if something happened to Ellen and Josh, I hear he's doing much better now."
He hung up the phone this time before they could cut him off, he couldn't give them his notes, but he could keep his family out of it. Markus drove to the isolated park and just as he had destroyed Fuji's notes, he lit his on fire as well. The murkrow flock scattered suddenly startled by something unseen.
Markus Thorsen's car was found wrapped around a tree on route 34, it was determined he lost control due to mechanical failure, no foul play was suspected.
He took a second to cut through the haze with his hand and give himself a breath of fresh air, before he could speak he was already interrupted, "Its been far too long to be normal, how are they, what happened?"
The other man took a second to sigh and gather himself, "Mr. Thorsen, I'm afraid there were some complications, before you ask your wife is doing fine, she's currently resting in the maternity ward, it's your son that we've had to work on."
The man slumped back into the chair, the duality of the news taxing his mind. "We think we have a diagnosis though," Thorsen's head shot up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes, "We're fairly certain its Moyamoya syndrome, I'm not sure if this was one of the ones you were working on or not, but it causes arteries and blood vessels to have very thin walls, he was born with pretty severe internal hemorrhaging, a genetic defect like this...he might live to be five, tops, I'm sorry"
"I know what that is," He sighed heavily again and raised himself out of the chair, "I'm going to take a walk to clear my head, if my Wife wakes let her know I'll be back shortly."
Markus Thorsen exited the hospital and into the chilly fall night, and lit another cig, Arceus be dammed, of all the people something like this could happen to, you work to cure hereditary genetic diseases only to have your first born be granted a death sentence.
He pulled out a cell phone and began to dial the one person who might know how to help him, even if it meant making a deal with the devil. "Markus," a raspy voice echoed on the line, "Its 3am, why are you calling at this hour?"
"I need all of the experimental notes from Fuji's Cinnabar project"
"Cinnabar Project?" the voice on the other end scoffed, "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Don't bullshit with me Jonas, we both know its an open secret, and I also know all his research wasn't destroyed in the fire and I know who was funding him." Markus said, his voice filled with venom over the insult, the other end of the line went silent.
"Tomorrow at 7pm, they will call you on this number, we never had this conversation" The line went dead. Markus sighed and pocketed it cellphone, pausing to take the last drag of cigarette he walked back to the hospital to see his wife, the ramifications of his actions still yet to sink in.
Markus sat at his kitchen table, staring blankly at his cellphone on the table, he glanced back at the clock then back to the phone. It began to buzz loudly as the vibrator went off, startling him back to reality, he took a second to collect his thoughts before answering.
His lips quivered in anticipation "Hello?" he asked pensively.
"Good evening, I was informed by a third party you have interest in some notes....why?" the voice on the other end was garbled and deep, likely to mask it from anyone else that might be listening in.
Markus collected himself, "I-I......I need them, for my son, my research is proceeding too slowly, there are too many constraints....." He choked back for a second trying to find his words, "I have three, maybe four years, otherwise he dies, I don't need your money, just the notes"
The other end met only with silence, Markus sat silent, briefly believing that the contact had hung up, not willing to grant his request, he was about to close the connection when he was interrupted again.
"We have decided to grant you the notes, they will be dropped at your home in large binder, you will have two weeks to review them, included will be instructions for destroying them, do not attempt to make any copies, we will be watching...."
"Oh Arceus, thank you, you have no idea...."
"HOWEVER, do not think you are getting these as a charity Mr. Thorsen. In three years we expect results, you will not publish anything you are able to build on top of Dr. Fuji's original research. Anything you make is our property, understood?"
"Yes, I understand, but...." Before he could continue the dial tone sounded and the call was over, he had seal a deal, one with a group of people Girganta himself would keep on payroll, Rockets. He just hoped that at the end of the day what he produced would be enough to satisfy them, but not enough for them to use to harm others. "What have I done...."
The next several days were filled with tension, his wife had come home, but his son, now named Joshua, remained at the hospital. They had managed to stabilize his condition, but kept him in a specially cushioned natal care unit to prevent any errant bumps from causing vessels to burst.
Ellen and Markus has a long talk about what to do with their son, he lied through the entire thing. Their "agreed" upon plan was to bring him home and try to enjoy what time they had before he passed away.
Two large thick binders arrived at Markus' house later that week, spiriting them away to the lab at his office, he spent the next two weeks studying them intently. He had heard the notes were astounding, but what he found blew his mind.
The Mewtwo project, viral-phages, plasmid insertions, he committed it all to memory. The large problem Markus ran into when trying to cure a disease was getting the new genes to take hold and work in place of the defective ones. And a foundation on how to do it was laid out before him.
Included with the notes were very precise directions on how to dispose of them, after two weeks he drove south along route 34, stopping at an isolated park at sunset, its only inhabitants a murder of murkrow that eyed him pensively. Placing the binders in a barrel, he lit them on fire before departing, never able to shake a feeling that someone or something had been watching him.
The next year turned Markus into a complete wreck, spending increasing amounts of time at the lab created tension with Ellen, who felt she was being left alone to deal with Josh, whose infrequent trips to the emergency room left her in tatters as well.
Eventually, he hit pay-dirt. He had found ways to insert genes before, but never to activate them. A cluster of ditto cells could easily produce enough viral material to inoculate someone completely, but that still wasn't enough, it needed a vector, something to get the genes to express, and the answer was the most malleable DNA available, eevee.
After the injection Josh came down with a high fever, again he was written of for dead, and again he pulled through. Over the next months bruising and bleeding tapered off and then stopped. He had done it, against all odds he had fixed his sons condition.
Just weeks after the treatment, the phone rang, a garbled voice was on the line, "Its time to pay the piper, Mr. Thorsen." He choked up, "What would they want," he thought. Hundreds of scenarios of what his research had unlocked played through his head.
"Gather your research and leave them in the same park where you burnt Fuji's notes by midnight tomorrow. It would be a shame if something happened to Ellen and Josh, I hear he's doing much better now."
He hung up the phone this time before they could cut him off, he couldn't give them his notes, but he could keep his family out of it. Markus drove to the isolated park and just as he had destroyed Fuji's notes, he lit his on fire as well. The murkrow flock scattered suddenly startled by something unseen.
Markus Thorsen's car was found wrapped around a tree on route 34, it was determined he lost control due to mechanical failure, no foul play was suspected.