Eddies

Chapter 29: Two hearts...

DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Eddies 29

J.B sat on the edge of his bed in his darkened room, staring down listlessly at the red and white ball in his hands; hands that were shaking slightly, reflecting the inner turmoil raging within him.

Ever since that big furred idiot had handed him the thing, it was as if his thought processes had hit a single track.  He simply couldn't stop thinking about it.

Heading back to the afternoon meeting, late thanks to the typhlosion's machinations, he could not concentrate on the discussion at hand.  A fortnight ago, his world was normal; he went to work, went home, ate dinner alone and went to bed after an hour watching the TV.  Then repeat ad nauseum.

He hadn't always been alone.  He'd had a wife, and a beautiful daughter.  Both taken from him way too early in a hit and run that nearly ruined him, a random, unthinkable act that sent him into a spiral depression that came close to breaking him.  They caught the guy, sure, but what did it matter.  He was young; a fool on a joy ride; and his family remained dead.  Nothing could change that.

He had options at the time; at least he thought he had.  He could have joined them, ending the misery in a lead-and-gunpowder fuelled self indulgence.  But having reported to so many similar scenes over the years, the sense of melodrama disgusted him.  Thinking of his colleagues; his friends; finding him in such a condition was repulsive, and with little regret he turned away from such an option.

Still, he felt a hollow shell inside.  For the past five years, he'd thrown himself at his work, to the exclusion of everything else, until even those he worked for saw him as a law enforcement robot, with no life and no alternative.

He didn't care about that; either their opinion or their sympathy.  It simply didn't matter.

Even when Tim became his assistant, and the pair formed a tentative friendship based on mutual respect, he kept the distance between them.  They shared the odd drink, went to a few pubs, played the odd game of golf; but even J.B knew, inside, it was a pretence at a normal life he refused to return to.  A social thing, giving the impression he wasn't really dead inside, although he was fairly sure Campanile saw right through it.  However, he never offered J.B any sympathy on his plight, but simply acted as if the world spun on as normal, which it did of course.  The world didn't change for the grief of a single man.

But there was always that distance.  He would never get that close to another again; the pain of loss was simply too great.  Again, it'd never bring them back, so what was the point of it?

J.B rubbed his face listlessly.  He couldn't think; couldn't grasp the situation.

What the fuck had that great hairy bastard been thinking?

Rolling the ball over, he spied the small hole that would release the creature permanently from its captivity.  He'd been given a quick crash course on operating the thing, although most of what he'd been told was still a whirl in his mind.

He could get a paper clip or something... anything...  Stick it in the hole and get rid of the problem.

Suddenly resolved, he dropped the ball on the bed, crossing the room to his pack contents scattered haphazardly on the small dresser on the far wall, and began rummaging through it for something suitable.  Spying an opened envelope to the rear; a letter he'd had typed providing whatever authorities here with documented proof of his and Tim's position; he wrenched it open, tearing the paper in his haste to pull the pages out. 

Even in the poor light he spied his goal, the dim glow from outside still bright enough to glint off the silver clip binding the pages together.

He pulled it off, striding to the bed and grabbed the ball from the quilt top.  Squinting, he made out the small hole in its side and he straightened the clip, ready to shove it in...

But then the typhlosion's words filtered through his rage.

The creature was young.  Had lost its mother, and wouldn't likely survive on its own.

Shit!

Damn him!

Damn that bastard totally for putting him here!

Dropping to the mattress, he threw the paper clip savagely against the far wall, where it dropped to lie on the carpet beneath.  With the ball still cradled in his palms, he returned to staring at the thing helplessly, hands even less steady than before.

Jesus, Tim.  What the hell do I do now?

Sighing, he turned the ball so that the button was facing him.  That such a little thing could cause him so much angst was infuriating.  Finally sick of the matter, he tensed himself, closed his eyes and drew in a breath as he pressed the button firmly.  He could see the bright blue flash light the room through his eyelids, and he took another long breath before opening them carefully. 

The room seemed empty, and he squinted into the darkness trying to make out the creature he'd released.  It took him long moments before a small movement in the corner attracted his eye, and a small, dark shape stirred fitfully, pressing back into the shadows to escape his attention.

His heart skipped a beat momentarily, and a small part of him almost laughed at the rush of adrenalin that accompanied the sensation.  Some hardened cop he was, afraid of a small animal in the dark.  But the thought died off as the creature kept to the darkness.

He had little experience dealing with animals, and not knowing what the hell this thing was didn't help him at all.  He sighed, rising from the bed slowly, and took a tentative step forward, then another. Reaching out a cautious hand, he called out softly "Come on.  It's OK.  Come on...” rolling his eyes mentally at the crooning sound of his voice.

The corner remained dark and silent.

Sighing again, he stepped forward further, and approached within a few feet.  Arm still outstretched and tone placating, he tried coaxing it from the corner, hoping to show the thing it shouldn't be afraid of him.

What he didn't expect, was the creature launching itself at his face, a furious scream coming from its muzzle!

Cursing, he fell back a step, almost falling over the discarded clothing he'd left on the floor.  Bringing his arm up before his face, he managed to fend off the enraged creature from attacking his head, only to have it sink its fangs deep into his forearm.

He swore again, trying to dislodge the thing with his free hand as he tumbled backwards, falling over the small dining setting in the centre of the room.  With a crunch, it collapsed beneath him, and he fell back into splinters, one of which stabbed deeply into his thigh.

With a final violent arm movement, he dislodged the creature, which dropped and rolled to its feet, hissing at him.  It then spun, bolting into the bathroom, where he could hear it breaking things in its frantic attempt to escape.

J.B groaned, surveying the deep lacerations in his forearm while wincing at the throbbing pain in his thigh.  Cursing, he grabbed around the floor, locating a dirty t-shirt, which he managed to wrap around the wound, staunching the blood for at least the moment.

The thigh wound was another matter; the splintered chair leg had dug deep, and the hole left when he yanked it out bled profusely.

Limping, he grabbed at another shirt, wrapping it around his fist in case the thing attacked again, and staggered towards the bathroom.  Peering through the doorway, he couldn't see it, so he cautiously entered, keeping his back to the doorway to ensure it didn't slip past him.  Fumbling with his free hand, he found the light switch, flicking the room light on and squinting into the brightness.

Through the smoked glass of the shower screen, he could just see something move in the cubicle.

Still wary, he stepped closer, sliding the glass shower door open further so he could see inside.

He found it huddled in the corner, face pressed into its tail as it curled around itself, releasing a quiet, keening sob that echoed its loneliness and fear.

The size and general shape of a small dog, its dense slate-gray fur was tipped with red and black highlights on its head and feet.  Large triangular ears were pressed back against its scalp, almost hiding beneath the whorled scruff of fur on its head.  On his entry, it raised its head, baring its fangs at him in defiance.

It was crying; tears staining the fur beneath red eyes desolated with hopelessness.

He staggered backwards, heart cramping in his chest at the look.  When his back met the wall, he froze, before sliding down the cold tiles to sit with knees drawn against him, watching the thing.

The sad, hopeless, miserable thing...

The little thing that had attacked him with such fury, only to now lie there staring at him in defiance.

His chest heaved, a chuckle clawing its way up his throat to burst hysterically from his lips.

Then another, and another...

Soon, he was laughing uncontrollably, unaware of the tears leaking down his cheeks, until the laughs turned into sobs, and he pressed his face into his hands, mind unable to cope with the years of abuse it had received.

Long minutes passed as he broke down completely.  He couldn't think, or act.  All he had was his loss; his family, his friend, his home...everything piled on top of his own loneliness and heartache.

He couldn't bear it anymore.

It was too much.

So intent on him pain, he didn't see the creature look up at him, watching his broken body warily.  He didn't care, truly...   Nothing mattered anymore.

Nor did he see it rise slowly, and take a tentative step, then another, towards him.  Single steps bringing it to within a few feet of him, where it continued to stare at him with frightful intensity.

Zorua had reacted to the human's presence with the fear and anger she'd come to associate with them.  She'd attacked him, and fled, not knowing his reasons for being there.

He hadn’t hurt her.  She was just scared to death, and alone. 

So very alone.

She missed her mum so much.

Now, when a human held out a hand to her, she attacked him.
She didn’t even really know why.

Watching him... really watching him... She could see he hurt, too.

He was alone.

Big, human and scary, for sure.
Still, alone.  He didn’t have anyone, either.

For the first time, she saw past her own terrors; her own fear and desperation.  She sat there watching this human desperately, and she could sense a kindred spirit when she saw one.  This human knew the pain and the suffering she'd gone through.  She knew not why, but she knew it with all her being.  The loneliness of being without friend or family, in a world in which you had no hope of salvation. 

He was kin, in the oddest sense of the word. 

He was just like her.

It wasn't until he felt soft fur brushing his leg that J.B's despair broke, and he opened red, swollen eyes to see the creature lying against his leg, back pressed against his good thigh and its face again hidden beneath its tail.  It shook, whether in fear or pain he didn't know, but he could feel it through the fabric of his pants.  He found his hand slowly lowering from his face; fingers paused uncertainly over its body, before combing gently through its fur, his broken mind suddenly distracted at the sensation.

They sat, unmoving, for a long time, as he stroked the creature in sympathy, until it finally stopped shaking, dropping into a deep, exhausted slumber against him.  Even then, he found himself comforting it, stroking long ears as it sighed in its sleep as his own mind calmed, and he regained his hard won composure.

The human, who had lost all hope long ago, and the small pokemon, whose life had been cruelly shattered, and could share his pain so completely.

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Bill woke early, his face pressed against Shadow's back, and his arms still wrapped tightly around her.  As he stirred, she moved beneath him, rolling to bring her head around to face him.  Even as he dared opening his eyes to regard her, thinking she may be angry at him, he couldn't miss the look on her furred face; fear, worry, stress...  All the signs she thought he might reject her.

He sighed, reaching out a hand to stroke her cheek gently, and she nuzzled into his palm.

While he still had no idea what he thought of the situation, he knew one thing for certain; he wouldn't... couldn't... imagine going on without her besides him.

Gently, he said "Good morning, beautiful", leaning forward to place a soft kiss on her moist nose.  She sighed, eyes softening as the realisation struck that he wasn't angry finally dawned.  Reaching up with a paw, she placed it on his own cheek, pads warm against his skin as she leaned forward herself, lips this time meeting another target as her tongue met his own, lips pressed together for long moments.

When they finally broke, a mischievous look struck her face, and she swiped her tongue from his chin to his forehead, causing him to splutter in indignation.  Her snigger was unmistakable, and he lunged forward to grab her tightly, arms wrapped around as he rolled her back and lay on top of her chest, blowing raspberries into her mane in retaliation. 

They wrestled for several minutes, even as Bill realised the feline pokemon was letting him win, allowing him to keep her pinned down beneath him as they played. Finally tuckered out, he leaned down again and planted another soft kiss on her lips, staring into her wide eyes as she pressed forward, arms around his neck as they hugged.

Sighing, he finally pulled back, looking down at her and said "You know I love you, right?"

Eyes softening, she nodded and broke into pokespeak; something she rarely did around him.  After a moment, realising he couldn't understand her, her brows drew together and she growled softly at her inability to communicate with him.

He grinned, stroking her furrowed brow, and said "You love me too?"

Eyes widening, she nodded happily, and purred as he wrapped his arms back around her neck, hugging her tightly.

"I'm glad" he whispered to her, and it was some time before they broke their embrace and packed up to return to the farm house.

The trip home was uneventful, and they made the station by 9am.  As he parked the RV in the barn, Bill's mind considered the night’s events, and the implications that might result from them.

Regardless of his feelings for her, he was still a police officer, and he had to face the facts that, by local standards, his actions were questionable, at the very least.

There was no confusion regarding consent; that was a no brainer.  Hell, she'd been the one to initiate it, and anyone who thought she was not in full agreement with her actions, were likely to get a claw full of pain from the luxray.  However, he didn't have any doubts that if they were found out by his fellow officers, his career in the force would be over. 

Sighing as he grabbed his gear, he felt the thump as Shadow leapt from the RV tray to brush up against his side, comforted by his contact.  Stroking her back gently, he squatted besides her, bringing her face in his hands as he turned her towards him. A quizzical expression on her face, she cocked her head to the side as he dropped to the ground, crossing his legs as she sat on her haunches before him.

Wondering where to begin trying to explain things to her, he rubbed his neck, turning eyes towards the barn roof as he collected his thoughts.

"Umm, Kitten.  About last night..."

He watched her eyes narrow suddenly, as her gaze became intent on his own...

With a sigh, he reassured her.  "It was wonderful, and you're amazing, OK.  It's nothing to do with that!"

As she nodded solemnly, he continued.  "People here are... scared of things they don't understand.  The animals here aren't like you pokemon.  They can't talk, as you know, right?"  At her nod, he sighed, stroking her face.  "If they found out...  what we did...  They wouldn't understand.  It's not that I don't want people to know I love you, alright?  But that stuff... they don't need to know, and it'd be best if they didn't find out."

Looking at her seriously, he said "They might take you away from me if they found out.  I... I couldn't stand that..."  Dropping his eyes, he avoided her look, but was bowled over as she stepped forward and rubbed up hard against him.

From his seat on the dirty floor, he laughed, grabbing her around the chest before pressing his face into her mane.  From his face full of warm fur, he whispered. "It doesn't mean I don't love you.  I just don't want to lose you..."

She pulled away from him, loudly purring, and gave him a knowing, understanding nod.

With a smile, he said "Well, let's go do some explaining as to our night away alone.  Probably best if you let me do the talking, huh?"

Her purring, growling laugh echoed through the barn as they made their way to the farm house.

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J.B woke late the next morning, still exhausted but at least warm beneath the bed covers.

He barely remembered getting up from the bath room floor the previous evening, limping to the main room carrying the warm pile of fur in his arms.  As he dropped to the mattress with a groan, leg stiff and aching, he placed the pokemon on the sheets beside him.  It briefly opened an eye, gazing at him indecipherably, letting out a small yawn, long, pink tongue poking from widely stretched jaws, before falling again into a deep sleep.

He'd sat next to it for a while, barely able to see it in the dark, but aware of its warmth against his leg.  It didn't stir at his touch, sleeping in seeming contentment.  At least its vicious edge had gone dormant, he thought wryly, deciding he'd better see to his injuries.

Slipping back into the bathroom, he closed the door before turning the light on to examine the wounds.   Unwrapping the sheet from his arm had him wincing as the fabric stuck to the gore but, while deep, the bite marks were small and had already begun scabbing over.  He washed them thoroughly with the antibacterial soap on the sink dispenser, before rummaging through the draws for anything to wrap them in.  Luckily, his search bore fruit, and he pulled out a small first aid kit from a draw.  Applying antiseptic to the area, he topped it off with a self adhesive dressing, pressing down firmly to ensure the edges stuck decently to his still-damp skin.

The thigh wound was a different matter.  It still oozed blood slowly, and he counted himself fortunate the timber hadn't struck an artery.  Squeezing it open, he cleaned it as best he could, filling the wound with thick antibacterial paste and binding a gauze dressing and elasticised bandage around the thigh, using adhesive tape to keep it in place.  He'd possibly need stitches, although he'd suffered much worse during his career, and while nasty, there was a chance it would simply heal on its own.  Either way, he could reassess it in the morning.

Standing at the mirror, he stared into his face, seeing for the first time his unkempt state.  The two day growth had hit a week, and his hair was a mess; in all, he looked like a slob.

A warm face washer rubbed across his hair helped a bit, although a good brushing would do it a world of good.  The stubble could wait till the morning.

With a sigh, he leaned and stretched, switching off the light and returning to the bedroom.  The pokemon remained where he had put it, breathing lightly as it twitched during sleep. 

Peering down at it, he considered moving it to the floor, but instead stripped off the remainder of his street clothes and slipped in under the covers next to it.  As he did so, it woke again, watching him intently, before returning to sleep as he settled.

Finally, unable to keep awake any further, he closed his eyes, and dropped asleep within moments.

With the bright sun shining through the window, he woke slowly, starting as a small, intent furred face appeared in front of him.  He sat up abruptly, nearly tumbling the creature off the bed, but it jumped backwards to land nimbly near his feet, still regarding him warily. 

Slipping sideways, he dropped his feet to the floor, just as a loud knock on the door startled him fully awake.  Cursing, he pulled on his shorts and a shirt, wincing as the ache in his leg bit deep, and hobbled over to the door.

However, by the time he flung it open, the visitor had departed, leaving a small plastic bag at the entrance.  Grabbing it up, he staggered to the dresser, giving the remains of his dining table a dark glance.  On examination, the bag contained several objects, some of which he was unfamiliar with.  The small bag of pokemon food was clearly labelled, and he poured a generous helping into the bowl provided, setting it and a second bowl of clean water near the door to the veranda.  Once he'd placed it down, he was crowded out by the pokemon, who pushed past him to begin munching its way through the dry kibble noisily.

Returning to his seat, he opened the cardboard box cautiously, finding it contained a wrist device; a pokedex; similar to that worn by Chris and the Rangers.  There was also a leather belt clip, clearly used for holding the red and white balls.  With space for three, he grinned dryly at the thought of how much blood he'd lose before filling them up, if he ended up in this much pan just gaining one.

The final item in the box was a black and yellow covered book, approximately an inch thick, titled "Pokemon for dummies."  Flicking through the pages revealed content familiar to anyone who'd read similar books.  He made to put it down, when the front cover opened to coarse writing inside the cover.  Squinting, he found a message addressed to him.

"J.B.  Thought you could use this.  It was basically written for you!  Regards, and good luck.    Storm."

Rolling his eyes, he dropped it beside the box containing the pokedex, and went to the bathroom for a long, long shower.

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After snatching a quick breakfast, J.B headed down to the nurses office to check out his leg.  Not having much idea what to do with the pokemon, which had returned to the bed to watch him, he originally tried to figure out how to get it back in the ball.  With his finger on the button, he pointed it at the creature, which growled suddenly, hackles raised as it rose to confront him.

Backing away hurriedly, he put the ball on the dresser and raised his hands pleadingly, as the pokemon slowly calmed, turning back to simply watching him instead.

Clearly, the ball was a bad idea.

Once ready, he decided to leave it in the room during the day.  Hell, if it trashed the place, he'd leave Storm to pick up the pieces.  But as he opened the door, the critter sped past him through the opening, to sit on its haunches in the hallway outside waiting for him. 

Cursing, he turned to it, pointing to the open door, and said "No!  Inside!"

It looked at him, shook its head, and said "Zor!"

Stunned, he pointed inside again, and again it refused, instead marching down the corridor with head and tail held high, leaving him cursing as he hurried to shut the room and chase it down.

He found it at the lifts, waiting.

Pursing his lips, he studied it for a moment, taking the time to consider its response.  For a second he paused, before saying "OK, I feel like an idiot asking, but you can understand me, right?"

As it nodded solemnly, he groaned, and rubbed his face tiredly.  Damn, crazy talking animals in this place, he cursed silently, before pressing the lift button and saying "Alright, come then, but stay close, OK?"

As the doors opened, it nodded, and followed him inside, where it stood next to him silently.

Arriving at the nurse’s office, he found a pink haired woman in a smart white uniform on call.  She calmly redressed his arm before pursing a lip at his thigh wound.  While not infected, the edges had swollen, so stitching it back up wasn't feasible.  Instead, he received a lecture on the necessity of early wound treatment, a new dressing, and was summarily shunted back to the hallway with no further regard.

Somewhat stunned at the woman's lack of tact, he turned to the pokemon and said dryly "She was a happy sort!"  When the pokemon sniggered, he shook his head again at the idiosyncrasies of it, and the pair returned to the lift, this time arriving at the main work room where the day's meeting was to occur.

As the doors opened, he almost walked into Scott and Storm, the pair holding an animated and somewhat heated argument in the hallway outside the meeting room, their backs to the lift doors.

"What possibly possessed you to do that?" he overheard the human Ranger accost his partner, who simply shrugged and said "I think he needed it.  Worst case, we can always take her back, if she's going to be too much trouble for him to handle."

J.B cleared his throat, and the pair spun to find him standing behind them.  Scott turned red, clearly surprised at being caught out discussing him behind his back.  The typhlosion, however, grinned broadly, leaning down to welcome the small pokemon animatedly.

With the meeting set to start, Storm rose and said "Well, at least you made an impression.  She says you'll do for the time being, and she's going to stay.  So, unless you are still intent on returning her, I guess we'd better go inside."

Gazing down at the small, furred creature besides him, who continued to watch him intently, J.B murmured "No.  I don't think so.  I think we can work things out", pushing past the typhlosion into the meeting room beyond, ready to start the day proper.

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Author's note:

Hard to write, but possibly explains a few things.

Let’s hope the two of them can work it out together...