Lavender Whispers, Crimson Wars

Author’s Notes:

Ankhutenshi: So apparently, we didn’t learn our lesson the first time around, because Matt and I have teamed up to bring you another collaboration fic. The first fanfic of Matt’s I ever read was his Pokémon epic, “Against All Odds” and that was actually what led me to track him down in the first place. Since then we’ve written Yu-Gi-Oh! and now Pokémon together. It’s a real pleasure to write together with another author and friend. I hope you enjoy the story.

Matt:  I think my dad must be quite proud of me.  He fishes around on my account and reads my stories... and I never hear a single word of criticism from him.  Go figure, huh?  Well, in the meantime, here I am, increasing my repertoire -- on someone else's account.  Sorry, Dad.  Anyway, I'm glad to once again be co-writing with Ankhutenshi, who is not only an amazing and inspiring author(ess), but also a great person and a true friend.  I'm looking forward to this adventure, and I hope you are, too.  Enjoy.

Chapter 1 - Insomnia

            It was the dead of night.

            For him, it could have been mid-day and it wouldn't have mattered.

He'd spent a long time walking down this road. He was beat; he desperately needed rest, but after hearing how close he was to the town, he wasn't about to lay out his sleeping bag. He needed to get to that comfy hotel room and just take a nice rest. The money he'd earned through hard-fought battles could cover that, no problem.

He sighed, daydreaming about how he'd take a nice, long, hot shower and let his sore feet soak for an hour... maybe two, in the full bathtub. He couldn't wait to get the dirt and grime off; it seemed to cling to him, no matter how hard he tried to remove it all. If he could get just one layer off...

He snorted, feeling slightly amused by the antics of his own mind. He summoned strength from some reserve pool within him and brought his head up from its dismal position of limply dangling on his neck to look at the road ahead.

There stood a town not of epic proportions, but certainly of generous population...

And certainly possessed of a spare hotel room.

His stride increased.

The hotel, admittedly, was nicer than she had expected. Of course, having lived almost solely from PokéCenter to PokéCenter, her standards had ended up lower than she would have liked to admit. Actually, she'd been lucky to get a room at all, with the large numbers of people all trying to fit into the accommodations of a town not really designed to handle masses of trainers all vying for 'the best'.

An hour ago, she'd been wired and ready to pull an all-nighter. An hour ago, though, she hadn't been lazing on the couch. Each room was the same: small couch, small table, tiny dresser for those who didn't feel like living out of their bags, twin bed in the corner, bathroom in the back. Standard. Predictable.

An hour ago, she'd been up and moving. She should have known better than to sit down, because then she got sleepy, and unsurprisingly, now she was sleepy. She yawned, and starting pulling off her light sweater.

He would have gladly discarded his shoes were it not for the minimal protection they provided his toes from the claws of irritated Paras. The soles were cracked underneath his heels and were providing him no comfort whatsoever as he continued to trod the road.

He received a couple of strange looks as he passed by. No doubt it was because of his ripped shirt; he'd gotten into a rough spot yesterday with a couple of annoyed grass-type Pokémon, during a time he would have been much better off not incurring their wrath. It had taken a couple of well-placed fire-type attacks to force the grass-types into retreating, but they didn't do so quietly; his clothes and a good amount of his skin had gotten torn up by razored leaves.

He sighed heavily as he trudged his way into the hotel. He truly and desperately needed sleep. The exchange was made almost without speaking: the money for a key to a room. He liked this arrangement.

He made his way down the hall, his bleary eyes scanned the room numbers with only passing interest, in the truest sense of the term; he was interested only if it was his room, and if not, he passed it. His head dangled again and he stifled a yawn.

He slipped his keycard into the lock of the door, but the light flashed red; the lock was denying him access. Frowning, he tried it again, and with the same result. He was met by a red light three more times before the door swung open and a miffed-looking woman beheld him through the portal. "Is there something I can do for you?"

He mumbled, his voice cracking from the sheer effort of trying to communicate. "My... room...?"

"Oh, give me that." She swiped the card from his hand, inspected it, and pressed it back into his palm, all before he could make a single sound of protest. Her expression softened a little... but not much. "Sorry, friend, your room is this one over here." She indicated the next door to the right.

"...oh."

She rolled her eyes and closed the door.

She had dozed off for a few minutes sitting there on the couch, brought back to awareness by the slow sinking of her chin against her chest, and repeated the pattern a few more times before she dredged up enough energy to actually get up and cross the room to the bed. Kicking off her boots and not even looking to see where they landed, she climbed under the bedcover and closed her eyes.

It lasted about 30 seconds.

Groaning with irritation, she stretched out her hand and without opening her eyes, started feeling for the alarm clock on the nightstand. When she found it, she opened one eye long enough to set the alarm and then groaned again. There were no familiar green numbers on the clock face; presumably, no battery.

And no alarm meant no rising before noon the next day.

Grumbling, she got out of bed, threw on a baggy shirt, and stomped over to the door. She was on a quest; batteries, and then bed.

And in this mood, so help anyone that got in her way.

He was encountering a curious – and extremely annoying – paradox, one that had befuddled humans and Pokémon alike for ages.

He felt tired.

So why couldn't he sleep?

His hiking backpack was now situated next to the air conditioning unit. As was typical, that unit was right underneath the window, the one item in the room that most assuredly didn't need to be cooled down and was no doubt going to guzzle more money out of his pockets like some sort of mechanical leech. Oh, well. Maybe the next one would be better.

He had officially gotten rid of his shoes: they resided now in the hotel lobby's trash can, and may he that removes them from the trash and puts them on be cursed for all time with endless tormenting pains of the heel.

He was now embedded deep within the covers. His eyes were clenched tightly shut against the light that loved to pour through the crack between the wall and the blinds over the window, no matter how tightly you shut those blasted blinds. He turned his head this way and that, repositioned himself every which way, until there was no way he could possibly be any more comfortable in bed than he was now.

So why could he not sleep?

His stomach growled.

He couldn't help but groan. Oh, now it conveniently decided to interrupt its owner and his sleep in order to get what it wanted?

He mumbled, threw aside the covers, put on a pair of shorts, and stumbled to the door. The very least he could do was see what the place had to offer in the way of continental meals.

And he had best not be incontinent about it once he found out.

There was no one up at this hour; there had been some night-owls about before, but even they had retired out of prudence or sheer exhaustion. So she felt distinctly unselfconscious about crossing the lobby in a shirt that hung to her knees.

Where in the name of Neuto did they keep batteries in this place, anyway?

She headed for the front desk.

His throat was parched. He stopped at the nearest drinking fountain and slurped at the stream of water that sprang forth.

He spit it back out a moment later and cursed under his breath. What was it with public facilities and bad water fountains? Sheesh!

But, at the very least, his tongue was wet for him to complain with. For that, he supposed he could be grateful.

He made his way to the front desk.

No one at the desk, no one to be found in this whole stupid hotel, she wanted batteries and she wanted them now and she would get them now if she had to wake up the rest of the staff or raid someone's room for them, she would! "Arghh!" She snarled as she turned the corner.

His head was down, as usual, and so – also as usual – he wasn't watching where he was going. As he turned the corner, he found himself being hit head-on by a girl in a baggy shirt. His nose banged painfully into her forehead, and he stumbled backward. "Ow!"

"Ow!" yelped the girl at the same time, hands going up instinctively to soothe the sudden ache on her forehead. "Hey, watch it." The response was instinctive; not really angry, but coupled with her already short temper for tonight, made it seem downright snarky.

"You do the same," the boy responded, more on automatic than anything else. He rubbed his nose. "And I thought I was the only one in a hurry."

"In a hurry? You're the only other one even awake." She responded, dropping her hands to her sides. "Hey... do you know where they keep extra batteries in this place?"

He shrugged. "No idea. What do you need extra batteries for?"

She made a pained whimpering sound at his answer. "Alarm clock. Dead batteries. I wanna sleep..."

He blinked. "Ack.  You can take mine... I'm not planning to wake up for a good long while."

She looked at him, just sort of looked up at him while her drowsy mind caught up with his words. "Really?" she said after a moment.

He thought about it – the phrase had come out more as a joke than anything else – but then shrugged amiably. "Why not? S'not like they're going to care one way or another whose batteries are where. And I certainly don't."

She gave him a restrained smile. "Well. All right then. I hate to be impatient but I'd really like to sleep and this lobby is rather... drafty," she pronounced, tugging her shirt down futilely. Her mind was starting to register that she was walking around only barely decent and now she was in the presence of a strange guy in her nightwear and frankly, this was not easing her sleeping nerves any.

He nodded. "Okay. My room's just down that hall back there." He chucked a thumb over his shoulder, then turned to take her there. "Hey, you wouldn't know where they hide the food stockpiles, would you?"

She shook her head. "Sorry. I've got sandwiches in my room if you want one. Least I can do for the batteries."

"I'll take what I can get," he responded. He scratched idly at the shallow cut across his bare chest as he opened up the door to his room.

She stood awkwardly by the doorway. "Run into some trouble on the way here?" she asked, looking at the cuts.

He sighed as he pulled the batteries out of his clock. "Grass cuts are pretty evil in themselves, but with Razor Leaf, it's even worse."

She grimaced in sympathy. "Ouch."

"Yeah. But I'm still alive, so I guess that's a start." He stepped out again and handed her the batteries. "The clock was working, so hopefully they should have enough to get you to whenever you're wanting to wake up."

She took his batteries and tossed the dead ones she'd been carrying around in the wastebasket next to the door. "Thanks. C'mon. Do you like ham and cheese? It's all I've got."

He managed a small smile. "You kidding? That's my favorite kind. Don't let me see everything you've got, though, I'd be too tempted."

"I really hope you were talking about food just now," she said, tugging down her shirt again. Her room was in the same hallway but around the corner, and laid out exactly the same as his, but messier. She went to her backpack on the table and pulled out a wrapped sandwich. "Hope it's not smushed." She frowned as she handed it to him. "But it looks all right."

She stuck the batteries in her clock and was rewarded with blinking, bright green numbers. "What time is it? I've got to set this thing."

He checked the PokéGear strapped to his wrist. "Um, 2:31 a.m. And yes, I was talking about the food." His smile remained a little one, but it was obviously one of amusement. He took a bite of the sandwich and nearly groaned in happiness; the ham was juicy, the cheese soft, the bread fluffy. It was the perfect ham and cheese sandwich, and he savored every bite.

She programmed the clock and set it back on the nightstand. She had kind of assumed he'd take the sandwich back to his room, so his standing there ad happily eating in the middle of her room was really throwing off her whole 'sleep-now' idea.

"Uhh... so, you're... here to watch the match tomorrow?" she finally asked. If he was going to keep her awake he was darn well going to keep her entertained, too.

He shrugged as he ate. "Heard about it, but that's not really the reason. I'm just here to take a rest and do a little training. I might watch. You?"

"The match," she confirmed with a nod. "I've been on the road a while now but I figured this was worth hanging around for. My name's Tessa, by the way."

"Carson," he responded. He extended a hand. "Pleased to meet you."

She half-leaned forward and shook his hand. "Yeah, same."

Another look of amusement passed over his face. "Thanks for the sandwich. Been a while since I've eaten ham and cheese. Or anything remotely that good. Wilderness'll make you ravage your food supply pretty quick."

She gave him a strange look. "That's usually why you pack when you go walkabout."

He made a sour face. "I went too long. Misjudged the distance."

"Ah."

"Anyway..." He smiled again and nodded politely. "Thanks again, but you said you wanted sleep, and I desperately need mine. See you some other time, maybe."

"See you," she echoed. "Nice to meet you."

"You, too." He spared her one last glance and one last smile as he made his exit. He stepped back out into the hall and headed for his room. She was nice. Good to find someone friendly, for a change. Maybe now I can sleep.

He returned to his room and dove under the covers of his bed with renewed desire for the inviting oblivion of dreamless sleep.