Quick Notes: OH MY GOD PLOT. Finally, there's some plot. Yay! And a cliffhanger, too!

And yes, I know Plusle can't learn the attack Bite, or Thunder Fang for that matter. But even if they can't make use of the specific attacks called Bite or Thunder Fang, pretty much any pokemon with jaws could be taught to bite, and to make use of their natural element as they do so. So deal with it. :P

VI.

I needed someone.

No amount of posturing and acting tough, of pretending and lying to myself, could hide this basic truth. Never had I felt more alone as I did then, cowering in the cardboard box with my hands, clasping my neckerchief, over my eyes. I needed a kindly ear to listen to my story, a kindly hand to help me up, a kindly eye to show me the way home. But none of these comforts could be provided by the shams of people that lived on this sham of an Earth; I would have to face them alone.

Alone...

I huddled into an even tighter ball, pulling my filthy hat further down over my ears as I felt rain start to leak into my cardboard shelter. I knew, deep down inside – even though it stung my pride to admit so with my conscious mind - that I truly was a chickenhearted little coward. My joining the Navy as a young lad of seventeen had been an attempt to convince myself of otherwise - that I could put myself in harm's way for the good of the country, look death in the face, and come back bearing the respected title ofService Veteran, seen as a brave hero for the rest of my days and never having to again acknowledge how skittish I truly was. I had convinced myself that America was going to stay uninvolved with the conflict heating up in far off areas of the globe, and that I wouldn't have to deal with anything more than squabbles and fisticuffs, if even those, to gain my place as a hero to society. But as the political landscape had grown ever more turgid, the idea that I might have to look death in the face – and possibly not survive the encounter – had felt like a shot of ice water in my veins. Confining only in Peter, I had cloistered myself within my little radio room, worrying every day I'd have to face war – real war.

And when there was war, I had run, worrying only about myself, thoughts of my mates in danger never halting my stride. It was true that my officer had told me to do my best to get off the ship while he performed his noble duties – but I didn't have to listen. I could have defied him, could have been brave, could have helped others, could have gone down with the ship feeling as if I had no need to fear the light at the end of the tunnel, confident in my own last sacrificial moments. But because all I had ever done was run away from what scared me...

My current predicament was a direct result of my own cowardice. That much, I certainly knew. But that same cowardice was holding me back, keeping me in a choking stranglehold of fear, unable to do anything to better my situation. Every time I felt I would be brave in order to allow myself to adapt to this backwards world, my terror would rise, like a lurching, hideous sea monster, right back up to the surface to look me square in the eye. If I truly was going to survive, I had to conquer it; banish it once and for all.

Picking up the pokécapsule, I turned it over once, twice, and again, letting its weight shift across my cupped palms. If I was going to face my own fear, I could start with the terrible beast my own impulsiveness had gotten me stuck with in the first place. It might not be too bad, after all; Joy had said that it thought I was its master and would, therefore, obey my every word. A vicious beast that did anything you told it to do...with such a creature behind my back, what wouldI have to be afraid of? I'd laugh in the face of terror!

Feeling cautiously optimistic, I pushed the button on the capsule, squeezing my eyes shut to keep the light from blinding me this time. Joy, unlike myself, knew something about pokémon. If she said it would listen to my commands, that meant it would listen...right?

When I felt it was safe, I cracked my peepers open carefully, peering down at the tiny terror. It crouched in between my feet; its long ears folded back along its skull and its muzzle pressed fretfully between its forepaws. If anything, it looked even less intimidating than I had remembered – but if I knew one thing about this mad world, it was that appearances were deceiving. And even if they weren't, I thought with a sigh, I had to make do with what I had on hand.

“Okay...well...Bernedette.” At the sound of its name, the animal lifted its head slightly, pricking its ears and giving me an anticipatory look. What sort of things could this beast, this monstrous bunny as imagined by Lovecraft, actually do?I recalled the pair of fancy rabbits – Sammie and Susie, after Uncle Wiggily's little friends in the funny papers - of my own boyhood; supposedly tame creatures with soft white fur and gleaming pink eyes, and a nasty habit of biting on my fingers whenever I had foolishly tried sticking them through the wire in hope of stroking their ears. Could this savage creature, perhaps, make similar use of its teeth?

“Well, then. I hope whoever used to own you actually taught you something useful. Bite!”

At the sound of the command, the little animal pulled itself up unto its paws, putting little weight upon its injured extremity. Tensing its body, it propelled itself forwards and landed upon my chest; digging its tiny claws into the fabric of my uniform. Well, whatever this is, it certainly isn't a -

“Fuck!” The bit of colorful Navy language escaped from my throat like a racehorse straining at the bit as a vicious, terrible pain, equivalent to touching a wet cattle fence, tore through my shoulder and raced up and down the length of my body. What on earth was this? Did the bite of every pokémon feel like this? It was excruciating; even more so than the shrapnel that had injured me on the West Virginia had been. Damn it all! Damn, damn! I've got to get this monster off me!

I threw myself unto the wet tarmac, hoping to crush the miserable little beast in between my body and the surface of the street, or to, perhaps, smother it in a puddle. Chattering, it released my shoulder and struggled to squirm out from underneath me, its small forepaws bicycling uselessly in the air in its instinctive efforts to find some kind of purchase. What a fiasco this has turned out to be! What good was a vicious monster that attackedme?I couldn't be brave with such a creature. But I couldn't prove myself as a chickenheart...a chickenheart wouldn't have the strength to find their way home...

“What's going on here?”

I looked up warily, dirty rainwater streaming from my hair and down my cheeks. A girl of about my age stood a few paces away, peering down at the pathetic spectacle that I must have been with a disapproving stare. Her blond hair was cut in a rather fashionable style, curled slightly over her shoulders and framing her delicate face in an alluring manner. Clad in a well-cut, if cheap looking, pink blouse and a slightly risque short skirt, she looked as if she'd been out cutting the rug at a dance hall – even if I did have to wonder with whom, given her fellow had likely been drafted and had much more than the jitterbug on his mind. “Oh, do you ever look a fright. And such language!”

I blushed slightly. She'd heard that? “Sorry, duchess. But if some mad...pokémon...bit you,would you be able to control your mouth?”

“Is that what this is about?” The girl knelt slightly, taking a hold of one of the demon rabbit's flailing paws and pulling it gently into her arms. “What were you doing to make it want to attack you? Poor thing, it's terrified...and look at its foot!”

Was this going to be Joy all over again? “All I did was command it to attack! But it attacked me!”

The girl shook her head, almost in a patronizing manner. “And they like to say girls are poor Trainers.” She stroked the vicious brute's head, causing the creature to make a soft, contented sound in its throat and close its eyes, letting its ears droop in a relaxed state. “You can't command a pokémon to attack when there isn't anything for it toattack. It might end up attacking yourather than fear punishment for disobeying.” She offered me her free hand and I took it sheepishly, trying to hide my feelings of embarrassment at getting chastised yet again by some silly young thing as I allowed her to help me up to my feet. “At least I hope you've taught your plusle to recognize the sounds of an incoming air raid if you're going to wander the streets at night. What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“Air raids?” I couldn't hide the panic in my voice, as memories of the strafing Zeroes soaring overhead as my ship was bombarded filled my head. War...war...real war...

“Yes, air raids! You're really not a bright man, are you? Where were you when all the news reports about the Johto bombings were going around? Kanto's just as vulnerable to attack as they are!” As she spoke, she took a large, oddly-painted round nut from out of a pocket on her skirt, pushing a button upon its center that looked the same as that upon the pokécapsule Joy had given me. The nut popped open on a hinge, and, just like a pokécapsule, a creature swiftly materialized out from within it; an odd, violet furred cat – or was it a dog, or a fox? - that gave me a wary stare before following along at its master's heels. “Me, I carry Espeon for protection. Not only can she sense any incoming raids, she can project a force field about me if I can't get to a shelter in time. You do know where the shelters are, right? I'd sure hope so, if Plusle's your only pokémon.”

I had to shake my head. “I...I'm new here.” It was certainly a true enough statement.

She squinted her eyes at me slightly as we passed underneath a streetlight, getting a good look at my attire. “You're even filthier than I thought. And that sure isn't the kind of uniform any of the NCT's military branches wear. You really havehad a hard time, haven't you?” As she continued to speak, her tone became less mocking, taking on a much more sympathetic tone. “Are you one of the British soldiers stationed about here? Were you attacked? Maybe that's why you seem so disoriented. Your accent doesn't sound British, though...”

“American,” I said, trying to think of some type of cover story that this young thing would be inclined to believe. “My Navy base was attacked” - that was true enough - “but I'm tired, and feeling a bit crazy. After all, only a fool would order a...pokémon...to attack when there isn't a target, yes?” I forced a laugh, as if I knew what I was talking about. “I don't have any idea how to get back to my base, though. Is there any way I could, well...spend the night with you? What's left of the night, that is,” I finished lamely, as a clock tower somewhere far off chimed midnight.

“I couldn't let a serviceman stay out on the street, could I? My home is open to you.” As she approached a small apartment complex, she held the brute in her arms out towards me, expecting me to take the miserable creature back. “I need my hands free so I can get inside, Mister...” She squinted at my uniform. “Mister Zobeck. And you know...it wouldn't kill you to give Plusle some love. She seems like she's starved for attention.”

I was hardly in a mood to be lectured, but I also wasn't in a mood to have this girl change her mind. “Fine.” Taking the plusle, I held it in what I hoped she would find a satisfactory manner as I watched her fumble for her keys and open the door, revealing a rather shabby little affair. Lit with a single bare bulb, the apartment hardly had room for the few pieces of furniture it held – a bed with worn, wrinkled sheets that looked as if they'd been in fashion ten years ago; a rickety bed stand, a cheap dresser, and a telephone that looked perfectly normal to me but must have been cheap and primitive by this world's standards. The nouveau wallpaper hung in curled strips along one wall, and the only thing that felt even remotely modern – a small, deco-styled figurine of whatever type of creature it was this BYT kept – was chipped and dusty. If this were all I had, I couldn't help reflecting, I'd jitterbug my nights away too to keep from thinking about it.

“I know it isn't much,” the girl said softly, giving me a shy, hesitant look, “but it's all I have. With my fiance off fighting, and my only source of income serving as a secretary down at the Roscoe firm...still, you are welcome to the bed. Espeon, you'll be comfortable on the floor with me, right?” Without complaint, her purple-furred beast curled up on the worn carpet, tucking its long, forked tail close to its body.

“You don't have to give me your bed, duchess.” I sank unto the floor, trying to ignore the soft chirps for attention the demon-rabbit in my arms was making in hopes of perhaps receiving some pats on the head. What did this say about me? This girl had nothing, and had no reason to care for me, and yet here she was – offering to give up what little she had to make me more comfortable. Were the people who lived on this sham earth truly shams themselves? Was I so misplaced, so cowardly that a woman could show more bravery in the face of hardship than I felt I ever could? What sort of fellow was I?

“I know I don't have to, Mister Zobeck,” she said gently, stroking her pokémon's short fur. “I want to. You may seem a little silly, and a little dense, but I can see how dirty and troubled you seem. This war's taking all our boys and subjecting them to a world of horror. The papers and everyone says it's all for a good cause – we really can't let the fascist states get away with it, can we? - but I've seen the newsreels, and I've seen the men themselves. War changes people...and if kindness is what is needed to remind our boys they're still human, then I am all for it. After all, it's what I would wish for my Christopher.”

“Call me Lester, please.” What more could I say than that? If I had any additional words, I could not bring them to the forefront of my mind – my own problems and desire to find my way back home seeming as insignificant as a housefly compared to this woman's feelings.

“Lester, then.” She smiled slightly, resting her head against Espeon's. “Do sleep well, Lester. And in the morning, we can try to find your base...” Closing her eyes, she said no more, and soon her breathing slowed as her mind drifted off into the realm of dreams.

Yet despite my own exhaustion, sleep managed to elude me as I lay upon the girl's bed, staring up at the ceiling as the plusle snoozed in a ball against my neck; as I was feeling too moody to bother throwing it to the floor. The worn asbestos tiles above me were riddled with cracks, and I couldn't help comparing them to my own soul as I reflected upon all that had happened. Was everything that was happening to me God's way of trying to teach me something about what bravery really was? Had I been allowed to flee the light because it wasn't meant to be my time? And if I was being taught a lesson, could I ever hope to learn it? I can't be brave! I thought furiously, clenching my fists from the vigor of my own emotion. How can I hope to be anything when I can't even control the only weapon I have? Why couldn't I have just died a coward? Why do I even have to go through this?

Damn you, world! Damn you all!

“Plaaaaaaa...” Awakened, the miserable little monster sat upon the small of my neck, resting one forepaw hesitantly upon my chin as it peered into my eyes, its ears pricked attentively. Its look reminded me of a neighborhood dog from when I was growing up; a friendly little Rover who'd follow any boy he could find until that boy would stop to romp with him. “Starved for attention,” my mother would always say of that particular canine, and my hostess' words from earlier in the night concerning this particular beast had been exactly the same. It wouldn't kill you to give Plusle some love.

Why should I? I thought in response to the memory, closing my eyes so I didn't have to look at creature in question. It's hideous! If I must have one of these pokémon, all I want it to do is attack people for me. And Joy never said anything about the filthy creature having to like me in order to do that.

But what if this was part of the test? Could learning to trust these strange new creatures be part of what I need to find my courage? But I don't even like them...even if this is a test, why should I have to? What good would it do me in the end? Once I go home, I wouldn't ever have to deal with any silly pokémon ever again – least of all demonic rabbits!

“Plaplapla...” The little animal chittered again, scratching at the worn collar about its neck with its good hind paw. I squinted, noticing suddenly that a folded square of paper had been tucked in between the collar and its neck. Perhaps it was some type of instruction manual? Thoughtful of Joy to include that, I pondered wryly, as I carefully pulled the paper out from behind the collar and unfolded it, squinting in the faint moonlight to make out the writing upon it.

HOMEFRONT COLLECTIVE COPY FOR REFRENCE. KEEP ON FILE

October 3, 1941

Miss Mary Ardale

Violet City, Johto

Dear Miss Ardale:

This is to advise you that your plusle, Bernedette, has been called into the Pokémon Corps of the Nippon Collective Territories' Armed Forces.

If you wish to enlist Bernedette, please advise by return mail and we will send a Premier Capsule express prepaid to your express agent. Place Bernedette in the capsule and return via your local Pokémon Center to the server of Pokémon for Defense at Viridian City, Kanto.

After a physical examination, and if she passes, Bernedette will be sent on to one of the largest training centers in Kanto where she will be well-trained by the finest Pokémon Trainers in Kanto, and she will probably be overseas within four to six months. It is understood if she should not pass her examination, she will be sent to the Homefront Collective prepaid. However, it is most likely she will pass, and she will be sent on to one of the finest pokémon training centers in the world.

When the war is over and you have had an opportunity to learn first-hand from the soldiers who have benefited by these trained war pokémon, you will realize what a splendid contribution you have made toward your country's welfare in time of war.

Sincerely,

POKEMON FOR DEFENSE INC.

P.S. Please notice the specifications. You will note that Shining Pokemon are not acceptable and will be donated to the Homefront Collective or euthanized.

(Plusle standards.)

Age - 14 months to 3 years

Color - Normal fur tones

Weight - 9# or over

Height - 8" at shoulder.

It's a form letter, I thought, my eyes aching from reading the typewritten missive in the dark. And if this was a copy belonging to the Homefront Collective - whatever that is – than it's obvious this pokémon failed its training or had something wrong with it. No wonder it was free for Joy to give it to me...though it's not as if I needed any further proof you were worthless, little monster. Sighing, I crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it into a corner, trying to shut it out of my mind. A worthless monster for a worthless man.

Fate, must you hate me?

I am not certain when it was that night that I had managed to fall asleep, but it felt like no time at all before a rough tongue and an emphatic pair of paws against my cheeks roused me back into the land of the living.

“Plaaaa-ahhhh!”

“Get off me,” I grumbled, swatting the annoying little creature to the floor and rubbing my eyes wearily. The world outside the window still looked dark and still, and a check of my pocket watch confirmed that it was much too early for any but the most mad of men to be out and about. “Three in the morning? You woke me at three in the morning?” Grumbling, I let my head fall back to my pillow, hoping to resume my shut-eye. All I needed was some nice, long...

“Eeeeeee!” The shrill cry of my hostess' espeon jolted me back into alertness, and I jumped out of the bed, scrambling for the drawstring to switch on the light bulb. If those pokémon were making such a racket...I remembered the words of the girl as we had walked along the street. Kanto's just as vulnerable to attack...I carry Espeon for protection...I hope you trained your plusle...

Oh, no, oh God, oh no...this could only mean one thing.

An air raid was coming!