-Sunrise: Refraction-

Author’s Notes: A tale that’s been in the making since 2001, under the title of just plain “Sunrise,” finally makes its return to this here vole pit (didya miss it:P ). Offline for much revision, it’s now back, and on the road to being better than ever. :)

There are a few things you should know before you start to read…

1. The earliest chapters were written over five years ago, and they might not be of the same quality as later chapters – the writing does get better as you progress, trust me :P

2. This fic contains Pokémorphs. If you don’t like Pokémorphs, you likely won’t enjoy this story, since one features as a rather major character.

3. This fic is written under the assumption that Poke-Earth is the same as Real Earth only with different fauna, more berries, and some new countries. If you don’t like real brand names, real people, real places and/or real historical events (but NOT real animals, mind you ;) ) being shown or mentioned, you likely won’t want to read on – I mention these sorts of things a lot, and one of the main characters is an Australian-American.

That said, I really hope you enjoy this story :) It really does hold a special place in my heart – this fic’s been my baby for over half a decade :) Also, thanks to Isfahan from Serebii for his support and beta-ing :) And thank you all too, for being willing to read!

-Metaphor-

“...but it lies,

Deep-meadow’d, happy, fair with orchard lawns

And bowery hollows crown’d with summer sea,

Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.” – Alfred, Lord Tennyson, “The Passing of Arthur”

In a heart lashed by winter winds, in a place where craggy mountains of despair overshadowed desolate plains where joy once lived, a bloody wound, ragged and torn at the edges with memories, stretched across where love had once been found. It was an ugly, hateful thing; a place of stark regret, scoured by whips of loneliness and almost desensitized by pain, walled away from small pleasures and simple kindness.

The woman who housed this heart looked like a happy one, a mother, with a nice house in a little seaside suburb. Inside the vista was a place where sadness hung like a dark cloud, leaving in shadow a cricket bat, a text on infant care, a picture of the son. The atmosphere was desolate, the walls never able to wrap a beam about a precious peal of the woman’s laughter. The son was the only bright spot, a son who was never home to know his mother’s misery.

In the kitchen was a table, always set one chair too many. The extra chair glowed mahogany, its leather seat still bearing the impression of buttocks and thighs, though none had sat there for many years.

As the woman cleaned, the hole in her heart screamed for the gentle feel of a man’s hands. The heart yearned, the house carried on its facade, and the extra chair sat at the table, warm leather shading its shadow a slight gold.

Prologue
The past is but the beginning of a beginning, and all that is and ever has been is but the twilight of the dawn. – H.G. Wells

---

1988. Fourteen years ago.

An echo of memory, a half-heard thought?

That first step; the step that began it all...

---

The young woman sat patiently in the waiting room of the city hospital, her body reclining gently into the vinyl backing of the lobby chair. She was eager, but at the same time content to stay right where she was. It was a nice, appealing room, with plenty of magazines of all the right kinds, comfortable, if not classy, black vinyl chairs and divans, and purplish-hued fluorescent lighting flickering slightly overhead. All was not as it seemed, however, as the woman may have seen if she had chosen to look further – the sewn-up tears in the vinyl, the dried up coffee stains on the magazine covers, the dust and filth entangled in the fibers of the cheery crimson throw rug.

“Mrs. Richards?”

The woman looked up as a handsome young intern, clipboard in hand, searched about the room. The glare reflected off his glasses, sending blocks and flecks of light scurrying about the floor and flitting across the tops of the woman’s shoes. She stood up gently, mindful of the life within her abdomen, and gingerly worked her way across the room to where the intern stood.

“There you are, Sara! The doctor is waiting for you - right through the double doors on your left.”

She thanked the intern and made her way through into the examination room, where the doctor sat upon a smooth varnished table, running his index finger over the stethoscope about his neck. He grinned as the young woman carefully made her way towards him.

“Hello Sara,” he said gently to his guest, the smile that he seemed to wear so honestly wavering slightly. “Are you feeling up to the tests today?”

Sara nodded, swallowing her anxiety. “I…I am.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right today?”

“Positive,” the woman replied, forcing a confident smile over her own features as the doctor patted her shoulder. “Yes,” he said softly, his eyes expressing both eagerness and discomfort. “We’d better begin, then.”

Sara knew she was a high-risk patient, despite all she did to hide it. She had heard she had possible placenta issues, and her twin children were constantly at risk for survival. Despite the odds, she was determined to see them live – so much that she and her husband had even picked out names.

Katherine and Kyle…

“I’m going to take a look at some sonogram images of your twins, check their heart rates, and make sure they’re all right, Mrs. Richards.”

A logical request, thought Sara, one that any Obstetrician could be expected to make. But…but what puzzles me is that every time I’ve had a check-up, I’ve never been allowed to see the sonogram results. They are my children! It’s within my rights to see them!

“Very well,” Sara said out loud, “but do you suppose…I might…well…actually get to see the sonogram images this time? My twins are precious to me…I’d like to watch as well, if it won’t trouble you.”

The doctor’s smile faded into oblivion, and a hard, chiseled look took its place. “I can’t do that, Sara. I’m the doctor here.” He lowered his voice to an almost frightening pitch, the gentle, sugary shell gone. “There are reasons I can’t allow you to view them, Sara. It may sound callous, but it is for your own good.”

The young woman clenched her fists angrily. A hint of suspicion awoke and blossomed in the back of her mind, spreading its petals wide and locking her trust away. “Listen, please! I want to see my children!”

“No!” The doctor shouted forcefully, crossing his arms across his chest. “Yes…I know that it is typically the custom to allow women to view their own sonogram images. But I’m afraid the view may trouble you, Sara, especially when more likely than not these infants are going to die. In vitro fertilization doesn’t always turn out the way we want it to.” The doctor’s voice had become kind and gentle once again, and a sympathetic expression now crossed his features. “I want to spare you the heartbreak, Mrs. Richards. You must understand that.”

Sara’s eyes brightened, and the blossom of suspicion closed its petals, leaving her mind bright. “Whatever…you feel is best. I trust you, Doctor.”

The doctor turned aside and began heating a tub of conductor jelly. “Everything will hopefully be okay, Sara. Your twins after all are very precious to me.” He nodded his head slowly, an eager light glimmering in his veiled grey eyes. “Yes. Very precious, indeed.”

---

Sara was resting calmly, the low drone of the doctor’s voice soothing her nerves and helping her to relax. Sighing, she leaned her head against the cool vinyl pad of the bed, her cheek sinking into the soft foam underneath. Not much longer here, and hopefully everything will end up all right…

Just as her eyes closed, somebody grabbed her hand.

“Sara.”

She awoke with a start, the face of her doctor looming over her. He was grinning; his face alit with a strange, joyful glow. “Your kids look fine so far. Oh yes, they look fine indeed.” He nodded, the edges of his mouth twitching slightly as he struggled to keep his expression passive. “Now, let’s go check their heart rates and get you out of here.”

Sara relaxed further, feeling she had little to fear in her future as the doctor hooked her up to the fetal heart monitor. His face seemed bored, but suddenly, a few minutes later, it took on a look of surprise.

“Sara! Sara, I was…I was wrong, Sara. It looks like your twins are in trouble! Their heart rates are dropping, fast!"

Upon hearing these words, the woman was numb with shock and fear. Oh God no…I’m going to lose my Katie and Kyle? Oh, it couldn’t really be so! Please don’t let it be so!

"We’ll have to pull a crash caesarian, Mrs. Richards. It’s our only hope for your twins. Hang in there!"

But Sara was listening no longer.

---

The crash caesarian had been a quick one, in medical terms. Sara gently raised her head and stared about, her vision blurry. Her abdomen, slightly numb and clumsy from the lingering effects of anesthesia, rose sluggishly up and down with her breaths.

Where are my babies? Did they live? Oh, God, you better had let them live!

Her doctor walked past her line of vision, a small bundle – a child? – nestled in his arms. Yes, it was an infant, almost totally obscured by blankets; the little girl turned about to face Sara, peering at her through milky baby eyes. The young woman caught the infant’s glance; pretty little thing, but a bit odd looking – the face was a little too pointy, and those eyes! She had never seen a child with eyes the color of honey – it was strange, alien, and almost feral…

Something’s wrong, something’s wrong…something must have gone terribly wrong…surely it must be someone else’s child? Not my own Katherine!

Sharp pain shot through her body like an arrow, and before Sara could think over the matter further, she was again unconscious.

---

The twins of Sara Richards were rushed into the preemie ward, her doctor handing them over to his cronies, warning the quavering interns with a cruel, steady glance. The children would have to stay at the hospital until the evening, when they could be safely delivered to the Viridian complex, and neither child – especially the girl – could be allowed to be closely observed by any of the uninvolved staff members. It may be a challenge, the doctor’s eyes told the interns, but it’s one I hope you’re up to.

Because if you’re not, not only will those innocents who see them die, but you will as well.

The interns shuddered and turned away from him, feigning sudden interest in a nearby incubator. The doctor, leaving them to their task, prowled out into the hallway, making his way to the maternity ward. He would have to call upon all his skills as an actor; he couldn’t afford any slip-ups. You must act the concerned doctor to Sara!

Sara lay on the bed like a rag doll, her brow wet and sticky with sweat, her eyes slightly glazed with pain. "Are they okay?" she asked of her doctor in a quavering, gentle voice. "My Kyle, my Katherine…will they live?"

The doctor took her hand, his face as morose and solemn as he could possibly make it when not feeling either emotion. With his other hand, he gently brushed a few strands of damp brown hair from her eyes, his fingers cool against her brow. "I’m sorry, Sara," he said as gently as he could, squeezing her hand in his. "I couldn’t save either of your children. We lost them. Both of them."

Sara cried out in agony, her strangled voice dripping with pain and hurt. “Both, Doctor Ketchum? I couldn’t have lost both…could I?”

The doctor nodded. “Both, Sara. I…I am truly sorry.”

Leaving the woman alone to mourn, he walked back into the hallway, his face alight with hopes and dreams. It was possible, then! The first important step in his life had been taken, and now, he hoped, it would lead to others…