Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoy. If you REALLY like it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.
I'm getting my ass kicked by this illness, but nevertheless, the fight begins.
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The storm raged. The pouring rain and undulating sea meeting in the dark and becoming indistinguishable, briefly revealed by the bluish-white cracks of thunder that rent the sky asunder and bathed the world in black and white.
The battle intensified. The S.S. Anne shook and creaked from more than just the waves. Two lines of Trainers – the crew and the boarding Team Rocket – met furiously in the middle of the deck, fire, lightning, water, and everything in between flying back and forth. Over to the side, an even more intense, if smaller, fight was playing out, two Executives throwing down with some powerful, mysterious Trainer.
None of it mattered.
Proton was a handsome man. It was somewhat startling to realise that I'd never had the chance to really look at him. Yet – in the second that stretched an eternity – I had to admit. He struck quite the figure, white uniform contrasting starkly with the black horizon, his pose casual despite the hectic surroundings, oozing confidence.
-I had a moment to see slanted teal eyes wide open in panic, pale skin glistening with sweat, and hair of the same green color partly covered by a black cap-
It was quite a difference from when we last met.
Hands were grabbing me, and voices were speaking, yet it was just so… faint.
"Handle the others." Even my own words were distant, my limbs wooden and moving on their own as I tore free from the grasp of my friends, feet pounding across the deck as I was suddenly sprinting. The Grunts in my way tried to stop me, but I must either have given a command, or my team simply understood my stupidity well by that point. Regardless, the obstacles in my path found themselves bowled over by Betty charging like a Rampardos, headfirst, a burning wheel of fire that was Sol by her side as they cleared the way.
And then, after years of dreaming, he was in front of me. I don't remember swinging my sword, yet when the green hexagons of a Protect leapt up to shield him, it felt like I was the one getting stabbed.
"PROTON!"
"Greetings!" He sounded almost cheerful, hand on his hat to prevent it from blowing away. "You say my name with such familiarity. Have we met?" A large purple head with half-lidded eyes and one hell of an underbite floated into view, seemingly unbothered by maintaining the Protect. Vents covered the Weezing, my eyes burning, and bile rising in my throat at the rank stench. The Poison-Type shifted, the smaller, secondary head meeting my eyes as a brightly burning Ember so dense it almost resembled a Flamethrower was blocked. "Oh! You are the Trainer of that very nice Growlithe! What was your name, Perspiration, or something? Not that it matters."
It was pure luck and Herc pulling me back that allowed me to avoid in time for something purple to shoot past me faster than I could register. Slowing down, four wings on a spherical body became distinct as the Crobat circled overhead, casually vanishing and taking down a Fearow that came a little too close. His shadow wavered, such a pitch black that it stood out even against the darkness. Two red eyes shone balefully, an unnaturally wide maw of fangs stretching. "Thank you for bringing it all this way, but I will take it from here. I would be a poor host if I allowed you to do all the work, no?"
I didn't even have the capacity for words, screaming in mindless rage as I threw myself at the Executive.
—-
Gramps had always been reluctant to tell him about the war. He'd never understood why. Even with the limited information that he had, Gary knew that his grandfather had been a hero.
He finally understood.
"Missile!"
Gary couldn't fucking believe it as Squirty retreated into his shell and flew into a Poochyena that thought it was clever. The Dark-Type was knocked out on the spot, much to the vocal dismay of its piece of shit, terrorist Trainer. Even still, Gary flinched at the sound of bones breaking and labored breathing, doing his best not to look at the still bodies and blood that surrounded them and only accumulated the longer the battle went on.
How had the traumatized psychopath actually been fucking right? How had he known they were going to be attacked?
Gary wasn't sure whether to classify that as Peri's usual Victini-level luck or absolute garbage.
As he watched, a Rocket's Golbat decided that its comrades were acceptable collateral and furiously beat its wings to unleash a barrage of Air Cutter slashes. The wooden deck was ripped to pieces, multiple Pokémon from both sides going down with cries that would haunt his nightmares as blood gushed from the deep cuts. His heart lurched into his throat as Squirty barely managed to turn around in time to tank the Flying-Type move with his shell and still ended up with a pair of deep grooves in the near-steel-hard armor.
It barely felt better when his Wartortle's returning Ice Beam froze the bat's left wing, and it plummeted from the air, only to be intercepted by Gary's Raticate as it leapt up and caught its throat between glowing incisors.
Gary turned his head away just in time, bile on his tongue at the wet sound of the Hyper Fang finishing the Golbat off.
No, it was definitely horrific luck.
He'd known that even weak Pokémon could be deadly, and it wasn't like he'd thought Peri was lying about Team Rocket's cruelty, yet to see it firsthand…
It was a horrible thought, especially when it was Gary himself who had dragged Raticate into it, but the casual violence the rat was engaging in only made him more resolved to send it back to Gramp's Reserve. Clefairy filled the Normal-Type slot better anyway, and Raticate was starting to hit a limit with its training.
Mew, how he wished he had Graveler with him. The Rock-Type's durability would've gone a long way towards putting him at ease. But, unfortunately, he'd fucked that up earlier. He knew he shouldn't have pushed her so hard; however, the thought of losing to Peri when they were so close…
Stupid, arrogant. But how the fuck was he supposed to know that he'd be in the middle of a fucking war?
"Starmie, Rapid Fire! Staryu, Defense!"
A storm of condensed balls of water, held together with a faint purple Psychic aura, bombarded the enemies as the Water/Psychic-Type levitated a little over the deck and started spinning, a blob of liquid gathering at the point of the top-most arm and being launched before the next appendage came back up. It wasn't a very strong attack, but then, neither were the Rockets. Scores of them fell, Pokémon and Trainers alike diving behind their unconscious comrades and using them as shields, the absolute fucking scumbags.
Meanwhile, the Staryu blocked what little managed to make it around Starmie's assault with liberal use of Rapid Spin and Protect to shield the stupid-haired Waterflower. It seriously grated to admit, but she might – potentially, perhaps – be contributing more than Gary himself was.
"Ash, take Charles and Mindy and reinforce the left side!"
"You got it, Brock! Come on, guys, they need our help!"
He felt like a spectator as the squinty-eyed rock-humper took charge of coordinating the defense. A massive shadow curled behind them, a scraping bellow emerging from the throat of the Onix as it did its best to help Staryu keep everyone safe, the wooden planks splintering under its weight. Meanwhile, a front line of melee fighters was gathered, Peri's beast of a Bagon in the heart of it all as she wounded and maimed left and right. She wasn't actually listening to Brock, but the former Gym Leader was planning around her. His Geodude guarded the Dragon-Type's flanks, leaving the brute free to tear into the primarily first-stage evolutions that the dirtbag thieves had probably ripped from the hands of some sniffling child.
Behind the physical fighters, the ranged battlers were rounded up, firing beams and jets of elemental energy into the Rocket formation – if the mindlessly charging horde could be called such. Finally, in the very back, the Trainers stood, Gary among them, reduced to a bystander as his team did most of the fighting on its own.
Fuck, even the loser was helping out. As soon as he got the order, he was off, running down to hold the side that threatened to fold.
Leaving Gary behind to aimlessly hold his dick, unable to even stop trembling, too scared to move, while everyone around him risked their lives. People he'd sneered at and mocked now had to look after him like an infant, just as Peri did in the corridors.
Fucking pathetic.
"Ariana, the center!"
"Fuck off, I'm busy!"
Hearing the obnoxiously haired prick that Peri had headed straight for – Proton, presumably. At least fucker looked stupid enough for the name. Glancing in the direction of the woman who responded, for a brief moment, Gary found himself mesmerized. Not by 'Ariana', though the white-uniformed woman had quite the pair of hips on her, but by her opponent.
Thunder boomed, the flash of light illuminating the blue bandana of the large, muscled man with his arms crossed casually, like they weren't on a sinking ship filled with murderers and scumbags. In front of him, a large blue, white, and black Pokémon levitated back and forth, water swirling around it calmly. The analytic part of Gary's mind that Gramps had spent years trying to foster noted the thick scars across the rough, sandpaper-like skin and the large tears in three out of four fins. The blank, almost dead eyes above a blood-dripping mouth of overlapping, interlocking teeth was disconcerting, but nobody had ever enjoyed making eye contact with a Sharpedo.
The rest of Gary was busy feeling a mix of envy and awe as the Water/Dark-Type held off a whole horde by itself, including Ariana's and another white clad Rocket leader's.
"Have to do everything myself," Proton mumbled to himself, wiping rain off his face with a sigh. "Sorry, kid, but it would seem that I have to end playtime here. Good subordinates are so hard to find."
Focusing back, Gary was just in time to see the hulking Weezing groan and open its ugly mouth, ass-gas spewing out in a purple cloud that Peri and his team frantically dodged backwards to avoid. As they did so, a cackling wraith with crimson eyes rose from Sol's shadow. Clawed hands of solidified miasma corroded the bright yellow pelt as they grasped the canine's sides, a painful howl lost in the rain and combat. An enormous tongue unfurled from the fanged maw, the Gengar uncaring as a Swift, a cluster of Water Bullets, and a wildly spinning sword passed through its body. Instead, it slurped loudly as it licked up the Growlithe's back, the vibrant fur dying and sticking to the tongue on the spot as the Fire-Type froze, paralyzed in one of the most awful ways possible, before vanishing in a red light as he was recalled.
"Gary, the Poochyena are starting to look weak! On my mark-Gary? GARY!?"
It was Brock, more than his own actions, that made Gary aware that he was running. Rockets turned in his direction, sensing weakness, but acting with that synchronicity that he'd heard stories about yet rarely, if ever, actually achieved, his team was suddenly with him.
Maybe it was their presence that gave him the balls to recruit some aid.
"OI, MORON!"
He pulled back his hand from the slap to the back of Behemoth's head as the limp body of a Zubat was spit out, and jaws the size of his skull snapped closed inches from him. The Dragon-Type shrieked after him as she ground her foot into a Magnemite, cracks spreading over the Steel-Type's body.
"Not me, idiot, him! Get!" The Bagon looked in the indicated direction right as the circling Crobat swooped down with all four wings glowing, shining with the energy of Steel Wing. Peri's Elekid tried to push him aside again; however, Gary's heart skipped a beat as blood spurted into the air, a cut running across Hercule's back and Peri's chest.
Thankfully, based on how quickly they were on their feet, it wasn't instantly deadly. And with the way the red-haired boy's mouth was moving and Proton's eyebrow raised, he was quite angry.
Like Trainer, like Pokémon.
Gary tried to hide it, but Betty was scary even on her best day. Something about the way she looked at him made him sure that if she could get away with it, she would eat him on the spot.
At that moment, though, she was truly terrifying.
Her pupils shrank down to pinpricks, a tiny slit of black on bloodshot white. The love of carnage that she usually embodied vanished, and it was only when she unleashed a bowel-loosening roar, accompanied by a plume of dragonfire that cleared both part of the deck and, briefly, the sky, that he realised that he'd never actually seen her angry.
And as she crouched before leaping much further than something her size had any right to, there was no doubt that she was furious.
Proton looked to the side as the last green-blue embers reached him. "Wha-" his eyes widened as a screeching Bagon fell from the sky with a short, glowing arm cocked back and murder in every fiber of her being. The Weezing put the Protect back up just in time as the Fighting-Type move hit the barrier with a sound like a gong.
And cracks spreading over the shield.
CREE-CRACK!
The Brick Break fought against the Protect for a second before it shattered like glass, green shards hanging in the air for a moment as the arm plowed through and hit Weezing head-on. Proton didn't have time to protest before his foul-smelling balloon bowled him over, and they rolled across the deck, unhinged Dragon-Type hot on their heels.
Meanwhile, Gary managed to make it to Peri's side right as the boy used his reclaimed sword to cut his shirt into strips and used them to bandage his chest wound and another on his shoulder and triceps. He had to suppress a small gag at all the blood, even as the hammering rain washed it away as soon as it emerged.
"Gary, go back to the others-"
"Shut the fuck up! I'm not gonna watch you die just because of your thick skull!" His voice was embarrassingly high-pitched, yet there was nothing for it. He couldn't just stand by; he couldn't. Not when people were dying all around him, and the guy who mentally fucked up his friend was right there, trying to do the same shit again.
Maybe, if they beat Proton, the rest would surrender or retreat. Maybe he could tell them everything they needed to take down the whole operation.
Maybe then, Peri could finally start healing.
"That's not-LOOK OUT!"
Thanks to Peri's warning, they sidestepped in time for a giant Bagon to come rolling by them, screaming in hatred all the while. Emerging from where they'd been tossed, Proton stomped back towards them, Weezing in tow with a big-ass bruise on the main head of the Poison-Type. The Team Rocket Commander, on the other hand, was soaked through, his clean uniform smeared with blood and dirt. He wiped furiously at the stains before giving up, glaring at Gary and Peri with murder in his eyes. Blood was thinned by the rain as it ran from his eyebrow, and his pretentious hat had been lost somewhere.
"You fucking brats. I was trying to be a nice guy, but for that, I will make it hurt. You!" He pointed to Peri, a snarl curling his thin lips. As an expert provocateur, Gary felt a sense of professional pride at seeing the fucker's facade shatter. "Where did you get that Bagon!? Huh!? Were you on the Orange Islands!?"
"Suck my dick, bitch!" Atta boy, Peri.
"I will make you spill your secrets then, along with your guts. Let us see how snarky you are when surrounded by corpses!" Taking a PokéBall from his belt, Proton released his fourth Pokémon. At first sight, Gary recognised the blueish-gray skin and reptilian features of a Machoke. But while normal Machoke were muscular, they didn't look like they were about to rip out of their skin. Nor were they panting like they were dying and had eyes so bloodshot they were almost pure red.
What in the world did they do to it?
"Kill the kids!"
Gary only had a second to register how fucked up that sentence was before the situation exploded into violence.
The juiced-up Machoke roared and moved, the floorboards splintering under each lumbering step. It was more of a series of leaps than running, the Fighting-Type bounding towards them with the Gengar in tow. Squirty, Growly, Raticate, Hercules, and Betty rushed forward to meet the Machoke as a storm of elemental energy plowed towards the ghost, who simply sank into the shadows with a cackle.
Gary's eyes widened as the Machoke swung an arm, the rain visibly bending to the side from the air pressure as the appendage nearly disappeared from how fast it was moving. The long wind-up and heavy telegraphing gave Squirty enough time to retreat into his shell, and yet, fragments burst from the tough carapace as it shattered upon impact. The sideways direction of the blow was the only reason the Water-Type didn't plow down through the deck, and Gary was still forced to watch his Wartortle hit the control tower and collapse the whole wall before he could recall the unconscious turtle.
Back at the fight, the Machoke was roaring with every blow, arms swinging wildly as it tore apart everything in sight. Gary's own Pokémon were smart enough to back away and use ranged attacks, Raticate bidding its time to act, yet Peri's madmen stayed in there. Gary winced in sympathy as the Elekid's left arm snapped like a twig upon trying to divert one of Machoke's own appendages, the Electric-Type whirring in pain. However, despite the amount of pain the yellow humanoid must've been in, that didn't stop it from taking advantage of the larger Pokémon stumbling from the force of its own attack. A Hammer Arm smacked into its left knee with the sound of a Pyro grenade going off, the deadly jaws of Betty snapping closed around the other thigh. It failed to do much, Machoke's steel-esque muscles protecting it from the worst until he kicked the two off and halfway across the ship, but it did expose a weakness.
Whatever move or stimulant they'd pumped the Fighting-Type up on, it wasn't used to it. Meaning there was an opening after it attacked.
Speaking of openings, though.
"HAAA!"
"HOLY FUCK!"
Somehow, Peri, the insane bastard, had snuck through the chaos and gotten within Weezing's guard, taking a swing at Proton. The very tip of his sword bit into Proton's cheek, carving a wound across his aristocratic cheekbone and the bridge of his nose, before the red-haired boy was forced to run away to avoid a Body Slam from the dual-headed Poison-Type.
"Arrggh, you fucking brats! Will you just die already!?"
Not if they had anything to say about it. Their Trainer almost getting his head lopped off distracted Proton's Pokémon, even penetrating through Machoke's drug haze, and they turned to look.
That was all the opportunity Raticate needed.
The Normal-Type blazed with a Quick Attack as it pushed off the deck, leaping through the air as the energy shifted to its mouth, front teeth glowing brightly as they seemed to grow even larger. Raticate couldn't sustain Quick Attack like Peri's Elekid could, but all it needed was a boost and Hyper Fang would do the rest. The rat flew through the air, over its comrades and directly towards Machoke's throat. Despite his earlier thoughts, Gary held his breath and hoped that it would be the killing blow-
-as Raticate's shadow passed over the overlapping ones beneath it, a black mass shot up and intercepted it. The large rat snapped its huge front teeth together threateningly, kicking and writhing, yet the Gengar holding it only squeezed tighter.
"A Raticate? How pedestrian. Gengar, do the young Oak a favor and clean out his trash."
Gary screamed at his team to do something, Peri doing the same and even charging in with his blade up, Gary hot on his heels, ready to punch the Ghost. Growly, Gary's own Growlithe, unleashed an eye-shearingly bright Flamethrower, steam erupting as the rain evaporated, yet it was easily avoided. Clefairy crackled with electricity, branching bolts of thunder cracking through the air, but the Weezing simply floated forwards to block it all.
The close-range fighters were all too far away to do anything as the Gengar's arm de-solidified into toxic miasma before shooting down Raticate's throat. Purple veins stood out instantly under the brown fur, the Ghost-Type dropping the Raticate and reforming its arm as the rat seized on the ground, flopping around like a Magikarp on land. It felt like an Ekans was wrapped around Gary's heart as pink foam leaked from his Normal-Type's mouth, and it snapped its own spine from the violent spasms.
Though that was nothing compared to the pain he felt when Raticate finally went still.
—-
It might've been a feeling of kinship, or maybe guilt. No matter the reason, the absolutely heart-wrenching scream Gary let out as his Raticate stopped twitching and went limp did a lot to bring me back to my senses.
For all that it mattered. By the time I finally made it to the Gengar, there was nothing to be done for Raticate.
The bisected upper body of the Gengar slowly rotated in mid-air to face me, revealing the deadpan expression on the Ghost-Type. An expression that didn't fade even as my sword passed through its head a dozen times, crisscrossing lines patching together as quickly as they formed, until I was forced to accept that it wasn't doing anything. The huge eyes moved from me to the half-melted blade in my hands, warped and discolored, and back to me with the most 'you serious?' energy I'd ever seen on a Ghost-Type.
Though it took it a little more seriously when Betty popped up behind it with her wide-open maw gleaming darkly with a Bite and chomped down on the Gengar. A horribly hoarse, whining cry – like a baby that had been chain-smoking for a decade – left the specter as it was forced into corporeal form by the Dark-Type energy.
"Siren!"
A trio of Water Guns pierced the Ghost before it forced Betty off of it with a clawed hand dripping with Distortion, but unfortunately, that was all we had time for before we were back on the run, Shadow Balls exploding in our wake. A crackling Thunderbolt and a steaming Flamethrower helped us out briefly, but Clefairy and Growly were soon forced to focus on themselves as Machoke was quickly on them.
I hated to admit it, but shit was looking bleak. Gary was down to just his Clefairy and Growlithe. I was doing slightly better, with Siren, Hercules, Betty, and Eevee still up; however, that w-
"EEE!"
-a small, furry shape hit me in the ribs, knocking the breath out of me and making me stumble. Something blew past me at speed, barely missing my neck, before it was gone again, Eevee yipping in pain as I caught her before she could hit the ground. I didn't bother inspecting the long wound that the flying assassin Crobat left behind, recalling her as quickly as I could get the ball out.
Scratch that, I guess. We were down to just five Pokémon.
At least the battle against the Grunts was going well, I noticed. The front line was being pushed back towards us faster and faster, with gaps starting to appear. At some point, the seemingly endless tide of Team Rocket that had been pouring over the railing had slowed and ceased.
Okay, if we could just hold out until the others got done, then we could team up and fuck Proton in the ass-
"PERI!"
-I got distracted. At some point, while I'd been overlooking the rest of the ship, Gengar and Machoke had switched places in a maneuver I hadn't thought the Fighting-Type had the mental capacity to pull off. The hulking brute was panting, muscles twitching as whatever was wrong with it tore its body apart, yet it was still more than capable of lifting a hand and preparing to bring it down on my head.
"BAAEEEEE!"
500-ish pounds of affectionate murder reptile leapt up and grabbed the wrist in her mouth, using all her weight and strength to bring it back down. Betty's head whipped back and forth furiously, droplets of blood running down the blue-grey skin as she tried to rip the hand off.
But it wasn't enough. Machoke barely seemed to register the added resistance, dragging the Titan Bagon behind it as it stepped back up to me. I tried to move away, to run backwards, yet my foot slipped on the mixture of water and blood that coated the deck. I fell on my ass, unable to do anything as another hand, palm broader than my head and with enough strength to easily shatter my skull, rose and came thundering down.
"EEEEEEEEIIIIIII!"
Again, one of my Pokémon got in the way. Hercules, the Elekid, jumped in front of me and raised both oversized hands above his head and braced himself, catching Machoke's as it came down despite his broken arm.
Instantly, Herc's legs gave up and collapsed under him, knees hitting the wooden boards and snapping them with a splintering crack! He whirred furiously as the hand pressed down further and further, his elbows being forced to bend under the force as the point of his snapped bone pressed against his skin. Even with Betty doing her best to pull the other way, even with Siren using whatever energy she had left after all the fighting we'd been doing, Machoke still barely seemed to realise that they were there. That close, I could see the pupils under the extreme bloodshot, and they were wide enough to completely cover the whole iris, the Fighting-Type high out of its mind. It took another step forward, Betty's claws carving through the deck as she was forced along. I could hear Hercules' teeth crack with how hard he was biting them together, and his tendons popping as he demanded his body keep going, trying to muster enough strength to get us out of the situation.
But he couldn't. Even if I moved, no one could help. Gary was being hounded by Gengar, spittle flying from his mouth as slurs and curse words I'd never even thought of poured like the rain. Siren was already doing everything she could, and just didn't have the leftover energy.
As Machoke's hand touched Hercules' head and he whirred even louder, glowing brightly with electricity, it just wasn't enough. It was a damn good effort, but no Thunder Shock he could pull off would be enough. No matter how loudly or deeply he whirred, or how brightly he glowed, or how tall he got-
-wait, what?
Indeed, Machoke's hand was slowly being forced back upwards, not just because of strength, but because Hercules himself was moving upwards. Glowing a blinding white that illuminated the stormy darkness around us, and emitting a constant static sound that grew deeper in pitch, the humanoid form of the Elekid changed. He grew taller, going from a little under two feet to around three, and broader as well, shoulders widening as they flexed and strained. One leg rose from its crater, three clawed toes forming on the foot as it supported the longer, thicker leg, and then mirrored on the other side as the Electric-Type ended up crouched before me. The dual prongs on his head shrank and vanished, replaced by antennae with bulbous tips where a human's ears would be, two long tufts of fur emerging from the top of his head.
With one final screech, Hercules stood up and threw Machoke off him, the starlight of evolution fading as he hammered a fist into his opponent's chest. Spit flew from Machoke's mouth as it stumbled back, tripping over Betty and ending up on the deck.
I gaped up at the Electabuzz from the ground, taking in the yellow fur striped with black, except for the white parts where he still had his scars. There was a large, lightning bolt-shaped patch on the newly evolved Pokémon's chest, a V-shaped stripe on his forehead, a thick stripe down his back, two bands on the legs, and several broken bands on each arm. His new tail, long and with more black bands, whipped back and forth in agitation as sparks leapt over Hercules' new form.
The knuckles on his new, five-fingered hands popped as he moved forward, slightly awkwardly, given his new form, yet learning with every step. Coming over Machoke as it began to rise, Hercules fell so he straddled the broad, beefy chest, mouth wide open and panting. Despite his obvious exhaustion, he still raised a hand high, thunder crackling around it with an ease he'd never been capable of before, coating the fist completely from view before bringing the real, proper Thunder Punch crashing down on his enemy.
BAM!
And again.
BAM! BAM!
And again.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
He didn't stop until a beam of red light hit the Fighting-Type and sucked it back into its ball, Proton glaring at us as Hercules was left panting on the ground, too tired to even stand.
"That's what I get, bringing lab freaks to the field. Damn eggheads told me it was ready, but I should have fucking known better. Have to do everything my-fucking-self around here, useless, garbage, pieces of low-class trash…"
Muttering curses to himself, he reached down and grabbed a fifth PokéBall from his waist. The capture device was dented, and the paint was chipped, suggesting a long, arduous journey that I didn't think the Rockets went through with their team. I braised myself as he reared back, trying to mentally prepare for the one Pokémon I hadn't seen yet, and had been dreading-
-The ship shook in response. A deep, low rumble reverberated through the boat, like a hundred tigers growled at the same time.
-suddenly, Proton stopped and rummaged around in his pocket. Pulling out what I recognised as a PokéNav, he opened it and started speaking into it.
"This is Proton. Yes, Sir, just wrapping up now-no. No, that's not possible, the field is still up." The Executive glanced at his Gengar, who nodded. "Yes, Sir. No, I deployed it before any boots touched the deck. I do not understa-yes, Sir. Yes. Ye-WHAT! YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!"
I wanted to give Gary the benefit of the doubt and think he took the opportunity while Proton was distracted with whatever was happening on the other end of his call, but truth be told, I doubted Gary gave two fucks about how open Proton was or wasn't.
So, somehow, I found myself playing support, despite the same urge to murder flooding my body. Proton's team switched to defense, Gengar and Weezing releasing vast swaths of poisonous gases and headache-inducing Distortion that forced us back, Crobat swooping down at every opportunity to harass and keep us on our toes. Several times, I had to break off my own attack to pull Gary or one of his team members back when anger blinded them, and even without the freak of a Machoke, it was essentially impossible to break through.
Still, we kept at it. Maybe we could take him down before he spilled the beans too much.
"But, Boss, I believe I have located the Titan Dragon-Type we lost on the Orange Islands!"
Welp, fuck me, I guess.
"I-no, I do not have it in my possession, yet, but if you give me-yes, Sir, I do. Yes, we could, but I am looking right at it-yes, Sir. Yes, Sir… then tell him to delay them, or have that freak help us out!... what do you mean, it's not time!? What better time is there!? We've finally crawled from the shadows and have a chance to show the world that they cannot fuck with us! Boss!"
Proton's face was very red by the time he was finished spitting his words out. I still couldn't hear the other end of the conversation – presumably with Giovanni – over the explosions and general bedlam that had befallen the S.S. Anne, but I saw the rapidly shifting emotions flash across his expression as his eyes fell on me again, before he finally settled on pale and shut off. With one final mumbled "yes, Sir," he closed his PokéNav and lifted his hand to his mouth, pressing a button on a hidden microphone, much like Bill had, emotionlessly giving orders.
"Drop the Distortion Field and prepare for extraction. We're done."
Despite being faint, the words stabbed like an icepick into my brain, especially as the green-haired fuck started turning his back towards us, neck turning so that he could keep eye contact with me the whole time, only briefly flickering towards Betty as Weezing sent her sliding across the deck back to me and floated over to its Trainer.
"This is not over, boy."
Damn fucking right it wasn't.
"KILL HIM! KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIIIIIM!" Gary sounded fully deranged, spit flying as he screamed. Still, it was a great suggestion, and one we were all eager to follow. Cones of flames, both normal and dragon, jets of water and ice that froze the rain in their paths, all flew towards Proton as he kept backing away. Hercules whirred in his new, deeper tone as he somehow rose, arms blurring in circles as he crackled with electricity far beyond what he'd been capable of before his evolution. A blinding lance of thunder leapt from his new and taller frame while paws and feet pounded across the deck to try and close the distance in time.
The orange and black fur of Growly blurred as she hurled into the front, lips peeled back to show her teeth and nothing but blood on her mind. She glowed with a Quick Attack as good, if not better, than Hercules' and sprinted faster than Sol could muster. Flames sprang to life around her fangs as she jumped, the light reflecting off Proton's wet throat-
-when the teal-haired fuck blinked out of existence with a tiny wink of azure light.
In fact…
Looking around the S.S. Anne, I saw that all of a sudden, there was only something like a quarter of the people left on board. Every single Team Rocket member, whether conscious or not, alive or dead, Pokémon or human.
All were gone in that miniscule flash of icy blue. The defenders were caught flat-footed, Pokémon mid attack tumbling across the deck, elemental blasts dissipating harmlessly into the stormy night.
Speaking of, I looked up in confusion as the freezing droplets whipping against my skin calmed rapidly. Much, much too fast to be natural. High above, the swirling thunderclouds began visibly slowing, the illuminating cracks of thunder vanishing before our eyes.
For a brief moment, I swore the spiderweb of lightning flashed behind a figure floating in the sky, yet when I blinked the water out of my eyes, it was gone.
In the distance, amidst the calming waves, a light blinked on and off, slowly growing larger.
It… it was over. It didn't feel real, my head fuzzy and everything seeming almost dreamlike, but…
We did it. We saved the S.S. Anne.
I watched as Gary collapsed to the deck, swiftly being surrounded by his team as they crowded around the body of Raticate.
Or what remained.
Yeah, what a win.
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Victory? I mean, it's better than canon.
Right?
I knew that I had to kill Raticate here, it just fits too well with canon.
Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed. If you REALLY liked it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.