Jack Preston
Cianwood Pokemon Centre
Some time late at night
Shit. Jack shook his arm a few times, but the PokeGear's display remained blank. Must've short-circuited in the last few hours. Damn Rockets owed him a new one.
Jack shook his head to try and regain focus - since when did he think in swears so much? Maybe since Fists and Sam's Eevee, alongside several of the group's other Pokemon, had been admitted to the emergency room and it was a tense time. Citrus yawned next to Jack's head and he absently reached out to pat it, forgetting that his friend was intangible.
"Having some trouble with that?" Kent asked from the doorway. Jack spent a few more seconds trying to touch Citrus before he realised how tired he was. "How's Fists?" Kent asked as he stepped further into the room.
"Surviving," Jack said with a yawn. "The nurses reckon he'll be alright in a couple of days - all that means is I'll have to forfeit the tournament." As if to reinforce this notion, Fists, laid out on the bed in front of them, raised a fist and cheered triumphantly.
"Sucks," Kent said with a slight pout. "I wanted to see you and Tyler go at it."
"Tyler's my next opponent?" Jack exclaimed. "Well, there's no big loss then. I've seen him battle and a Zubat could see that I don't stand a chance against him."
Kent shrugged. "Still would've been cool. Where's Sam?"
Kent knocked on Sam's door. A few seconds passed before Sam's voice answered them. "Come in."
They pushed the door open to see Sam rubbing her face: when she finally looked up at the guys her eyes were red. Jack was about to ask about Eevee when Kent blurted out, "Have you been crying?" The glare she gave him reminded Jack of when he'd first met the two of them.
"How's Eevee?" he asked before she could attack Kent either verbally or physically. Her shoulders drooped and she sighed.
"It's OK," she muttered, turning back to the bed. The tiny Eevee lay unconscious, but visibly breathing and even twitching. The three of them sat staring at the baby for a while: there really wasn't much else to say.
"Mr Preston?" Jack shot out of his seat. That nurse had totally ninja-ed up behind him.
"W-what?" he managed to stutter.
"Sorry," she replied. "I need to talk to you about your Makuhita. Could we go back to your room?" Jack nodded, wide-eyed. What was wrong with Fists? He completely forgot about Kent and Sam as he wandered out of the room after the nurse.
"When we said Makuhita would be all better in a few days... well, with what we've discovered since then that may no longer be the case -"
"What's wrong with Fists?" Jack interrupted. The nurse hesitated.
"I'm afraid... that your Pokemon has contracted an extreme dose of the Pokerus."
"The Pokerus?"
"The Pokerus itself is a sort of tiny microbe that latches onto a Pokemon. It's all quite complicated, but the effect is that the Pokemon's growth rate improves."
Jack tilted his head. "So, what's the problem then?"
"Well. That scenario is with a normal strain of the virus, which causes the Pokemon's abilities to grow faster, at the cost of shortening their lifespan by a minor degree, about three hours. However, you were fighting Team Rocket, am I right?" She paused to let Jack nod. "We have reason to believe their scientists have developed a more powerful strain which amplifies both effects - a Pokemon grows much stronger almost instantly, but will probably die within a week. They must have infected a Pokemon of their own before battling yours... and, well, the Pokerus is highly contagious."
Jack sat still in his seat, barely breathing. "... Are you alright, Mr Preston?" the nurse asked.
Jack snapped back to reality. "Uh... yeah."
"Now, we may be able to eliminate the virus, which would cure Makuhita. But the process could take a while, weeks or even months, and unfortunately we can't guarantee we'll be able to save him."
Jack forced himself to nod and thank the nurse, and when she left he locked the door, laid his head down on Fists' bed and bawled his fucking eyes out.
Gender:
Points: 240
Reviews: 53