Pokemon Rusty x Red

A Different Kind Of Journey Begins

When Rusty woke up, he was in someone else's bed. He sighed.

"Have I been kidnapped again? Wait... Pikachu? PIKACHU!?" Where was his beedrill!? His pockets were empty... All of his pokemon were gone! And more importantly, where was his wallet? He had his dad's credit card in there. How would he be able to buy brunch balls and stationar-

"Oh, are you awake?" Rusty froze. He knew that voice... granted, he had only heard it a few times on interviews, and he rarely spoke then anyway, but Rusty knew that voice anywhere. His head whirled to the door. There was Red, his hero, his idol, holding a glass of water and a cool wet cloth.

"OH. MY. GOSH." he said, before fainting, his head hitting the pillow again with a soft thud, glasses knocked askew. Red, surprised, stood there a moment before chuckling at the kid's reaction. It was a rich, throaty sound, with a hint of a rasp- he couldn't remember the last time he had laughed. When you became strong, strong enough to decimate cities and summon blizzards and hurricanes, strong enough that no one who stood against you lasted longer than 5 minutes, it was as though the colour faded from your surroundings. Everything was so dull now. Blue had been the last person who gave him thrills when he was battling, but now he was too busy training the other members of his gym to train his own pokemon up to the level Red had.

He walked into the room, setting the glass of water on the dresser and the cloth on the boy's forehead. He pulled up a chair beside the bed, picking up the cell phone he'd taken out of the boy's pocket so that it wouldn't be crushed, and noticed that it didn't have a password. Didn't he know that was dangerous? But he was kid after all. Heh.

Okay... So his name was Rusty. He came from Beige Town. Where was that? His only contacts consisted of Mom, Dad... and Professor Tree. What kind of pokemon did he have? Red opened the small backpack Rusty had been carrying and shuffled around in it until he found six pokeballs. He opened the first one. A zubat that had fainted. The second one. A dead Vanillite. A dead Growlithe. A pile of dead Bidoofs that was giving off a faintly rancid odor of decay. Red immediately returned them all to their Pokeballs, his heart beating fast with a horror he had never felt before. The fifth was disabled Snorlax. And the last was a chicken panini that looked as though it had gone bad... Was that even possible?

Red was thoroughly shocked and appalled. What was this kid!? He was dangerous! He couldn't be released to society and the pokemon world! What on Earth were his parents teaching him!? What was Professor Tree teaching him!? He had to call this kid's parents immediately! And also probably the insane asylum would be a good idea.

He picked up the cell phone and pressed the CALL DAD button. The phone rung for a good thirty seconds before going to message.

"Hey there, this is the owner of Beige Town Bakery! Sorry, I can't come to the phone right now, since I am currently on a sweet (and well deserved) vacation celebrating the the removal of the tumor that had been killing me, by my son, Rusty! Oh, by the way, he's missing right now. So if you see him, please give us a call! *Beep*"

"..." Red hung up without a word. His parents seemed so nonchalant about the disappearance of their son! Maybe that's why his mind was so twisted... and yet, at the same time, he seemed like such a sweet, innocent kid. He didn't seem like he'd intentionally hurt people or Pokemon. Could he actually not have any idea what he was doing? Then again, there were those mentally ill children that you read about or saw on the news, who looked all cute but turned out to be murderers. As he pondered this, a hand reached up and gently poked his face.

"You're real! This is real! Right!?" Rusty gasped excitedly, "Can I take a picture with you, Mr. Red!? Please!?" All doubts about the kid being a psychopath were completely wiped from his mind and Red laughed at Rusty's genuine, childish eagerness.