Hello, and welcome to Identity Crisis. This is the tale of a nameless boy who lives under the Witness Protection Program in the world of Pokemon. All he wants to be is a Pokemon Trainer but for the past six years he's been unable to follow his dreams since the marshalls believe he is still in danger. He puts in place a plan to help him escape the clutches of the Marshall service to become what he's truly destined to be, even if it may just get him killed.
Table of Contents:
ARC I: Escape from Unova
Chapter One: What Children Dream Of
Chapter Two: Pinwheel Forest Mayhem
Chapter Three: The Name Game
Chapter Four: Win-Loss Ratio
Chapter Five: Goodbye, Halcyon Days
ARC II: For a Badge
Chapter Six: Leap of Fate
Chapter One: What Children Dream Of
"Lose your dreams and you will lose your mind. Ain't life unkind?"
-The Rolling Stones
When I was no older than ten, I had dreams. Like most kids my age I wanted to be a Pokemon trainer. I wanted to make a name for myself. Take on the Gym Challenge and if I got lucky, the Elite Four. I didn't want to be another trainer that would slowly disappear into the sidelines. Unfortunately for me, I never got the chance to prove myself to the world when my life was turned upside down and my dreams became nothing but.
July 14th had barely begun when I had decided to go downstairs for a drink. I spent a long time in bed wondering if I should go downstairs into the darkness and risk getting a drink. I was afraid of being downstairs alone. I was convinced that there were Haunter living in the shadows but my parents reassured me it was nothing more than my imagination playing tricks on me and I sure hoped it was. Of course, that didn't fully convince me that there weren't ghost Pokemon living in our house. I carefully tiptoed down the stairs in an effort not to awaken my parents. Halfway down the steps I noticed that the front door was wide open and immediately knew something was wrong. I should've went back upstairs to hide but I was curious as to why. To this day I regret it.
I didn't bother to shut the door as I walked passed and headed into the kitchen. I heard a muffled sound off to my left coming from somewhere within the den. At first I didn't think much about it, but after a second or so of actually racking over it in my brain, I decided to go check whatever it was out. Part of me was hoping that it'd be some ghost Pokemon throwing my mother's china from Unova around. Another part of me feared that it would be a burglar stealing my mother's china. I peered around the corner of the counters, careful to stay out of view.
My heart leapt in my chest.
My parents were bound together with rope and duct tape. My mother had tears streaming down her face and my dad was scowling, holding as best as he could onto my mother's hand. They had been beaten pretty bad. Both of their faces were badly bruised and covered in blood. My mother's eye was swollen up to the point that it looked like it would explode.
"We don't like traitors," A tall man with balding black hair and hard brown eyes said, holding a gun up to my mother's head. He pressed it playfully against her head. Both her and my father began thrashing around in their bounds. Beside him two men dressed in a black and white outfit with a large red "R" printed on the front of shirt, cackled. "Did you really think that you could leave Team Rocket that easily?"
I didn't want to believe that my parents were involved with Team Rocket. Though afterwards when I really thought about it, it all made sense. The strange work hours. The new Pokemon they would have whenever they got back from one of their business trips... Why hadn't I seen it before?
"And to think that you would even go to the police about us. To rat us out. I've told you and so many others before, our reach extends far beyond you low level thieves. How else do you think we've managed to get away with so much? With the right money, anyone can be swayed. Or if not money, their family," The man said tapping the gun against my mother's shoulder.
All of that took place in a matter of seconds. I tiptoed to the other side of the kitchen where the phone was and picked it up, hands trembling. Even before I had the chance to call the police, a loud gunshot went off and a muffled scream echoed the room. I struggled not to drop the phone and ran back to the other side to see what the fate was of my parents.
My mother lied limp in her bounds and my father, who had remained strong for so long, started crying. I did too, but quickly put my hands over my mouth to keep myself from being detected. I watched in horror as the man held the gun to my father's head and pulled the trigger. I sobbed softly into my hands. It would be the last time I ever cried.
"Find their son. I know they have a son," The man said turning in my direction. I quickly scrambled out of view and dove into the living room, squeezing behind a couch to hide.
When I was sure they were upstairs, I clambered from my hiding place and ran to the front door, careful not to alert them. I ran the fastest I could down the street not bothering to look back. That was the last time I ever saw my house…and my parents.
Turns out, I became the star witness in a trail they had been building against the leader of Team Rocket, Giovanni. Oh, and some kid named Red was the other star witness. Apparently he had taken them down through sheer brute force. It was hard to believe considering he was around my age.
I probably stood in front of Giovanni about 13 times. I could never bring myself to cry about my parent's deaths or to cry about them in general. Mostly I think it was because I felt betrayed. How long had they been lying to me? They weren't working for some exporting company. They were Rockets. And what did that make me? A son of two dead rockets who decided to turn good for their son? The only questioned that really irked me more than that was if my parents had really done all the horrible things people had said on the news, talk shows, and even on trial. After I really racked it over in ten year old and began matching up the supposed crimes they had committed with the events at home... I realized my parents were monsters just like the rest of Team Rocket. They weren't special or the exception.
Anyway, Giovanni was sent to jail and that was when I was placed in witness protection without much of a choice. I'm sure there were a lot of Rockets that wanted to put a bullet in my head or just feed me to their Pokemon for kicks and giggles.
I've had so many names, lived in so many houses, and so many different cities, in different countries. Every single time ended with my cover being blown. A handful of times it was by the Rockets themselves, just so happening to be passing through the city. Those handful of times ended in them recognizing me and sending their Nidoking or some other scary Pokemon to capture and/or kill me. Sometimes I barely escaped alive. One time I told a girl who I believed to be my friend who I really was, and it turned out that her parents were Rockets. Just my luck, right? Another time I even purposely told someone who I really was just because I didn't like Solaceon Town or the people that lived there.
Of course, a lot of them had been by accident. Sometimes I forgot if I was Roland Turner from Opelucid City or Henry Foss from Fallarbor Town. Sometimes I even said my real name without realizing it.
After a while I just stopped caring. Just because it was too much for me to remember a new lie. People often asked me why I didn't have any Pokemon and I had to make up some intricate lie. Everything that came out of my mouth when talking to another person was a lie.
And hell did I want a Pokemon. Every time I asked one of my caretakers for one they'd tell me it was too much of a risk for me to have one. They couldn't change the identity of a Pokemon and if a Rocket saw me with a Pokemon I would have to release it so they wouldn't recognize me. I begged and begged, telling them I would be careful but they always said the same thing. I grew to resent everyone with a Pokemon and my caretakers, even more.
But now that I'm 16 years old I'm determined to get away from this life. I'm going to become a Pokemon Trainer. Even if I might get killed while venturing the world by a wild Pokemon or some Rockets, I don't care. I'm sick of not being who I'm meant to be. I don't care if I don't become some big badass trainer. I don't care if I don't make it to the Elite Four. I just want to be given the chance to fail and die.