Lost Among the Thorns [Pokémon Short Story]

06| End of the Trail

Things had gone quiet between Miles and Buneary. It wasn't because they didn't have anything to say, it was because they didn't know what they could say.

It wasn't long after they'd set out down the trail again that Miles became acutely aware of the throbbing in his injured hand. He shoved it in his pocket so he wouldn't have to look at it, because frankly, he was afraid of what he'd see if he did.

Miles repeatedly took deep breaths, swallowing hard nearly each time he did. He felt absolutely horrible. It was becoming difficult to keep his composure as bile bubbled in his turning stomach. But he had to keep going. They'd made it to the Trainer-frequented path, and on top of that, there was less than half a mile to Eterna.

After a bit longer, Miles became aware of something. He couldn't feel the pain in his hand anymore. In fact, he couldn't feel his fingers when he moved them. He dared to look at his hand, and his breath hitched.

The skin around the wound had turned a nasty dark hue. Purple-red lines outlining the veins on his hand spread out from the puncture, standing out clearly. His stomach turned over at the sight, and the nausea finally overcame him as he doubled over and vomited. Instantly, Buneary was clinging to his leg, squeaking in fear.

"I-I'm fine," he gagged, forcing himself upright. "Let's just keep going."

They hardly made it ten minutes before Miles was sick again. He sank to his knees as his stomach continued to wring itself out. Unbeknownst to him, he'd started shaking uncontrollably. He couldn't give up now though. He swore he could hear the roar of a car through the trees, which made sense considering the Trainer path ran alongside the road through the last stretch of Eterna Forest. There was only a thin stretch of trees separating the two.

Though she was afraid, Buneary smiled at him. She patted his arm comfortingly before running off into the trees. After five minutes that felt like five hours, Buneary returned with a bright pink berry in her paws—a Pecha berry. She offered the berry to him, looking hopeful.

"I'm sorry, Buneary. Those don't... work on people," he laughed weakly. Even if they did, he wasn't sure if he could keep it down. All the hope drained from Buneary's face. Hoping to reassure her, Miles tried to stand, but it seemed like he had no energy left. He forced himself to crawl. If he could just get to that road, then everything might be okay. Might. That word frightened him more than anything else.

Through the brush he dragged himself, Buneary at his side the whole way. He was barely aware of his surroundings anymore. The feel of grass and twigs under his hands was all that kept him rooted in reality.

He then felt dirt before his fingers grazed flat, hard stone. The harsh scent of asphalt stung his nose, and he knew he'd made it. It was there that he collapsed, shuddering. Buneary frantically shook him, trying to get him up.

"I-I can't move," he wheezed. It'd only been an hour or so since their encounter with Roserade. How could the poison have affected him this quickly?

With great difficulty, he forced his hands to curl into fists. The numbness had now began to spread up his arm. This was how it would end, wouldn't it? Right at safety's door but the thing was locked. He grimly wondered if the numbness would overtake him before he died.

Buneary's paws left him, and he could blearily see her turning away from him. He knew she was going to find help, but he grabbed her paw. "P-please don't leave me," he begged. He just didn't want to be alone, even when the inevitable occurred.

"Bun ee..." she whimpered.

Miles felt his throat close up. "Please," he insisted.

Reluctantly, Buneary laid down beside him, snuggling into his chest. Miles wrapped his good arm around her and held her to his chest.

Even as his vision began to fade, he felt oddly at peace then. He was just happy to not be alone. A pair of yellow lights in the distance was the last thing he saw before everything went dark.