Chapter 5 - Sickness

Red called his Pidgeotto back into its Pokeball as he won yet another Pokemon battle - against his rival at that. It remained a bit of a marvel for Derrick to watch the trainer's powerful team take on others with such vivid reality. He had been wishing over and over for this environment to be a reality in his world; that way he would be able to have a less restricted sense of communication. Thus far he had not seen one mouth move from the numerous people he had encountered, aside from Red, the extent of his emotions ranging from a thin smile to the softest of furrowing in his brows. No-one spoke, either, which made everything deafeningly silent. It was almost as though the existence in the world, aside from Pokemon, was shared entirely by Red and himself. He didn't particularly mind it, though.

So the captain of the ship is sick...?


"Unfortunately. But, hey! This gives you the chance to get the Cut HM. It comes nicely in handy...ugh.." Derrick suddenly felt a wave of nausea reverberate through his body. He wrapped his arms across his stomach and leaned against one of the corridor walls of the S.S. Anne, letting his head swim for a bit.

Are you okay?


"M'fine...just a random stomach pain. It must be from this ship, but I can't feel any rocking." Another wave of sickness, more powerful than the last one. Derrick's gag reflexes jumped in his throat. What was happening? He closed his eyes, trying to calm anything in his body long enough for him to think straight again, but to no avail. Something was going to fight its way from his body, whether he liked it or not. When he opened his eyes again, all he could see was darkness. Panicking, he tried to cry out, but his heaving insides stopped him. Before he knew it, he was falling off of his bed, catching his ankle on the wood of the foundation and finding the floor. As it dawned on him that he kept a wastebasket near his bed, his eyesight returned just in time for him to find it, draw it to his chest and allow his throat to disperse sickness into the wastebasket's depths.

"Derrick?"

Derrick flinched at the sudden sound of a human voice, recognizing it as his mother's and leaning against the side of his bed to take in what had just happened.

"Yep?"

"Are you okay, sweetie? It sounds like you just got sick." Derrick spat remnants into the wastebasket, mumbling.

"I did. I'm all good, though."

"You sure? Maybe you should come down and let me check you out."

"It's fine, mom. I'm going to Scott's today and he'll be irritated if I tell him I can't come. It was just erratic sickness." Derrick let his own words sink in for a moment before pouncing from the floor to his bed, searching his messy sheets for his cell until he found it. What time is it? How long did I sleep? He unlocked the phone's screen, pulling his text message inbox into view and finding his most recent text to Scott. "Seven minutes ago...huh, I must have been dreaming, then. That was one vivid dream."

"Looks like I see him pulling up now, Derrick. Are you sure you're feeling fine now?" Derrick pocketed his cell phone, when he saw his SP open and the green light shining on the side. He glanced at the screen, and saw Red, standing in the corridors of S.S. Anne. He shoved down yet another wave of nausea, tapping the START button and quickly saving his game before closing and pocketing that as well.

"Yeah...I'll be fine."