Creeakk... Click!
Janice's head snapped up at the sound of the door opening and closing. She had been leaning against the wall for what felt like hours, her legs stiff and aching, but the noise jolted her upright. She shifted her weight forward, peering down the corridor just in time to see Nurse Joy emerge, closing the door behind her with practised care.
Janice immediately nudged her brothers. "She's coming," she whispered, straightening her posture. Ben stopped fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, and Coulton froze mid‑kick, his shoe hovering above the floorboard he had been abusing.
The three of them moved as one, intercepting Nurse Joy as she entered the lobby.
"Umm… Nurse Joy?" Janice's voice carried the uncertainty of someone who had rehearsed the question a dozen times in her head but still wasn't sure how it would land.
Nurse Joy turned, her professional smile already in place. Inside, though, her thoughts were racing. 'Of course. They want to ask about the girl. How much do I tell them? Not too much. Keep it short. I still need to call about the meds. Maybe the patient's privacy trick will work. For now, I have to talk to them...After I learn their names. Oops.'
"Ah, you three," she said smoothly, folding her hands in front of her. "What can I help you with?" She asked with a calm, professional smile while praying, 'Please, please do not take much of my time. I am in a hurry!'
Janice took a steadying breath. Ben and Coulton hovered at her sides, both looking nervous. "How… how is Yellow, Nurse Joy?"
'Let's keep it short and simple, no need to overcomplicate it, ' Nurse Joy thought before answering them. "She...will be okay. For now, she needs some rest." 'There, that should suffice for now. It's time to leave...'
"Will she be really okay, Nurse?" The boy who was not wearing the bug catcher clothes asked.
'How much reassurance do you want, kid?! At least tell your name! After talking with Ash, I came to know that your names were Janice, Ben, and Coulton. I can think of Janice being the girl's name, not yours! Do you know how embarrassing it will be if I call you by the wrong name?!'
"She will be fine. I would advise that you should not disturb them and wake her up for now. She should also stay away from things that would trigger her." She told them without revealing her thoughts. Even if the bottle and prescription were for antidepressants, she had given Yellow a small dose of a sleeping pill disguised as an antidepressant to recover.
"You sure? She was terrified of the Rattata." Now the one with the bug catcher clothes was asking.
'OH, COME ON! Twice wasn't enough, now thrice?! I know my job involves reassuring the concerned people, but this is getting ridiculous! I have work to do! I not only have to make the call, but also there are still Pokémon to treat!'
"Given what had happened to them previously, I don't blame them. They are stronger than you might think..."
"So, can you tell us what had happened for them to be so scared of my Rattata?" The other brother asked.
'Seriously?!'
"Ben!"
'A name!'
The girl, Janice, admonished her brother before turning to Nurse Joy. "Sorry about that, he is just curious. I will give him a talking to after going out," Janice said while side-eying her brother Ben.
'Don't just blatantly lie, I CAN SEE THAT YOU WANT TO KNOW YOURSELF!'
"I am sorry, but I cannot tell you that..."
"Why not?!" The one in bug catcher clothes, Coulton (if she was right), asked.
'Let me finish, ya little...'
"...it will go against the vows that a medical practitioner has taken, and it will be a serious violation of privacy," Nurse Joy finished with a straight professional face.
Coulton opened his mouth to argue again.
'I dare you. I double dare you to try again...'
Janice, being the eldest, and feeling the same sense of dread before she came under her parents' firing range of words, understood immediately what she had to do.
She immediately put her hand on Coulton's mouth before any coherent words came out.
"Mhmm hmmm mhmhmm..." Coulton tried to speak, but Janice shot him a look that could cut glass, the same one she shot him before their parents' punishment for doing something stupid.
Welp, he screwed up again, didn't he? Oops.
Ben just pouted and then looked down in frustration before being whacked on his head by Janice.
"Owww..."
Janice took a deep breath, forcing a polite, if slightly strained, smile. "Of course, Nurse Joy. We understand completely. Patient privacy is important. We apologise for prying." She gave both her brothers another pointed look, daring them to contradict her. Both of them reluctantly nodded.
'Finally!' Nurse Joy thought, resisting the urge to sigh in relief.
"Thank you for understanding," she said, her professional smile returning, feeling a bit more genuine this time. "As I mentioned, Yellow needs rest above all else. Ash is with her, and he seems quite exhausted himself. So, no disturbing."
Then she looked at them before telling them to follow her to the desk, where she searched the drawers and gave them a key.
"What is this for?" Janice asked.
"While you are waiting for your Pokémon to heal, why don't you have a shower and take some rest?"
"But we don't have the money to afford that," Coulton said.
"Hmmm...I am feeling a bit generous today~ so you can use the room for free today. Okay?" Nurse Joy said with her eyes closed before opening one of them to look at the siblings, who snatched the key from her and ran down the corridor to their room.
Yep, they fell for it.
Looking around to see if the hiker or anybody was around to eavesdrop on her, she found that nobody was there. It was clear to place the call. She went to the phone connected to her desktop to place the call about the inventory. Her hands hovered over the keypad while the receiver was placed against her ear. She did not move and remained in place, her eyes closed and a professional smile on her face for quite some time, as the beeps of the phone rang in her ear. Her eyes opened to show them unfocused as she had one thought only.
'WHAT IS THE NUMBER?!'
After some time, the hiker had come back from the restroom to the lobby. He approached the front desk to give his regards to Nurse Joy and inform her that he was hitting Mount Moon. As he approached, he was confused and concerned on seeing her frantically going through books and records, which looked as though they hadn't been touched in some time. There was also a book titled 'Inventory' on the desk.
Thinking about whether to call to help her or possibly disturb her, he took the advice of his gut and just left the Centre.
-------------------------------------
Ka-lick!
The sound of the receiver being placed back into its cradle rang out in the empty lobby, echoing faintly against the high wooden beams of the Pokémon Centre. The noise seemed louder than it should have been, bouncing off the silence that had settled over the building as the day wound down. Nurse Joy let out a long sigh, her shoulders sagging as she leaned against the counter. The call had taken far more out of her than she had anticipated.
Her jaw still ached from clenching it through the distributor's scolding. She had been chewed out thoroughly — for letting the stock run low, for not noticing the near-expired bottles sooner, for daring to request an expedited shipment. But at least the outcome was clear: the replacement meds would arrive tomorrow before noon. She would have to replace the entire stock, reorganise the shelves, and double-check every label. Another long day ahead.
She rubbed her temples, then lifted her gaze to the clock above the door. The hands ticked steadily toward evening. Outside, the light filtering through the tall windows had shifted to a softer, golden hue, the sun beginning its slow descent behind the jagged line of the mountains. The shadows stretched long across the floorboards, and the air carried that peculiar stillness that always came just before nightfall.
She straightened. It was time to check on them.
"Chan!"
The familiar call drew her attention. She turned to see her trusted partner, Chansey, waddling toward her with a tray balanced carefully in her stubby arms. Resting on the tray were the Poké Balls of the healed Pokémon, polished and gleaming faintly under the fading light.
"Thank you," Nurse Joy murmured, taking them gently. The weight of the Poké Balls in her hands was a reminder of her duty — not just to the Pokémon, but to the children who entrusted them to her. She would have to return them now. But first, she scanned them, her eyes narrowing slightly as the machine beeped and displayed the results.
Two of the Poké Balls — one belonging to a Pidgeotto, the other to an Eevee — were linked to a Trainer ID. The rest, however, were not. They had been tied to a civilian ID before, but now they were unassigned. That meant the two linked ones must belong to the boy, Ash. The others… the siblings.
Her brow furrowed. 'Were these Pokémon handed over to them by their parents? Or did they claim them some other way?' The system didn't lie, but it didn't tell the whole story either. She would have to ask.
"Nurse Joy?"
The voice pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up to see Janice standing in front of the desk, her brothers flanking her. All three wore the same expression — a mixture of worry and impatience, the kind of look children wore when they knew they were already late getting home.
"Yes?"
Janice hesitated, then Coulton spoke up, his voice edged with urgency. "Can we have our Pokémon back? We need to return home; otherwise, our parents will chew us out."
Nurse Joy blinked, then smiled faintly. "Ah! I was just about to look for you to hand them back. Except for the injuries, they were healthy as well." She handed the Poké Balls across the counter, then tilted her head. "How did you get them?"
Ben, the youngest, piped up eagerly before his siblings could stop him. "Our parents handed them to us a month or two ago! They are quite strong, right?!" His eyes shone with pride, his voice carrying the unfiltered enthusiasm of a child.
Nurse Joy's smile didn't falter, but her thoughts sharpened. 'So, their parents did hand them over. That explains the civilian IDs. Still… strong or not, they're young. Too young.'
"Ah, here is the key to the room you gave us," Janice said quickly, cutting off further questions. She placed the brass key on the counter with a polite nod. "We should get going now. Bye!"
Before Nurse Joy could respond, Janice grabbed her brothers' hands and tugged them toward the door. The three of them disappeared into the evening light, their voices fading as the door swung shut behind them.
The lobby was quiet again.
Nurse Joy exhaled, setting the returned key aside. Now, only Ash's Pokémon remained. She would have to give them back soon — and check on him and Yellow while she was at it.
Her eyes drifted to the ledgers scattered across the floor near the desk, the result of her frantic search earlier. She grumbled under her breath, stooping to gather them into a neat pile. The paperwork could wait. For now, there were more pressing matters.
She slipped two keys into her pocket. Just because Yellow needed Ash during her panic attacks didn't mean she could allow a boy and a girl to sleep together in the same room. The procedure was procedure. Still, the thought of separating them left her uneasy.
Creak… creak… creak…
The wooden floorboards groaned softly beneath her feet as she made her way down the corridor. The sound echoed in the stillness, each step measured, deliberate. Her mind wandered as she walked, turning over the question of dinner.
At least the ingredients were fresh. She could make a hearty soup — vegetables simmered with Bellsprout roots and Oddish leaves, potatoes tossed in sauce and spices. Should she add a drizzle of Beedrill honey for sweetness, or perhaps the zest of a Citrus Berry for brightness? Separate dishes for the two children might be better, but one large pot would be easier. Should she thicken the broth with Miltank cream or Tauros cream for a richer flavour?
Her thoughts grew more elaborate as she walked. She imagined tossing the vegetables in a coating of Pidgey egg yolk and breadcrumbs, frying them until golden, then floating them atop the soup. A dressing of whipped egg whites could add a delicate finish. Cooking them well would take time, but time was something she still had before night fully fell.
Creak… creak…
Her culinary musings were interrupted as she reached the door to the clinic room. The corridor was hushed, the air heavy with the faint hum of electricity. The filament bulb overhead flickered again, buzzing faintly, its light stuttering in uneven pulses. She frowned. That bulb had been threatening to die for days. She really needed to replace it before it went out completely.
She stopped in front of the door, her hand brushing against the keys in her pocket. They felt suddenly heavy, as though they carried not just brass but the weight of her responsibility.
Her professional training was clear: unrelated minors should not share a room overnight. It was standard procedure, designed to protect, to prevent misunderstandings, to maintain propriety. She had enforced it countless times before without hesitation.
But then she remembered Ash's voice, tight with guilt, as he explained what had happened in Viridian Forest. She remembered Yellow's wide, terrified eyes, her trembling hands clutching desperately at him, refusing to let go even when Nurse Joy herself had tried to intervene.
The memory made her pause.
She stood there in the dim corridor, the flickering light buzzing above her, the silence pressing in. The keys felt like a decision in her hand.
Just check on them first, she told herself firmly. See how they are.
And with that, she reached for the doorknob.
Taking a quiet breath, she pushed the door open just a crack, careful not to let the hinges creak too loudly. The faintest sliver of light spilt into the dim room, and she peered inside, holding her breath as though even the sound of air leaving her lungs might disturb what lay beyond.
The room was bathed in a reddish‑orange glow, the kind of light that only came in the last hour before sunset. It filtered through the open window, where the curtains swayed gently in the mountain breeze. The air smelled faintly of pine and stone dust, carried down from the slopes of Mount Moon. The shifting fabric cast long, dappled shadows across the walls, painting the small space in a warm, flickering haze that felt almost sacred.
The sight that greeted her made her pause, her hand freezing on the doorknob.
Yellow lay curled on the narrow bed, her small frame turned toward the chair that had been pulled close. The terror‑stricken mask she had worn earlier — the wide eyes, the trembling lips, the shallow gasps — was gone. In its place was a profound stillness, a peace so fragile it seemed as though the wrong sound might shatter it. Her breathing was slow and even, her face softened in the dim light. She looked younger, like this, far younger than the weight she carried in her waking hours. Vulnerable. Breakable.
Pikachu was curled into a tight golden ball near her pillow, his tiny chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm with hers. His ears twitched occasionally, but otherwise he was still, his body pressed close as if to guard her even in sleep.
At the head of the bed, Spearow perched stiffly, one eye cracked open. The bird's feathers were slightly ruffled, his wings tucked tight, but his gaze was sharp. He looked at Nurse Joy with the wary vigilance of a sentry who had not allowed himself to rest fully, even when exhaustion demanded it.
Above them, a Butterfree drifted lazily through the air, wings catching the last rays of sunlight and scattering them in shimmering patterns across the walls. His antennae glowed faintly, pulsing with psychic energy. The glow brightened when Nurse Joy's shadow crossed the threshold, then dimmed again, a silent warning: he was ready to strike if she proved a threat. The message was clear — this room was a fortress, and its occupants were under his protection.
And then she noticed the Chansey.
Slumped against the foot of the bed, the pink Pokémon's head lolled slightly to one side, her eyes closed in deep rest. Nurse Joy blinked, startled. A Chansey? Here? She hadn't allocated a Chansey to this room. For a moment, her mind scrambled through the stories she had heard. Wasn't there a trainer who had earned a Chansey's loyalty after saving a Joy in Viridian? Could it be one of these two? The thought unsettled her — Chansey were rare, fiercely loyal, and not easily won. Whoever had earned this one's trust had done something extraordinary.
Her gaze shifted to the boy.
Ash had pulled the stool right up against the bed, his body slumped forward from sheer exhaustion. His head rested on his folded arms at the edge of the mattress, his dark hair falling into his face. One of his hands was clasped tightly in Yellow's, their fingers entwined even in sleep. The gesture was simple, but it radiated a quiet, unshakable bond. Even unconscious, Yellow clung to him, and even unconscious, Ash did not let go.
Nurse Joy felt a pang in her chest, sharp and unexpected. She had trained herself to maintain professional detachment — to see patients, not stories; symptoms, not scars. But in that moment, the walls she had built around her heart crumbled. She didn't see a patient or her caretaker. She saw two children who had been through a lot together, who had found safety only in each other's presence. She saw the way their Pokémon had formed a protective cordon around them, each one taking up a post as if they understood instinctively that their trainers could not afford another wound.
Separating them now felt fundamentally wrong. Clinical procedure dictated otherwise — separate rooms, sterile isolation, careful monitoring. But her instincts, honed by years of caring for both Pokémon and their trainers, screamed against it. What Yellow needed wasn't a whitewashed room and a clipboard at her bedside. What she needed was the steady warmth of the hand she clung to, the familiar presence that anchored her to safety even in her dreams. And Ash — the boy who carried himself like the world rested on his shoulders — he needed that reassurance just as much.
Her eyes flicked upward to the Butterfree, who hovered silently, his antennae glowing brighter as if sensing her thoughts. Slowly, deliberately, Nurse Joy reached into her apron and produced two Poké Balls and a spare room key. She held them out in her palm, offering them not to Ash, but to the Pokémon who had clearly taken it upon himself to guard the room.
The glow in Butterfree's eyes intensified, wrapping the objects in a soft psychic aura. The Poké Balls and the key lifted gently from her hand, floating across the room before settling on the bed beside the joined hands of Ash and Yellow. The message was clear: We trust you. Keep them safe.
Nurse Joy's throat tightened. She took a step back, moving as quietly as she could, her shoes barely whispering against the floor. She pulled the door almost closed, leaving only the faintest sliver open — enough for her to monitor them if needed, but not enough to disturb the fragile peace within.
The second room key felt heavy and useless in her hand. She tucked it back into her pocket. They would stay here tonight. Together.
Back in the lobby, the world felt louder, emptier. The ticking of the wall clock seemed harsh after the hush of the room. Nurse Joy slipped the spare key into the drawer behind the desk, her movements automatic. Then, with a quiet sigh, she turned toward the kitchen.
There was still time before night fully fell. Enough time to prepare a proper meal — something hearty, warm, and nourishing. Those children and their Pokémon would wake hungry, and food was its own kind of medicine. She rolled up her sleeves, already planning the menu: rice and vegetable stew, soft bread, berries for the Pokémon, and a pot of tea to soothe frayed nerves.
As she moved into the kitchen, the last rays of sunlight spilt through the windows, painting the counters in gold. She paused for a moment, her hands resting on the edge of the counter, and closed her eyes.
'Guide them, Mew,' she prayed silently. 'Protect them. They've already endured too much. Let this night be quiet. Let them heal, even if only a little. The road ahead is long, and they will need each other every step of the way.'
Then she opened her eyes, lit the stove, and began to cook.