Locke and Key: A Nuzlocke Story

A/N: I'd like to thank every single reader this story has ever managed to get. I'm so glad you took the time to take this journey with me, as it's been a long one and sometimes a rocky one - not least of all for Leaf herself.

If you left me a review, I'd like to thank you. You guys are the ones that kept me writing, when at one point I felt like letting the story go. Those of you who critiqued me - well, let me just say that I can't really give you the thanks you deserve, as you've improved my writing entirely.

FirebirdXoXo, you already know that I appreciate you. x3

Finally, this journey has ended - but I can't give up the Nuzlocke spirit. Oh, no. HeartGold is my next destination. Hopefully the outcome is as amazing an experience as this one has been.

Overall - thank you.

"See you, space cowboy."

-Cowboy Bebop episode slogan

Conclusions are so hard. To see the end of something that shaped your life and changed your entire being is both beautiful and heartbreaking. But—as we all know from childhood—all good things must come to an end.

Luckily for some of us, the bad things have to end, too.

I hadn't stayed around long after my earth-shattering victory. Never had Kanto sported two League Champions in such a short amount of time. Never would they again-not in my lifetime, anyway.

Nor had the challenge been so emotional—so perfect for TV. I stood, some massive gold and silver cape being spread over my shoulders, and the hounds came calling, gathering beneath my feet, begging for scraps. I was still in shock, and when I watched the film later, it looked like I hadn't been there at all.

That is, until the questions.

I'd sat there, a plastic smile stretched tight over my pale, sharp face, as I was congratulated over and over again.

Then the people asked me questions. If I was still sad. If I hated former Champion Green Oak for killing my Electrode. Even if I'd planned for Xander and Flitz to die, waving microphones near my lips and pointing lenses into my eyes. You know. For the story.

I'd been polite enough up to that point. I was nervous, shaky, my vision was blurred; I was hungry, exhausted, apathetic. I could care less about the championship title, at that point. I'd totaled the League, and my gun wasn't empty.

But I'd fired two bullets, and they'd shattered on impact, and now I didn't want to shoot anymore. I'd made up my mind. I was putting my weapon away, and I was going to go heal. Some wounds take time, but I had a feeling that mine would take meditation—and forgiveness.

I knew, as I was bombarded with insensitive question, with the vultures of media, with flashing cameras, that I wasn't nearly ready to forgive anyone just yet.

Least of all myself.

"Get out of my fucking face," I'd snarled, like a cornered dog. In a way, I was. They were leering at me, wanting to evoke some emotional response for the camera, and I was only too happy to give it to them. "Xander and Flitz were my friends. My oldest friends. I ate with them, trained with them, slept beside them, nurtured them from Zubat and Voltorb, and then I watched them die. You monsters can have your fucking champ title."

I'd thrown the cape down angrily, stomping it into the dirt. I left the stage, all of my rage breaking over me like some hellish red storm. The Hall of Fame records were still on stage, in a huge silk tapestry that would hang forever in the League vault. I glanced back at it before I left for Kanto, avoiding the questioning and wounded eyes of the media dogs as I did so.

Champion Leaf Brannigan of Pallet Town, it was titled in bright green thread. Below that, my trainer ID was threaded delicately.

The girl on that tapestry wasn't smiling. Her eyes were cool and light green, distant and more like mirrors than windows. She was tan from travel, lean from scrounging, and her clothes and cape were new and clean. The light brown hair that hung around her shoulders wasn't tattered and tangled anymore; they'd cut it, washed it, and brushed it for the camera after my victory. I wasn't in ripped jeans and a tank top. I was in some miniature black cocktail dress.

Is that girl even me?The taut, drawn mouth and the eyes looked like me, if nothing else.

There were six Pokemon around her, with gender signs and names threaded alongside them. CeeCee the Dewgong, male, threaded in ivory, with big dark eyes and a mermaid's fan of tail. Lyrica the Nidoqueen, female. Her gunmetal colorings were right, but how could you capture her gentle spirit in a tapestry? Flitz the Electrode, genderless. His smile wasn't lively enough. Otherwise, it wasn't hard to draw a ball.

I bit my lip. Frederick the Graveler, male, stout and calm. Xander the Golbat, male. His love had caused him to attempt evolution so many times. What a waste. A waste of a friend.

Kashen the Charizard, male. I touched his Poke Ball lightly. On that tapestry that would hang in the Hall of Fame for years, Kashen looked cool and unreachable, as I did. No one but me knew the anger he carried inside of him. No one knew how I'd ruined him, and how now we bled as one.

"Fly us home, Kashen," I whispered, tossing his Ball into the air. "Let's just go home."

He appeared before me, and I could hear the flashing of cameras behind us. They really don't give up, do they? He lowered his neck, and I slithered onto his shoulders, holding tight to him, as always.

I hadn't seen Green.

The last thing I remembered of him was his face, so broken, as his team was defeated one by one. I had stared back at him, our eyes were clashing like always, and I wanted to reach for him. I wanted to submerge my reaching hand into the depths of his pool-water eyes, and I wanted to bring him close to me.

That's the feeling I want to remember. I don't want to remember my hatred, that ragged blade in its unskilled but furious hand. I don't want to remember his Blastoise killing Flitz. I don't want to think about his life coming apart before him, his dreams being crushed by my Charizard's resurrection.

I don't know what happened to him, after they crowned me Kanto League Champion and took pictures for my tapestry in the Hall of Fame. I had searched the crowd at my "coronation", of sorts, but I hadn't seen eyes like a winter sky. I hadn't seen that confident, self-possessed smile.

It was only when I returned home that I realized that he'd changed, too.

Maybe he couldn't smile like that anymore.

My mother had been standing on the front porch of our old patchwork house, wringing her tired hands and searching the skies for me. When I climbed off of Kashen's shoulders and went to her for a hug, she threw herself at me, gripping me tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Leaf," she said, sounding on the verge of tears. Mom? About to cry? She didn't start with 'I'm proud of you', or 'congrats', or, 'good job baby!'.

No, she must have seen something on my face. Something in dire need of love, of comfort, of reassurance. Of pity, even.

"Mom… I… are you okay?" I managed to choke out. My hands found the small of her back as I hugged her. She was painfully thin, thinner than me, even.

"I am now that you're home." She buried her head in my shoulder, and I smelled the familiar scent of her hair, streaked with gray but otherwise much like mine. "I watched all of your victories, Leaf. And… I just have to say that you are everything I thought you wouldn't be. You are an amazing trainer. You are a winner. A fighter." She clutched me, and she might've been crying, I don't know. That was shock enough. Before I'd left for my journey, I hadn't cried at all, having learned that from her.

I guess it stopped mattering to both of us.

I tightened my embrace, remembering our last encounter, after Silph Co.'s tower had collapsed beneath me.

"I am not a trainer anymore," I said, instead of everything I could have said. "I gave up my championship. I'm turning in my trainer card."

She jerked away from me at that, green eyes shocked and damp. She looked so much older. It made me feel like I did, too.

"What?" She asked, frowning. "Leaf, what are you talking about? You're Kanto's Champion. You can't give up."

"I'm not giving up. I won. I did what I wanted to do." I turned around to face the evening, instead of her accusing, bewildered face. "I'm going to need some time to think about everything. Everyone. A lot has happened to me, Mom. And someday I'm going to tell you all of it."

"I believe you," she replied softly. "So what are you going to do with your Pokemon? Without a trainer card, they won't let you keep them."

"I'm not going to keep them," I answered vaguely. I had only just realized what I meant to do.

"Pokemon Tower is not a place I want to bury my friends," I said to empty air. Nighttime over the raided caves of Mt. Moon was dismal and shadowy, but this is where I'd found my third capture, fourth Pokemon, and second-oldest living friend.

I set my shovel aside, brooding. Xander was gone. I hadn't sent the invite to Agatha, like I'd thought I would. I realized now that she'd been doing her job, killing him with a Gengar. I'd been trying to prove myself by sending him to his death. It was who we were.

Were, I thought, softly.

I meant to change. I knew that.

"Goodbye, Xander," I said to the night, and beside me, Kashen let out a thick, agonized growl. It echoed against the mountains, and it loosened the burdening weight from my shoulders.

We flew next to Rock Tunnel, another mountainous region, where I'd caught Flitz as a Voltorb. I had to bury him in his Poke Ball, as I'd had to do with Xander—there was no way I was going to look into their faces as I did it.

I wasn't even sure I deserved that.

As I tried to think of some words to say, some prayer, I heard the grass rustle around me. I turned, expecting to see Spearow or Rattata, but instead I saw Green Oak.

"What are you doing here?" I asked without hostility. I had too many feelings to let one take the lead, that was for sure.

"Your Electrode's name was Flitz, right?" He sat down, uninvited, next to the little grave I'd dug. He had changed clothes since I saw him last, being Green, but he wasn't smiling.

"Yeah." I wanted to smoke, for the first time in months. It made me sad. The last cigarette I'd touched was after Leroy died. I'd weathered Dusty's death, Xander's and Flitz's, without relying on a bad habit, but there it was, that familiar, dull ache in my lungs and heart.

I looked at Green, focusing on him to blunt my craving. He was staring at the plot, where my friend lay inside.

"I don't know why I never named my Pokemon. I never really thought about it, I guess," he said. Even in moonlight, his hair was the color of exposed wire, and his skin looked tan, not pale, like mine did. "I like that you did."

"I didn't ask you to follow me here, Green."

"I killed him." He said this off-handedly, not sad or happy or uncaring, just like it was a fact. Which it was. "I have to pay my respects. He died at my hands, and I'm not going to forget that anytime soon."

"At least you're the Champion now," I said abruptly. I couldn't talk about him killing Flitz. It made me want to punch him—which was better than me wanting to kiss him, I supposed, but not by much.

"No, I'm not." He looked up at the night sky, leaning back on his hands and mentally counting stars.

"What?"

"I gave it up. Lance is Champion again."

"Why? You deserved it!" I stared at Green, wondering who was really sitting beside me at my Electrode's makeshift funeral.

"No, I didn't. I'm not gonna argue with you about it, either. I know I'm right, and I know what I'm doing. That's that." He smiled at me, and it didn't have any humor in it.

My mouth fell open. I had to remember to close it. "Well… you came at a bad time."

"No. Your mom told Grandpa what you were about to do." He shrugged. "You can't let them go, Leaf. You're a damn good trainer, and they have no home without you. Those Pokemon are willing to die for you—shouldn't you be willing to die for them?"

Oh, this, I thought, angrily. "It's none of your fucking business, Green."

"Like hell it isn't."

And just like that, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine.

I blinked, shocked at the taste of him and the feel of his mouth.

"Maybe you don't want to be a trainer anymore," he said, pulling away slowly, "but you don't have to give up your friends."

There was a double entendre there, I know there was.

I touched my mouth, wondering.

"I guess not," I said.

I did see Oak before I left. He was my final stop.

Kashen and I waited outside of his lab. When he finally appeared, looking solemn instead of pleased, I felt tears in my eyes.

Oh, stop it, I thought, angrily. You can't start with this now.

So, I tilted my head back, the way I used to when I was a child and I had to prevent myself from crying in front of someone. It worked this time, as it had before.

"Leaf," Oak began, as my head was thrown back to look at the sky.

"Well. I told Green he was the Champion now. Apparently he gave it up for Lance."

"Two champions in a week's time," Oak noted with a smile, "and they both give up their titles. You two aren't like most kids, I've always known that. Especially you."

My lips twisted into a smile. By now, it felt foreign, but it was a comfort nonetheless.

"So, Leaf, tell me. What are you planning on doing?" His voice held a sharp edge in it now.

I sighed, lowered my face to meet his gaze. To this day, his eyes sent a chill running down my spine. I remembered how admiring I'd been of Samuel Oak's very presence, and it made my smile feel a bit more natural.

"I'm giving up being a trainer," I said. "At least for now. There's really no way I can pick up where I left off, either. You know that."

Oak, to my surprise, nodded softly. "Don't I."

"But I've never had your brains or even close, and there's no way I could study Pokemon like you do. I can't really do much."

"Maybe there's just nothing left for you here," he said, sounding idle. "My advice to you, Leaf, is to figure out what's ahead of you. Don't abandon your friends." I touched the belt studded with my remaining Poke Balls lightly, then nodded. "They can help you decide, after all. And it isn't only you who needs them. They need you, too."

Honestly, I had wanted to release my Pokemon back into the wild. A Free Willykinda thing, you know? But how could I? They were too powerful to coexist with their species like they once did. I'd snatched them from their homes while they were young and impressionable, and I'd molded them into the Pokemon they were now.

As they'd molded me.

But Oak was right. I was callous, and I was selfish, but I couldn't be both. CeeCee, Lyrica, Frederick, Kashen-they were mine, and I belonged to them, too.

And...

Oak was right about something else, too.

There was nothing left for me here.

I could see that now.

"Well, there's no reason for real goodbyes, are there?" I asked Kashen as I awkwardly climbed up onto his shoulders. Under the cover of approaching night, Rattata and Pidgey sang freely and ran about, in this place where I'd started my journey.

Kashen grunted as I settled myself on his shoulders. I could feel the muscles in his back rippling as he spread his wings.

"I'll take that as an agreement," I teased, stroking him around the horns. He had so many little scars that I'd never noticed before, scars that came from battling.

"Besides... Oak will comfort Mom. Green still has a destiny ahead of him here. I don't know what, but I know he'll find it. He's smart, pretty, talented, influential... he should have nothing to worry about," I said, convincing myself.

Kashen snorted, shuffling his feet impatiently. As I felt the heat from his sunset-colored skin and the leather of his wings, I was reminded of Giovanni and Blaine, and the destructive monster they'd birthed.

Am I any different? I wondered. Something pure and innocent and trusting became demonic after abuse and brainwashing. Mewtwo, in return, had lashed out against its human captors and creators, and fled to the wild.

As I lightly brushed my hand against Kashen, I wondered if maybe someday he'd see me for the monster I was, and leave me for dead... or kill me himself. I hadn't abused Kashen, ever, but maybe he'd breakdown one day.

I thought of Mewtwo, and I thought that maybe someday he'd come to terms with the death he'd seen, the destruction he'd caused. Maybe it would seek human contact again someday, and forgive humanity its follies.

I knew I would have to learn to do the same. Maybe Kashen and I would heal together.

"I know, I know, buddy." I smiled, touched his long, warm face fondly. "I know."

So I brought my knees into his side gently, and he took to the skies with a small running start. The Rattata and Pidgey scattered as we ascended, lifting away from Kanto-away from all we'd ever known.

"I promised myself I wouldn't cry anymore," I said, softly. "Not about what we're leaving here, anyway. I know I've shed enough tears over this place, and everyone in it."

I turned and nestled into Kashen's neck, unwilling to look beneath me anymore. There was too much for me to see.

And I had to put my roots elsewhere.

I had to grow away from all of this-we all had to. Me, Kashen, and the rest of them, my motley crew of assorted Pokemon from the Kanto region. We wouldn't forget, but we'd eventually have to learn how to forgive.

However long it took.

Clouds moved around us in a blur, and the wind stung my eyes, bringing cold prickling tears.

Despite myself, I turned again, the receding figure of my home region reduced to fields and spots of city.

"See ya," I muttered to myself. There was nothing left to say.

Bang.