Fwaa, new story. Sigh.

On another note, I always seem to start stories like this with flashbacks. What can I say? I like them. They're nice and practical.

I don't own Pokemon because otherwise I would rule the world. In a sense.

It was peaceful in the forest. A few baby Taillows were flapping around near him, the mother Swellows watching carefully to make sure they didn't get hurt. Ruby was having a great time, holding them in his soft hands and observing their beautiful plumage. Nearby, his friend, the little girl whose name he couldn't remember, watched with her thumb in her mouth and sitting primly on the ground, making sure her lacy dress didn't get dirty.

He could see his parents through the trees, talking and laughing with the little girl's father (oh, what was her name, it was on the tip of his tongue), examining the plant life and still managing to keep an eye on the children. It wasn't fair, really, that grown-ups had eyes on the back of their heads; Ruby knew quite a few reasons on why that would be useful, but apparently such eyes didn't develop until one reached adulthood. It really wasn't fair.

The little girl (he knew that he had her name, and yet, and yet, come did it not) suddenly screamed, and then all chaos broke loose in the form of wild men, screaming like banshees as their Pokemon snarled and hacked and slashed. Ruby heard the command faintly from his father – "Run!" – and his body wasted no time to obey, grabbing the little girl by her wrist and yanking her to her feet, urging her to run, to run, to not look back, don't look back, whatever you do don't look back –

He could hear the pursuers behind him. But no, it was only one; his sharp ears identified it as a single four-legged creature, bounding effortlessly and quietly behind him in the foliage, one that could catch up as it desired. He tightened his grip on the little girl's hand (her name, her name, oh, how he wanted to know her name) and ignored her squeaks of protest, tearing through the plant life and gritting his teeth at the wounds he received in return.

He turned for only a second (only a second!) and stared deeply into red eyes, screaming as he took a Slash attack to the face. He turned back, increasing his speed, slapping a hand to his forehead and grinding his teeth against the pain. Oh, it hurt, yes it did, but there was adrenaline in his veins, he wouldn't stop, couldn't stop, he had to run, to run, to run…

Blood flowed into his eye. He closed it, only noticing the silence when the little girl holding his hand (all he wanted was her name, why did it not come to him) pulled hard on his wrist, enough that he came to a jerky rest. He quickly knew the pursuer, with those red eyes full of bloodlust and pain and cruelty, was gone, lost interest perhaps, or maybe it was called back to its master. He didn't care; his forehead hurt, his eye hurt, and as he released the little girl's hand and staggered, he found he could barely stand, panting and coughing and hacking and –

"It's okay now," he said as he turned around to face her.

But she screamed when she saw his face.

He woke with a start, bolting upright with her name dancing on his lips. He closed his eyes and tried to force the name out, come on, come on, it hasn't been that long since then, I know her name, but no, it was forgotten, lost in his mind and never to return.

Ruby had had a feeling he'd have the Dream tonight. And apparently he hadn't been mistaken.

He lifted a hand and pressed his fingertips to the scars on his forehead, the marks inching into his hairline. Had it not been for them, the little girl wouldn't have screamed, and perhaps then she would not have been taken from him in the rough grip of that pirate captain. She would not have screamed, they would not have been found, she would not have been taken, her parents wouldn't have died as he was forced to watch. His fault, his fault, his fault, his brain screamed, hammering the two words repeatedly in his ears, his fault, his fault, his fault.

His Mudkip chirped at him, settling its lithe blue body in his lap. He stroked the Pokemon with a trembling hand.

He hated pirates.

And he'd do anything to remember her name.