Paradigm Shift: Doctor's Orders

Welcome to my new fic - Doctor's Orders! It is set in my old 'Pokemon On Earth' series, now named Paradigm Shift! Enjoy!

---

Trevor Hermani stood in his vet's office looking around. Everything was just as he left it. That was good – he hated schedule interruptions.

He checked his calender. December 12, 2030. Six months. Six months since creatures from a franchise once thought fictional had become real. Six months since the First Days, in which thousands died in Australia alone.

Melbourne was a large city, and it bore the brunt of the Shift. He shook his head. He could deal with normal animals easily. But Pokemon? They were a whole different story.

The large window out front revealed a cloudless mid-afternoon sky. On the street, construction workers worked, picking up broken glass and rubble under the watchful eyes of Australian Defence Force soldiers.

Hundreds of people had been displaced due to damage caused by the Shift, and it was only gonna get worse, he figured. As he watched, most of the soldiers just chatted amongst themselves and watched random wild Pokemon in a nearby city park, assault rifles in hand. He noticed the soldiers being given suspicious glares whenever a Pokemon passed by.

Trevor had seen the news - America was still battling to reclaim their cities from hostile Pokemon. Still, most of the populace there had done their best to assist in saving their ruined cities.

A price list was on the wall. If any Pokemon came in for treatment, he'd have to look into charging them

Soon, a woman came into the clinic. She had long, curly brown hair and clutched a Labrador mutt puppy with glassy eyes and electrical burns in its mouth. "Damn electric rodents... you won't be able to fix this will you?"

"Ma'am, I can do a surgery after the check-up. It'll have to be done at a veterinary hospital." Trevor began to work.

As he did, the woman rambled on. "I didn't have to worry about shit like this!"

He tuned out her rambling until he was done. "That'd be 400 dollars, please. I'll call up a veterinary hospital and have them pick up your dog."

"That's highway robbery! I bet you let these alien monsters come to you free of charge!" She handed over a pamphlet with the money before storming off.

As soon as the woman had gone he opened a cabinet, revealing an electric masonry saw. Capable of cutting through concrete and stone, it was the only thing that could get through a rock-monster's hide when surgery was needed. The battery was about to go flat; storing it for so long without use had taken its toll.

An angle-grinder was there too; for shaving down the plating of super-powered metal creatures. It was the best he could do with repurposed tools. Luckily, the rock-and-steel Pokemon at least had fairly normal organs, so pre-Shift scalpels could work on them.

The screeching of car tires snapped him out of his thoughts. Soon, he'd handed over the electrocuted puppy over to the veterinary personnel, watching the animal transport van speed off.

His next patient came in - a bipedal, slightly insectoid dragon. A Flygon, if he remembered his all-nighters searching up various Pokemon wikis.

"Hello?"

Trevor blinked. "You want a check-up?" Rumors of Pokemon learning to speak were widespread. Most Pokemons' grasp of English didn't stretch beyond basic greetings if the rumors were anything to go by. "Follow me." He led them into an examination room, taking out various tools. "I'll check your breathing and heartbeat with this." Six months of trial-and-error, as well as a trickle of progress from Earth's scientists, had given him the basics.

The heartbeat and lung check gave an all-clear. He pulled up Bulbapedia and checked the official weight against the one on the scale. "85 kilograms. That's… well not too bad actually."

The Flygon gave a sharp trilling noise in response.

"What– hold on. Are you hurt?"

"No. I am fine."

"Your eyes aren't damaged. That's a good sign. I don't see anything wrong with your claws - no flaking or damage there. You get into a lot of fights?"

An indignant huff and shake of the head was the response.

"Huh, your scales are immaculate. Did you polish them?"

The Flygon crooned and nodded.

"Ears and teeth are fine…" Trevor carefully touched the Flygon's body, checking for any sign of discomfort. "Hmm… you're OK right now. No problems - just take it easy, OK?"

"Yes," it replied. "Thanks." It paused for a moment, seeming to... recognize him?

That train of thought ended as he watched the Flygon leave. Once it reached the nearby city park, it leapt into the air, gave a mighty flap of its wings and headed for parts unknown.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Most were people coming in with injured pets. Illness, broken bones… mundane causes or no, animals needed treatment. Treating animals was a special trade - being able to diagnose a creature despite its inherent inability to meaningfully communicate was something that came with time. Watching for specific signs was the way Trevor handled it - such as a dog yelping when he touched its broken legs.

Then there were Pokemon. Being able to theoretically speak, and intelligent, treating them ought to be easier. The Flygon he'd checked-up was co-operative at least. He reasoned that if it hadn't wanted something, it would've said so.

At the end of the day, he locked the clinic up and went home.

---

Trevor's apartment was mostly orderly, save for his desk. He cleared everything off and began reading the pamphlet.

He looked at the pamphlet. The front prominently displayed the logo of a stylized depiction of two human hands cradling the Earth. Underneath in bold black letters and underlined, read the words "STAND WITH US!"

The back only displayed standard contact information - an email address and phone number. With nothing else of interest to see on the outside, he opened the pamphlet.

---

The Great Shift. The Arrival. Whatever you call it - it is a dangerous sign. A sign that the era of humanity is under threat.

This world was our world for hundreds of thousands of years. It is OUR world. Until these monsters came to destroy it.

Do you remember the last time you walked outside, and you heard the cries of normal birds? Birds that couldn't move things with their minds, become living hoses at the drop of a hat, and didn't breath fire? Monsters that endanger you or your family.

Earth is humanity's birth-right. These Pokemon might have been spawned from a franchise of our world, but one thing is certain. They decimated our plants, slaughtered our animals - not just wildlife, but beloved pets. While our governments wait for them to apologize or correct what they have done, our homes are in ruin. They leave our families starving, and our children afraid to sleep at night.

They have left us no choice. We must eliminate these monsters! For the sake of our children and grandchildren. They will not know the safety of OUR world. They will never see a dog or cat, or know there was a time that animals walked the Earth that couldn't harm them with fire or lightning.

Stand with us. Protect your birth-right and protect your families from this invasion.

---

Trevor looked at the pamphlet contents, then to the street outside. From where he stood, the partially-ruined suburbs of Melbourne were visible. Maybe the pamphlet was right. There were few ordinary birds in the city park now. The woman had good reason to hate Pokemon too - after all her pet was injured.

The pamphlet went into a drawer for later. It wasn't important now. Taking out some canned chicken, tomato sauce and pasta, he made dinner. It wasn't much, but due to the damage caused by Electric-types in the First Days, power was spotty at best even after the work done on the lines. He made a mental note to buy a food dehydrator and brush up on canning.

"Who'd have thought Pokemon existing would be such a pain in the ass…" he muttered to himself as he fell asleep.

---

Trevor released the bowstring on his PVC-pipe bow, An arrow embedded itself into a cardboard box about five feet away.

He sighed. As the only means of defense he could get during the early days of the Shift, it was… better than nothing. But that was all it was. Shaking his head, he went back inside the flat, picking up the bow and arrows as he did so.

Sure, he had better options now. But the bow was the first weapon he had.

---

1 week post-Shift

The hardware shop was devoid of customers. Trevor walked amongst the aisles, taking notes. Many of the racks that once held hammers, knives, axes and crowbars of various shapes and sizes were mostly devoid of stock. The work gear aisle, holding goggles, protective gloves and hard hats was still mostly full.

He picked out a hard hat, boots and protective gloves in his size. With most of the hand tools that could function as improvised weapons gone, he decided to look elsewhere.

A few nights ago, while the Internet wasn't cutting out due to elemental creatures draining the power grid, he'd downloaded a video detailing the makings of a PVC pipe bow. The supplies he needed were in this very shop.

Soon, he'd picked out multiple lengths of PVC pipes, non-stretchy paracord, a large bundle of fiberglass rods, and a cutting saw.

The clerk smiled as she scanned the items.

"Well, that's new. Many people come in here looking for an axe or crowbar or something. They want to fight these things… really, it's a dumb idea."

Trevor had seen first hand the powers of Pokemon, but he decided to humor her. "How so?"

"They don't bother wearing armor. Scratch that, armor isn't all that useful against something that can breathe fire." She frowned. "What are you planning to do with all this stuff anyway?"

Trevor gave an awkward smile. "Just something for a pet project of mine."

---

His brother, Matt, wouldn't be back until five. That, coupled with the fact his own shift was scheduled for tonight, meant he had the house to himself.

Grabbing a pen and notepad, he made a note to visit the local archery range and sign up for extra classes. He'd be a better shot, not that it mattered anyway. In the early days of the Shift, fighting a Pokemon would be assumed to be self-defense. Now, with things having calmed down considerably, walking around with a bow would be frowned on.

A quick glance into Matt's room revealed a pipe-spear leaning on a bed with partially-unmade sheets. It was little more than three metal pipes tightly fit together, with one end cut down to a point. Whenever Trevor looked closer it had bite marks from the time Matt had fought a Pokemon with it. He'd have to ask what Pokemon it was that had done so - though it was not likely he would remember.

The only things of note other than the spear and bed were a dresser with an alarm-clock. He checked the time - just gone half-past one. Lunch was probably in order.

He flicked on the TV as he made a meat sandwich, looking at whatever latest news was up.

The anchorwoman blathered about some anti-Pokemon group named the "Children of Earth" with a logo displayed on the screen. He opened the kitchen drawer and took out the pamphlet he'd been given a few days ago. Yes, there was the same logo on the screen: a stylized picture of two human hands cradling the Earth.

He took another look at the screen. It depicted some members of the group attacking Pokemon with improvised weapons and firearms; a few of them lay injured on the ground from elemental attacks. Trevor noted that the members wore improvised armor made from motorcycle gear and thick work gloves.

He tried to tune out the descriptions of the attack and looked away until another news report came up, this time detailing the first draft of Pokemon rights, drafted by the Australian government. Apparently, the new bill allowed Pokemon free access to public transport and the right to live in city parks if they abided by Australian law.

"Thought I'd seen weird shit when the Pokemon first arrived…" he mumbled. Shaking his head, he shut off the TV and locked up the shared house, putting on an armored motorcycle vest over his clothes.

---

The street outside was mostly empty, with the odd person or Pokemon wandering around. The local park was a stone's throw away - yes, that would be good. He needed to clear his head after all.

The first thing Trevor noticed was the considerably reduced number of weapons people carried. During the first few months, it was common to see someone with a crowbar, axe or hammer in their hands. Others carried their personal firearms during the chaotic time of the initial Shift.

He noticed a few as he walked - a gun and baton holstered on a policemans belt, for example, or a woman with a machete in a scabbard on her hip. Almost no pets were seen - owners had gotten wise to the dangers elemental creatures posed to normal Earth animals.

Before long, he had sat down on a park bench, just watching everything go by. His bow leaned against the bench - holding it was a hassle. The policeman was speaking to the woman about her machete. From this far, it was difficult to hear what was being said, but eventually the woman stormed off in a huff.

Soon, the policeman came towards him.

'G'day! How are you feeling?"

Trevor could only manage a weak smile. "I'm fine, officer."

The policeman looked at Trevor's armored motorcycle vest. "Why are you wearing that? It's boiling hot today."

Trevor gave the set of motorcycle armor he was wearing a light tap. "It's to protect against Pokemon attacks, officer."

"Are you regularly picking fights with monsters?" the policeman asked. "Besides, I don't see how that will stop a ghost from, say, knocking the soul from your body."

"I'm used to wearing armor wherever I go. After all, during the Shift it saved my life on multiple occasions…"

---

1 month post-Shift

Trevor nocked another arrow into his makeshift bow. Crouching behind a barricade of sandbags were a bunch of Australian Defense Force soldiers and armed civilians holding improvised weapons.

He fired at a reptilian Pokemon - a Machop, if his Bulbapedia reading sessions were right . The arrow went wide and missed. Cursing, he tried again. If he ever survived this, he'd have to learn how to make his own arrows.

The Machop reached him and punched him in the chest, right on the armored part of his motorcycle jacket. Trevor grunted and landed in a winded heap. He barely had time to look up before a sphere of dark energy struck the Pokemon in the face and rifle fire tore the Pokemon apart.

A soldier with brown eyes, a blond crew-cut and a beaming smile helped him up. 'Dr. Hermani?"

Trevor smiled weakly as he recognized the face of Private Gavin Connors. He laid Trevor on a stretcher and carried him over to the med-tent.

"Eh. I'm a combat medic. Better for fixing people than an animal doctor."

Trevor desperately wanted to retort, but the pain stopped him. He saw other Pokemon wandering around the town, not in reinforced cages; these were the ones who had volunteered to help. A Pokemon with pink fur and a brilliant red gem inset in its forehead approached. It was an Espeon, if his searching through Bulbapedia was right.

He tried to touch his chest; what little he could reach revealed that his padded motorcycle armor had absorbed most of the impact. It was damaged and would have to be replaced. Without it he'd likely have had more cracked ribs than normal.

Adrian, the owner of the local outdoors shop, came out. He was slightly chubby, with wispy brown hair. "Ah, hello Trevor. Need more arrows again? I can tell you you're better off getting rid of that awful bow. Tell you what, when you're healed up come to me; I might have something for you."

Trevor groaned and smiled weakly as Connors placed an ice pack on his ribs to reduce the swelling and bruises. Both men watched the Espeon out of the corner of their eyes.

"Hello, human." a masculine voice said.

"Get the fuck out of my head, please." Trevor groaned, not wanting to talk at all right now.

"Honestly, it's pretty rude of you to speak to a gentleman like that. I'm Attis."

"Sorry, Attis," Trevor groaned. "Name's Trevor - Trevor Hermani. I'd rather not talk, either with words or whatever right now. Too much pain." He looked down to see the Banette - no, Attis -staring at him.

Adrian picked up the PVC pipe bow and spun it between his hands. "Where'd you get this, the hardware shop? It looks worse than what the panicked buyers who came to my shop bought. Heh, they only got the cheap target-shooting bows!"

Connors shook his head. "Adrian, give Trevor back his bow. As for you, Attis, it'd be better if you let him have his rest. He can't heal anyone or anything while injured."

"Thanks," Trevor groaned. He laid down and slept.

---

Nearly a month later, just as Trevor had recovered enough to walk and bend over without groaning in pain, Matt came up to him.

"Oh, man. Your armor's a mess." Matt clutched a shotgun in his hand - he'd once told Trevor it was a gift for his twenty-first birthday. Trevor shook his head mentally at the thought. If only he'd had a gun! He certainly wouldn't be in this situation right now.

With some awkwardness, Connors aided Trevor in standing. Adrian beamed at him as he approached.

"Ready for your surprise, Trevor?" He led Attis, Matt, and Trevor into the shop.

Adrian placed something on the counter. "Top-of-the-line hunting slingshot. Hope you like it."

Trevor eyed it. It sure looked impressive, sure, but… "What advantages does it have over my bow?"

"Well, Adrian replied. "It's a proper weapon, none of that makeshift shit. Second…" He placed a box of bearings onto the table. "Hunting slingshot ammo. Comes in a box of 200. When you use these two together, it's got the same power as a small handgun!"

Trevor didn't answer. He'd built the bow with his own hands, after all, and it felt… wrong, to part with it. "Hmm, how much does it cost? My bow cost me about ten dollars in materials to make."

"Fifty dollars for the slingshot and twenty-five dollars for the ammo. However…"

Trevor groaned. Adrian kept smiling in a rather off-putting way. No one was this happy in a crisis!

"Well, I'll charge you fifty dollars for the lot. You've been a good customer, buying my arrows to use in that bow, so I thought I'd give a reward."

Matt smiled. "He's right, man. I'd rather you get a better way to defend yourself. Don't want you to die out here." He moved to a rack of guns near the far wall - Trevor noticed that the rack was almost empty. Save for a few lone firearms hanging in a locked cabinet, there were no rifles nor shotguns to be found. A few boxes of ammo in calibers Trevor had not heard of before were locked up in the cabinet behind Adrian.

He must have been seen staring, as Adrian smiled. "Sorry, nothing I can do, Trevor. I can't sell you a gun if you don't have a license."

"But-" Trevor began. "Look. Thanks, but - we're in the middle of a crisis here. Like, this is an uh... invasion..." He pointed his unloaded bow at Attis, who glared at him in response. If his kind are running around causing trouble, I'd definitely want something with a bit more power."

Adrian shook his head. 'Unfortunately, laws are still in effect. Hell, Officer Terwin and his guys have been trying to keep order. This ain't a total apocalypse buddy, no matter what you think. Besides..." He gestured to Matt's shotgun. 'Things are loud as hell. You should get something quieter. This is it."

"he's right. Your thunder-sticks are loud weapons. I've seen what they do; one bang and the target slumps over, just like that." Trevor looked around, noticing Attis had gone up to look at some of the weapons on the rack.

Matt came back with a few boxes of shotgun ammo, placing them on the counter. Adrian scanned them in and everyone watched as Matt paid.

"Look man," Matt replied. "It's on you -you said you didn't want to go clay-pigeon shooting at the local range with me. Betcha wishing you had gotten a firearm license like I had, huh?"

Trevor just shook his head at matt, not wanting to answer.

"Well?" Adrian asked. "Made up your mind?"

Trevor groaned. 'I guess it's a good idea... seems like I don't have much of a choice. None of you guys are helping. Fine…" He took out his debit card and paid. Adrian printed a receipt and handed both the slingshot and the ammo over.

"Enjoy!"

Trevor pretended not to listen as they left.

"Here." Adrian handed him a pair of scissors. "Get that thing open and try it out." He pointed to a nearby tree for emphasis.

Trevor awkwardly opened it, setting the box of ammo and slingshot on the ground. He picked up the included instruction leaflet and began reading.

With a frown, he loaded a hunting pellet and fired. A 'thwip!' was heard before it embedded itself into the tree. He repeated it four more times.

Adrian examined the tree. "You're down five pellets. Still, how was it?"

"I'd say it exceeded expectations." Despite Trevor's desire to sound uninterested as possible, he couldn't hide the amazement on his face.

---

Trevor nodded along with the policeman's words. "Understood, officer. I'll make sure to leave the armor at home next time."

"Oh, it's nothing," he replied. "Just take care out there alright?"

A mute nod was Trevor's only response. He got up and left. On the way, he considered how different it was from the First Days - if his past self was here he'd think that Pokemon had always existed in this world.

He shook the thoughts from his head - more important things were on his mind right now. Besides, Attis had vanished to parts unknown after some months. They probably wouldn't cross paths again, he figured. As for the Flygon seemingly recognizing him... well, he didn't know any Pokemon like that during the First Days. It was better to not worry about it.

Matt hated the night shift at his office. Walking alone home in the cold and carrying a bulky flashlight was one thing. He could deal with the random weirdos who glared at him as he walked by, mostly.

As he stepped onto the sidewalk after his shift, there was nothing save for the sound of the wind. He checked his phone - it had just gone half past ten.

Taking one quick look around to check for Ghost-Types, he stepped out and began his walk home. His bag concealed a can of deodorant and a refillable lighter -an effective flamethrower when applied correctly.

Peeking around a corner, he saw a bunch of Gastly at the end of an alleyway. A quick duck back, and the can and metal lighter were in his hands.

It was all he could carry - fire-based weapons worked great against Ghost-Types, being the only way to consistently damage them. He considered. Firing a weapon would alert the Pokemon and attract unwanted attention. His flamethrower was only good for a couple minutes of use anyway.

No, better to leave them be. He edged past the alleyway's entrance and continued with his walk. Twenty minutes for the trip - twenty minutes too long, in his opinion. Rummaging in his pockets, he took out a heavy-duty flashlight made out of aluminum. The length and weight made it an excellent bashing implement.

Holding it at the ready, he walked on.

---

Trevor stared out the windows of the house through the closed curtains. A lone umbreon streaked past the back porch - the only sign it was there being its glowing rings.

He shook his head. Six months ago it would have been a stray cat. Now it was elemental creatures capable of performing near-magical feats.

Matt's gun was locked in the gun safe, Trevor checked his room; his own hunting slingshot laid on his desk. The box of hunting ammo was down to 50 pellets now; shooting practice and combat during the first months invariably used it up.

He put on his motorcycle jacket and armor on; just in case. The sensation of being watched came back again - no, it was impossible, the wild umbreon had left. Then again it must have been using the darkness to cloak itself.

He shook the thoughts from his head. Such thoughts were useless now - he had to think straight.

---

Matt sneaked past the gaggle of Gastly and looked around. Once he was sure he was out of vision range, he flicked on his flashlight, sweeping it over the general area. In a half-ruined building, a small horde of spinarak scuttled away as light fell on them.

Well, he wasn't ever going that way, not in a million years. There weren't enough aerosol cans in his bag to make his flamethrower slightly more sustainable, either. Going around was the only option, which would almost certainly lengthen his trip.

He shook his head, muttering as he flicked off the flashlight, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. Currently, he had the option of using the flamethrower - precluding him from being able to see clearly using a light source, or using the flashlight itself as both a light source and bludgeon. Switching between either would take too long.

Some time later - whether a few moments or half an hour later, he didn't know - he ducked into an alleyway to rest. Shuffling behind a dumpster caused him to draw his flamethrower.

An Espeon watched him cautiously. "Matt?"

He frowned. 'Er, what? How did you know my - never mind. Psychics."

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh… walking? Y'know. Nothing much to see here." Matt put away the flamethrower and flicked the light on. His flashlight shut off immediately after.

"Keep that light off; you'll draw attention." The Espeon frowned. "Alone? I can see you have no companions with you."

"This counts as one." Matt held up his flamethrower and flashlight. "I think I can make it home by myself."

"There are a lot of Ghost-Types out here. How'd you make it past?"

"I just snuck by!" He stood up to leave. "Your name?"

"What, you don't recognise me? I'm Attis."

Matt frowned. That name rang a bell. "Wait. You're not the same Attis I met in the first few weeks of the Shift, are you?"

"Does it matter? I can help you find your way out if you want."

Matt shook his head. "I'll be fine." He got up and began to leave.

---

Trevor peeked through the closed curtains. No Umbreon in the backyard, or Ghost-Types lurking around. That was good.

Looking at the coffee table, he saw his phone ring. He accepted the call. "Yes? Trevor here."

"Hey, man. There's a lot of Ghost-Types out here. I'll be late home."

Trevor frowned. "You'd better be careful. Do you have any weapons?"

On the other end of the line, Matt rummaged in his pockets. "One heavy-duty metal flashlight and a can of deodorant. There's also a metal lighter from my Dad."

Trevor nodded. "Stay safe out there Matt." The call ended, and he wondered when Matt would come back.

---

The next few alleyways Matt sprinted down led to dead-ends - or, rather, dead ends for most. He jumped the fences and kept moving, pulling out his flashlight each main road was too open for extended travel, in case any potentially hostile Pokemon noticed him. Matt put away his flashlight and peeked out. Beyond the alleyway was the main road. If he ran straight down it would take about seven minutes - probably fifteen at walking pace. The streetlights were on, too, allowing him to see where everything was. No Pokemon around - that was good.

One last glance, and he took off.

---

The knocking at the door shook Trevor out of his thoughts. He opened it to find Matt standing there, roughed-up and exhausted.

"Man, what the hell happened to you?

"Had to run through Pokemon territory to get home. Damn Ghost-types…"

Trevor smiled. "At least you're safe." He led Matt inside and handed him a glass of water. "You didn't bring any weapons did you?" He checked Matt for wounds. "Bandages and first-aid supplies are in the bathroom."

"No," Matt replied. "Why would I? I can't bring my gun with me everywhere! Besides, Ghost-Types are immune to bullets." Before long, he was bandaging himself up. "It's crazy that I have to worry about this now."

"Matt. We've come this far. Six months… we know how to take care of ourselves just fine." He smiled and left.

---

Matt groaned and opened one eye. Trevor was shaking him awake. "Guh, man! What's-"

"I'm going to work now, Matt. Take care of yourself, OK?"

Matt groaned as Trevor left. He looked around before going through his usual morning routine. He had the day off, so relaxing was an option after the stressful experience that was last night. If he didn't know any better he'd describe it as a day like any other.

Sunlight streaming through the windows, the noises as he cracked an egg into the frying pan… He sighed and sprinkled some salt on top.

Harsh cawing, close enough to be from an Earthly animal to ears not used to Pokemon - caught his attention. The neighbors seemed to be having a Spearow problem.

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips. Trevor's slingshot, or his shotgun, would be good for taking on oversized magical birds. Unfortunately, the noise would attract a lot more Pokemon and he'd likely find himself in trouble.

Yeah. Better not to think about that. He went and closed the window, trying his hardest to listen for anything Earthly while eating. There wasn't much, he found out.

He wondered about Trevor. Out of his element, treating creatures he'd never known to be anything but fictional. His brother was resourceful as hell. But then again, anyone who survived the Shift would be. It came with the territory of surviving a massive disaster after all.

He washed his dishes and put them away after he was done, collapsing onto the couch with exhaustion.

---

Trevor gingerly opened the puppy's mouth to check its surgical scars. They'd healed almost completely, and he smiled as he handed it back to the woman - the same woman he'd met a few weeks ago. Her name was Jess Altrina - though he'd never really had reason to check patient records and owner names, until now. Most were concerned owners trying to keep their pets safe.

What counted as 'safe' these days was a little bit different. Keeping one's pets safe from magical monsters was theoretically possible by never letting it out. Still, it was unhealthy for the animal in question, leading several pet owners to arm themselves when walking outside for fear of attack.

He kept on doing the routine check-ups, finding no signs of abnormalities. "Ms. Altrina?" he asked.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Your dog's fine. Keep him away from magical monsters from now on, OK?"

"I tried! Ugh, that's easier said than done in this day and age." She brightened. "Say, why don't we meet for coffee this Friday, 3pm?"

"I wouldn't mind some coffee, myself," he blurted.

Before he could open his mouth, Jess smiled. "Well, fine. I'll be seeing you then." She took her dog and left. From where he stood in the consulting room, he could hear Jess shouting: 'Can someone move that dragon out of the way? Christ..."

Trevor gave himself a quick check in the clinic's bathroom mirror. His hair was slightly unkempt - luckily, unnoticeable until one looked closely - and it was a while since he last slept well. "Hey," Trevor said, straightening his lab coat as he stepped out. He was greeted with the sight of numerous pet owners attempting to edge away from a Flygon - whether it was the same one he met before, he couldn't tell.. A few other pet owners eyed it suspiciously as they clutched their pets tightly to their bodies. "So what brings you here today- oh..."

Ragged holes had been punched in the Flygon's wings. "Fuckers shot at me as I tried to fly away." it replied. "Incinerated one of them; taught their so-called 'friends' a lesson alright. Almost had a bad landing..."

Trevor's eyes bore bags underneath them, and he blinked a few times. "Uh... right... Hang on, are you that same talking Flygon I met before?" He noticed the other pet owners looking shocked. They'd likely never have seen a talking Pokemon before.

Leading it away from the shocked pet owners, they began to talk more freely. Trevor ushered them both into a consulting room and shut the door.

"Well, I recognize you; you smell stressed. We met for ten seconds, if that, during the Shift. I'm sure you don't remember me... and well I don't remember your face either, no offense. But I do remember that I met you, and what you smell like." It shook its head. "My name is Liam. You are Trevor, am I right?"

Trevor gave a nod in response, straightening his uniform.

Back in the First Days, his attire once consisted of a suit of motorcycle armor, severely damaged from alterations with Pokemon. Liam's eyes were drawn to the bow hanging on the wall.

"It's something I put together myself, for self-defense. Not that I'd really tell my clients that." Trevor replied. He noted that Liam's voice had a definite masculine edge to it. "My clients have been through enough already. Their pets are practically their only connection to the world before Pokemon came." He placed medical gauze over the holes in Liam's wings.

"They keep acting scared!" Liam replied with a huff. "Most Pokemon around here, including me, have already got an idea that your animals, especially ones your world keep as pets and companions are not to be eaten!" He eyed the bow on the wall. "It seems like every other human here carries a knife, a bow or a gun of some sort."

"Of course. They work well against Pokemon." Trevor looked at the holes in Liam's wings. "I think you're free to go. I'd recommend you rest your wings while they heal–"

"Yeah, of course." You're going to say, 'Don't fly too much'. I guess another tip should be added onto it; 'Stay the fuck away from the Children of Earth.'"

"How'd you know about them?"

"I overheard some humans talking about them. Ugh, I swear - humans are sometimes the dumbest beings you'll ever meet..."

"I am a human myself, and I think my job as a medical worker is a counterpoint."

"Whatever. Y'know, when we first met, you wore a suit of leather armor. You smelled of blood back then, it was easy for me to imagine the myriad injuries that lay beneath it." Liam turned and walked away.

The next patient was brought in, and Trevor resumed his work, trying to put the conversation out of his mind.

Chapter 1

Spoiler:

Cavespider_17 wrote:Chapter 1

Spoiler:

Hey, thanks for the review - I'm sorry it took so long to get back to you. Yeah, I've already rectified some of the points in the soon-to-be-released Chapter 4. It should be up in a few moments.

The coffee shop was almost empty. Jess sat opposite Trevor, a cup of coffee in her hand. As both of them sipped their drinks, not saying much. Jess coldly asked, "What's your story?"

Trevor sighed looking at his cup. "From the Shift? Not much really."

Jess huffed, "There's gotta be something interesting."

"I suppose I could tell you about the time my ribs got broken due to Pokémon," Trevor said. "So, a month or so post-Shift, I was taking a walk through town with a makeshift bow at my side - some asshole of a Machop punched me in the chest." He looked around relieved that no-one paid the duo much mind; the other patrons were either eating or engaged in conversations of their own.

Jess almost spat out her coffee. "Wow, how are you still alive? It must have hurt!"

"Armor." Trevor gingerly touched the mostly-healed ribs. Running still hurt like hell and strenuous activity could make him double over, but still it was an improvement over chest pain while walking. "What about you? Did you fight anything?"

Jess shrugged, and paused before she continued, "So how did you feel when the Pokémon first showed up?"

"Really confused," Trevor replied. "Who wouldn't feel that?"

"We have a discussion group next Tuesday at 8pm if you want to share your story. It's held in the East Melbourne library. Bring your friends or family along; they are welcome to attend if they want." Jess took a business card from the desk, before writing down the time and venue on the back.

"Is this discussion group a regular thing?"

"Yes. It's bi-weekly. You are free to come and go to these meetings as you please. I strongly recommend attending as many meetings as you can; working through this event will require a lot of support."

The duo finished their coffees at the same time, before they paid for their portions of the bill. Jess gave only a curt nod to Trevor before she turned and left.

---

Days of work passed in a blink. Most of the clients that came to the vet clinics were humans with their Earth-native pets, suffering from various complications.

"There you go, sir," he said to an elderly man who hugged his pet cat tightly. "Take care."

The man nodded as he paid. "I don't know what my sons are talking about, with these so-called Pokey-mans wandering around. I just hope they become less of a problem soon. There are dragons flying around now. What if one snatches my cat and eats it? He's all I have left." He shuffled out of the clinic.

Trevor noted that there were much less Pokemon coming. He briefly wondered what had happened to Liam. Most Pokemon weren't really regular with their check-ups, and he couldn't blame them. There were a lot of Pokemon that could heal themselves or other Pokemon after all.

The thought was dismissed as he brought in the next client.

---

Matt noticed his brother packing his phone, wallet and keys. "Hey Trevor. Night shift?"

Trevor turned around. "No. There's an event at the local library. A discussion group. It's free to join. Want to come?"

Matt frowned, then nodded. "Yeah, alright. Not like I have anything to do at the moment besides watch depressing news on how Pokemon changed the world. What's it about?"

"Pokemon. You know. The Shift."

"I hope the stories are entertaining." Matt grabbed his belongings and got into the car with Trevor. "How was your day at the clinic? I hope less Pokemon and animals are getting hurt."

---

Matt pulled the car into the parking space and stopped the car. He checked his watch - 7:55pm. That gave them a bit of time to actually find the group. Both men stepped out and entered the library. It closed at 10:30pm - more than enough time for a meeting, they decided.

They sat down, reading books and magazines, as a group of nine people came in to sit at a bunch of pushed-together tables. Matt got up and moved to the group.

"I heard of a discussion group meeting here at eight. Is this the right place?"

The woman frowned. "What discussion group?"

"About the uh, Shift." Matt scratched his head. "Sorry, I've got my brother with me. Heard that this was a place to share our stories."

Her face brightened. "Of course. Yes, we're just starting. Bring your brother over and we'll talk."

Trevor came over and sat down, as did Matt.

"I'm Matt. This is my brother, Trevor."

The people around the table looked at each other, and the stories began.

If anyone had asked Trevor who Jess Altair was, he'd have described her as an indifferent woman, somewhat cold and distant. Here, she smiled and nodded along when people talked.

"Oh, of course," a blonde woman with her hair tied up in a ponytail said. Her name was Nicole. "I was a paramedic, so no wonder I was sent to get the wounded off the streets. Nothing stops work even with an elemental monster invasion."

"How did that make you feel?" Jess asked, staring at Nicole through her glasses.

"Can we just say 'confused' and move on with that?" Nicole asked, rather uncertain. 'Look, that's the general stuff, OK? But really… I was scared, after seeing some of the damage they were capable of."

"You were right to be scared, considering their powers." Jess replied, pointing to another person. "You?"

"Barry," the man replied. He wore a light jacket over some gray sweatpants and a blue hoodie. "I was caring for my daughter when the Pokey-mans arrived. Closed all the curtains and locked every window and door I could find. We hid in there for a few days till the military came through and gave us a hand in evacuating."

Nicole looked at him. 'You didn't try to drive off like so many others. That was a smart move considering the traffic and chaos."

Barry grinned. "Hell, yeah. We only had supplies for a few days. Man, the power was knocked down early on, so we lived off the canned food we had for a week. Had to throw out so much food when it went bad..."

"Would it be a really good idea to stay though?" Matt replied. 'I mean, Trevor did considering he was a medical worker and people need to take care of their pets. But couldn't–"

"Hell, no. I'm not leaving my house behind. Safer than trying to drive through the desert for sure. Lots of monsters are turning up there now, I've heard."

Nicole looked around. "There were less monsters running around in the first days."

Barry glared at her. "You nuts? I'm not crossing paths with an electric lizard so it can fry me. My daughter only has me!"

Nicole looked at Barry before going silent. The group went around the table, showing more stories. Neither Matt nor Trevor were sure how many were embellished.

A young man who had by some miracle, managed to stab a Gyrados through the eye when it attacked him, killing it. Another woman whose son had brought a small Pokemon home after it befriended the family dog of all things.

Finally, the group reached Matt and Trevor. They duo looked at each other.

"I got my ribs broken by Pokemon once," Trevor said. Everyone turned to look at him. "The reason I'm alive is because I wore a set of leather motorcycle armor with a thick, padded plastic guard."

Barry stared at them. 'The hell, man. What sort of Pokemon was it?"

"Machop. These things are really strong for their size. Like being hit with a full-power punch from two grown men."

Jess watched both of them with a cold expression. "Do you have any negative impressions of these particular Pokemon after that?"

"Of course!" Trevor replied. "I mean they broke my ribs! Being reluctant to be near Pokemon of these species is only natural. Hell, I upgraded from my makeshift bow after that."

"What else?" Jess asked. Her gaze bored into Trevor and Matt, making them shudder.

Both men shook their heads. Matt turned to the man who had stabbed a Gryados to death by pure, dumb luck - Adrian.

"Do you remember anything regarding what happened?" Matt asked. "When you stabbed that Gyarados thing to death, that is."

"Look, all I remember is the fact that it had probably dozens of teeth that could bite me in half." Adrian replied. "Not much else I can say."

Jess pointed to Matt. "What about you?"

Matt straightened out his jacket. 'I did the same as Barry here. Closed the curtains, made as little noise as possible. Trevor, the crazy guy that he was, still went to work despite the dangers. My office job was put on hold due to the chaos." He nudged Trevor. "At least I don't have broken ribs."

Jess watched Matt as he continued. "I always looked up to my brother. Hell the fact that he still went to work to help people despite the dangers was quite admirable. I think if he'd stayed home he wouldn't be in this situation." Both Trevor and Matt glanced at each other, before Matt smiled. "I managed to work up the nerve to leave the house after a month. So there was that."

Jess watched him intently. "How did you work yourself up to leave?"

Matt shrugged. 'There wasn't much food and water left in the house. I saw soldiers patrolling and fewer Pokemon on the streets. So I was essentially forced to leave, with my shotgun in hand. Even got a little temporary gig helping out in defending the suburbs. I don't have anything else to say."

Alright." Jess said. "Meeting's finished. I'll see you all next week! Flyers for the group are available if you want them." She pointed to a pile near her. Most of the attendants thanked her and walked away without saying a word. Matt and Trevor went to take a pamphlet before walking away.

---

"That was a good meeting," Matt said.

"Yeah." Trevor put the car into gear. He'd have laughed at some of the stories if it didn't make his chest hurt so much. "Though I wonder if these stories were exaggerated."

Neither of them spoke a word as they pulled into the driveway.

---

There was decidedly a pattern to vet visits on the Post-Shift Earth. Multiple times Trevor saw that the clients were predominantly human or Pokemon - not much of an even split. They both kept to themselves, sitting on opposite sides of the waiting room. An occasional glare would be seen between them, but that was it.

No-one wore armor anywhere on their bodies, and he couldn't blame them. While his reinforced motorcycle jacket was still very viable for everyday usage when he was off the job, the damage to his ribs meant the additional hard plastic chestplate, once used before the Shift by riders who were safety conscious, had to be ditched.

He'd left the business card with the scribbled-down venue and the flier for the discussion group on the table as temporary storage. No-one would see it anyway - and it wasn't like Pokemon were capable of reading.

Liam glanced at the table. "What are these?"

Trevor smiled. "Oh, contact cards for a cafe and a flier for a discussion group."

"Discussion group?"

"About the Shift. People went there to talk about their experiences. I told them how my ribs were broken. Boy, that got a rise out of everyone." He chuckled, which caused his chest to flare up in pain. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I think the only positive story told there was a dog from Earth that brought something called a Growlithe home to its owners." He continued examining Liam. "I guess your wings are doing better. See you around."

As Liam left, Trevor opened the glass doors separating the clinic and the waiting room to call the next patient. Without Pokemon around, many of the owners had relaxed their grips on their pets.

A young man holding a kitten like a baby walked up to him with a look of disbelief.

"Did that Pokemon just talk?!"