Call him what you will. He was a tired old man, and he was done with all of the politics, all of the games, all of the back room dealing. For as long as Blaine could remember, he'd been jerked around, this way and that by this man or that man. Personalities bigger than life itself had browbeat him into submission again and again.

He'd never been the overly ambitious sort. Not in Pokemon, not even in science. For Blaine, it was enough to be moderately successful. It was enough to be plodding along and doing okay in life. He'd studied hard and trained hard when he was younger, of course. His love for his Fire Type Pokemon came from being something of a firebrand in his youth.

But at a certain point, around the time he ascended to become Gym Leader of Cinnabar Island, Blaine had realized… it was enough. He didn't need to do anything more than what was necessary to maintain his position. Certainly, he had no desire to be a member of the Elite Four, nor challenge for the title of Pokemon Champion.

He was happy being the biggest fish in his own small pond, happy to be the big dog on Cinnabar Island.

But of course, while he was happy with that… that didn't mean anyone else was happy to just leave him alone. There would always be men and women out there who seemed to think the world should revolve around them. More than that, there would always be men and women out there who, under the right circumstances, parts of the world DID revolve around them.

When Johto came knocking with Lance as the General at the head of their army, Blaine had been called to service just like every other able-bodied fighter that Kanto could call upon. He was already pretty old by that point, of course. If not for his capacity with his Fire Type Pokemon, he might even have been allowed to stay out of the war altogether.

But no, he was a Gym Leader, which was a sort of quasi-sheriff position in Kanto's towns and cities. If he wanted to maintain his lifestyle, if he wanted to keep his position, he needed to fight. And Blaine had gotten too used to being Cinnabar's Gym Leader to just give it up all willy-nilly.

Of course, he also felt some level of patriotism towards his country, as well. Just… nothing on the level that others felt. Though even there, Blaine had his doubts.

You see, even early on in the war, it was pretty damn clear that Kanto was going to lose. But rather than sue for peace or attempt to find a way to make things better for everyone involved, the people at the top started looking into… alternatives. Blaine, with his background in science, had been dragged into it all of course. But, and it might have been just him who realized it… it was pretty obvious from the start that certain individuals cared more about holding onto their own personal power, over saving Kanto and keeping the country independent.

Samuel Oak hadn't even taken a fucking sick day when his son and daughter-in-law had died. Perhaps the man had simply mourned out of sight, perhaps he'd cried himself to sleep every damn night for the past two decades over it, but out in the open where Blaine and the others could see, he was cool as a cucumber.

Then, when the Catastrophe happened… he'd become distant. Withdrawn. Ultimately, he'd stopped engaging with them altogether, effectively removing himself from the Mewtwo Project. He had to have known what that did to morale. Samuel Oak, Kanto's Leader, their Pokemon Champion… had seemingly given up.

Giovanni had continued to fund their efforts of course, and the rest of them had managed to make something despite Oak's intransience, but ultimately, Mewtwo was… never going to help them. They hadn't created a weapon, no matter what the others thought. They had created a living, thinking being, who had made her own decision. And that decision was to leave.

… Giovanni was another man who couldn't stand losing. Oh sure, the businessman wrapped it up all nicely in his patriotism and his zealotry, acting as though everything he did was for 'The Cause' and that all he cared about was returning Kanto's sovereignty to it.

But Blaine knew better. The fucking Cause had been dead in the water for eighteen years. Giovanni and Team Rocket was nothing but the man spinning his wheels and wasting his life trying to avenge the insult dealt to him by Lance. Giovanni couldn't accept that they'd lost. But more than that, he couldn't accept that Lance had kicked him off of the Elite Four.

If he'd wanted to, Giovanni could have made a business that, while not competing directly, would have rivaled Silph Co. in financial success by this point. His Rocket Game Corner could have been developed into a full-blown casino that would have led to Celadon City directly rivaling its sister city of Saffron in terms of development and progress.

Instead, Celadon was always two steps behind Saffron, and all the wealth of the Game Corner was in turn put into Giovanni's underground enterprises, his criminal organization.

One might wonder, if this was how Blaine felt about it all, why the fuck he'd sided with Giovanni and helped him out all these years. Well, better the devil you know then the one you don't, right? While he technically could have turned on Giovanni entirely and delivered the other man to Lance with the things, he knew… Blaine was well aware that the current Pokemon Champion wouldn't truly appreciate it. He wouldn't shower Blaine with immense wealth or give him gifts.

At least with Giovanni, Blaine could make a tidy profit. And truth be told, maybe Blaine was something of a patriot, because in the end… he'd rather side with a Kanto man like Giovanni where he could, while keeping his head down otherwise.

But that was the kicker. He would ONLY side with Giovanni where he COULD. And shit had gotten way too damn hot recently for Blaine to stick his neck out for the man and Team Rocket any longer, damnit!

First it was Fuji, sending that message to all of his former colleagues. Blaine had to admit, even though Fuji hadn't called him out in particular, he'd certainly felt like there was someone breathing down his neck. Luckily, Giovanni had let him off the hook.

… And then Oak's letter had come, and Blaine had KNOWN someone was breathing down his neck. Of everyone he thought would decide to come after him, he'd never thought it would be the disgraced Pokemon Champion. But one thing was for shit-sure, even after nearly twenty years, the Pokemon Professor still had a way with the written word. That letter Oak had sent him was positively dripping with menace, and ultimately… ultimately, it had scared Blaine shitless.

He was an old man, but that didn't mean he wanted to die, nor did it mean he wanted to spend the rest of the time he had left in prison. He wasn't going to jail for Giovanni or his organization. Oak's letter meant one thing and one thing only… it was time to go to ground.

Thankfully, Blaine had a ready-made bunker waiting for him on his very own island. The Pokemon Mansion had a basement behind some nice solid metal doors and was stocked with all the supplies Blaine could need to wait out this whole shitshow until everything was over.

Yes, down here he could kick back and relax a little bit, assured that he would-

"What in Arceus' name are you doing here?!"

Jumping to his feet, torn from his introspection, Blaine's eyes are wide behind his tinted glasses as he takes in the Rocket Admin that has just stepped into view in front of him. Coming out of fucking nowhere like some damn apparation, the baby-faced, pink-haired young man stops and stares at Blaine with judging eyes.

Or at least, they certainly feel judging. It takes Blaine a moment to place the familiar face, and when he does, he damn near chokes on his own spit.

"You! You're that Grunt from Giovanni's Office! But you're dressed like one of his Admins! How the… no, better question, how the FUCK did you get down here?! Don't you know this place is a damn death trap!"

Blaine had been counting on it, in fact. He'd been counting on the dangers and perils of the Pokemon Mansion, from its frequent looters, to its wild and untamed Pokemon wandering the halls, to keep out any would-be vengeance seekers out for his blood. Obviously, he hadn't expected it to keep out anyone truly talented, but all of THOSE types should have been way too busy to come after him personally. After all, it wasn't like Lance or Giovanni were going to waste their time coming all the way to Cinnabar Island just to deal with one old man, right?

Well, right… obviously, Giovanni had not done that. Instead, he'd sent a kid. Okay, so maybe the kid wasn't a kid, but when you got as old as Blaine, everyone that young was a kid. And this… this was honestly a little insulting.

"You must be the youngest Rocket Admin I've ever seen. Giovanni must be getting desperate. You know this only confirms my suspicions, right? Team Rocket is on the way out. It's over. Giovanni is done. And I… I don't want any part of it, do you hear me?"

The young Admin's eyes narrow ever so slightly, and he reaches for his waist, where a collection of six Pokeballs sit. Seriously?! Blaine gapes for a moment, and then laughs, reaching down past his lab coat for his own Pokemon.

"You really want to do this, kid? You think you have a chance against a Gym Leader? You might have gotten an easy promotion off of some kiddie shit, but this… this is the Big Leagues, kiddo. You aren't ready to play."

Now, he doesn't have his full set of Pokemon with him. But he does have his toughest, as well as a couple of youngin's he's been training up. If this were an official Gym Challenge, Blaine would start with the Growlithe or Ponyta he's keeping on him, to build things up a bit.

As it is, this is life or death, so his hand goes right past them, and grabs hold of the ball holding his Arcanine. As he throws it out, summoning the massive flame-wreathed dog in front of him, he also palms the ball carrying his Rapidash. Maybe it's not fair, maybe it's against all sorts of rules… but Blaine doesn't need to follow rules with criminals.

With Arcanine hiding his actions from the young Admin across the room, Blaine summons his Rapidash as well, the fully evolved Fire Horse Pokemon letting out a neighing sound as Arcanine snarls right alongside it. Both of them face off with the Admin, who has pulled just one Pokeball off of his belt and.

"Give it up, kid! You can't possibly-!"

"Go, Gyarados."

Now, the basement of the Pokemon Mansion is pretty sizable. Spacious, even. High ceilings, wide rooms. Actually, it's quite the perfect place for a Pokemon Battle, even if Blaine knew he needed to be careful with his fire-based attacks, lest he die from smoke inhalation, or burn the place down around him.

However, Gyarados are, in general, somewhere around twenty to twenty five feet long. And this one? He's on the big side. As the massive serpentine Pokemon comes out of the Rocket Admin's Pokeball, Blaine gapes at it.

"Gyarados, use Surf."

"WHAT?! NO!"

With a roar of its massive, gaping maw, Gyarados rears back… and spews water straight from its mouth. The water quickly forms up into a wave that covers the entire room from end to end… and comes straight for Blaine and his Pokemon.

Letting out a particularly undignified screech of pure fear, Blaine ducks behind the desk to avoid the crashing wave. His Arcanine and Rapidash however, don't fare quite as well. When the dust, or rather the water finally settles, and Blaine chances a peek up over the desk, it's to see that his strongest two Pokemon have been utterly flattened in one move.

It wasn't just the Type Disadvantage either. Blaine wasn't an idiot. He lived on an island surrounded by water, and yet had been a Fire Type Trainer all his life. When half of your challengers come at you with freshly caught Water Pokemon from the damn ocean that surrounds your home, you learn to adapt. Your Pokemon, even the Fire Types, learn to adapt as well.

Blaine doesn't like to toot his own horn very often, lest it draw unwanted attention, but he's always secretly believed that his Arcanine and Rapidash, the two that have been with him for decades… are almost no longer weak to Water Moves. That they've been exposed to them so often by this point, that it's no longer quite super effective.

… In this case, none of that exposure training mattered one bit. The Admin's Gyarados was so monstrously strong that he'd taken Blaine's two stronger Pokemon out in one hit.

As the Gym Leader mournfully calls his Pokemon back into their balls, he becomes aware of attention on him. Holding up his hands in surrender, he cries out as the Rocket's Gyarados looms overhead.

"W-Wait! Please, I give up! I surrender! I never wanted this! Not any of it! I'm sorry, okay! I'm sorry!"

Cringing back, the old man lays his soul bare, well aware that deep inside, at his heart… he is a coward. And maybe in these final moments he doesn't hold himself with any dignity or self-respect, but he can't help wanting to save his own skin.

After a beat… the larger presence in the room vanishes, and Blaine opens his eyes to see the young Admin has recalled his Gyarados and is staring at Blaine in expectant silence. Taking the opportunity to do what he's always done; Blaine gets to brown-nosing.

"I promise… I believe in the cause! I do! You have to understand, it wasn't my choice! Oak… that bastard, he's still pulling the strings!"

There's a slight twitch from the Rocket at that, and he holds up a familiar piece of parchment… the letter.

"Y-Yes! So you see… you understand! I had to hide. Oak wants to sick those Johto hounds on me, d-damnit! I had to get them off my trail."

Unfortunately, his explanation doesn't seem to have as much of an effect on the Rocket Admin as he might have wanted. For a moment, Blaine racks his brain, trying to remember if he'd heard back in Giovanni's Office… ah, that was right.

"Cam! Your name is Cam, yes? Look, Cam… can't you just let me go? I'll leave and never return, I'll-!"

But no. Cam's hand crushes the letter, and he slowly shakes his head back and forth. Blaine's mouth is dry as he realizes what orders the Admin might be operating under, to be so intractable.

"D-Damn him. Damn Giovanni… I'm a Gym Leader for Pete's Sake! An Academic! I'm not… not some petty criminal! I… fine. I submit. Tell him I'll fall in line. I'll even go back to making Porygon, if that's what he wants. Just know… he's using me up here. I'm a limited resource, and all Oak has to do is pull the trigger and there will be a Lance-shaped bullet bearing down upon my bald head! You got that?"

But of course, Giovanni wouldn't send someone with any scruples or morals. Certainly, he wouldn't promote someone who wasn't utterly merciless. The magenta-haired Admin merely nods his head sharply… and then turns to leave. Blaine watches him go, mouth agape and shoulders slumped in both relief and defeat. He'd kept his life… but at what cost? As soon as Oak found out he wasn't staying out of things, it was probably all over for him.

Still, better than to die here and now to that young man and his impossibly powerful Pokemon. In the end, it seemed Blaine had been forced to pick his final side. Maybe… maybe if Giovanni had a powerful subordinate like that kid at his side, they stood a chance after all, again both Oak and Lance.

In the end, that was the best Blaine could hope for. He was just a tired old man, being torn apart by forces outside of his control…

-x-X-x-

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