Okay, I guarantee you this is better than my ViridianShipping fan fic. -doesn't want to remember it-
And this is also posted on Pokecommunity. Yes, I am SilverSmeargleSplatter one there. You can ask Ed Phoenix.
Also, seeing as this is a FeelingShipping story, I don't want any lashing. I like OldRival, I like Special. So what? MIx it up a little.
READ THIS BEFORE YOU READ A WORD OF THIS STORY!
This story deals with some pretty intense material. Not the action, but mentioning. If you have a problem with abuse(of any kind) or rape, I suggest you hit the back button.
This is rated PG-13 - R, and like mentioned above, it deals with intense things. If you're going to be immature about it, hit the back button NOW. You have been warned.
There she was. She lay beside a tree on her injured side, weeping to herself. Cold water droplets from the dark night sky fell on her limp body. Her yellow dress was tattered, and her bare feet were blackened from running. She was a little dirty herself, but even still, she was beautiful. Her long, silky blonde hair draped over her and her once innocent eyes stared vacantly ahead of her. Those eyes used to shine a bright, golden yellow, but that was gone now. Her soft face used to express youthful joy—complete happiness. But, this too, was absent. Her face was now blank, apathetic, and lost in despair.
The rain continued to fall on her. It was cold, but it soothed her. The chill of the rain was numbing the physical injuries she had endured. She could no longer feel that pain—the pain of a strike to the face or broken glass against her skin. Sadly, it was still obvious what she had struggled through. The bruises, scratches, and scars still remained. There was much recovering for Yellow to do.
“I’ve had enough,” she whispered weakly to herself, still staring ahead.
In her current condition, there was nothing Yellow could do. She was lucky to have made it to where she was now. All she could do was lie there and continue to watch the rain fall, and pray that he would not be on the hunt for her. He would drag her from her safe haven and throw her back into the hell she had just escaped. And then there was the punishment for running away…
Yellow shuddered at the thought and continued watching the rain, now with fear in her eyes.
If he finds me, I’m done for, she thought. But this is what he wants…he wants me to be afraid. That’s how he wins…
“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” she said to herself, her eyes now shifting around, searching for anything else to bring hope.
“He is fear,” she whispered before starting to sob once again. “What did I get myself into?”
Yellow clutched the dirt underneath her hands. What could she do at this point? She could not get up and run, as her legs were too sore from injuries, and still tired from running away. “Help…” she whispered weakly, “please…”
Time was passing slowly and painfully, with only the sound of Yellow’s sobs and the skies' tears.
The silent passing was interrupted by the sound of a twig being snapped from behind her.
Yellow’s heart started to pound furiously. She could not turn around to see who—or what—it was, which frightened her even more. Still, she remained silent and hoped she could be invisible to the oncoming stranger.
“Hello?” a familiar voice called from the trees.
Yellow gasped from hearing a voice of decent tone—not yelling, not screaming, but pleasant to hear.
A young man holding a large, black umbrella over his spiky brown hair walked out from the trees. His black jacket kept him warm from the cold rain and his jeans and black boots had splotches of mud on them. His bright green eyes studied Yellow curiously. He did not overreact to the sight, but still looked at her body with concern.
“Yellow?” he called quietly.
“Green!” she replied quickly, her eyes now wide with hope.
Green walked closer to Yellow and knelt down, still examining her injured body. He was in awe—how could anyone mistreat this sweet soul?
“Yellow,” he said as he gingerly placed his hand over hers, “I’ll help you.”
He leaned his umbrella against the tree and gently lifted Yellow from where she lay into his arms.
“Green, I…I wish I didn’t…” she whispered, but started to cry into Green’s jacket.
“Yellow, who did this?” Green asked with a concerned tone in his voice.
“I can’t tell you!” Yellow cried. “He’ll do it again! I can’t!!”
She started to struggle away, but Green tightened his hold on her. “Yellow, don’t be like this. I just want to know who could hurt this beautiful face,” he reassured her, giving her a small smile and wiping a tear from her face.
Yellow looked into Green’s sincere, emerald eyes. She could not help but to smile back—a smile she had long since forsaken.
“There you go! I haven’t seen that smile in a long time!”
“I know…” Yellow replied with a small laugh.
There was a silence as Green and Yellow sat in their embrace. Green slowly stroked Yellow’s silky blonde hair to comfort her. Yellow felt safe in Green’s arms, a feeling she had not had felt in a long time. She was so used to living in fear and pain that she had long forgotten what it felt like to be safe.
But there was another feeling. She could not quite put her finger on it, but it was a good feeling. She felt as if her life was going to get better from that point—a feeling like hope, but with something more to it. Hope was only a minor part of this feeling. There was a lot more. Warmth, joy, security—a mixture of feelings that combined into a more intense sensation. She just could not name it.
“He didn’t always treat me this way.” Yellow said solemnly, ending the silence.
“Who?” Green asked calmly. He didn’t want to pester her or make her feel uneasy.
“Lance. The first six months were just fine, but then he…he started to go back to his old self. He still wants a utopia for Pokemon. Every time I would try to protest his ideas, he would…he…” Yellow started to hesitate. She had never told this to anyone.
“It’s okay. You can tell me,” Green assured her while tightening his embrace.
“He would hit me, Green. Tell me I was stupid and hit me…”
“Yellow, I’m so sorry,” Green replied quietly.
"Then he started drinking…a lot.” Yellow continued with a frantic tone, “He’s a brutal drunkard. I can’t tell you how many bottles I’ve been a target for, or how many beatings I’ve suffered through.”
“Did he do anything else to you?” Green asked anxiously.
At this question, Yellow let her self out of Green’s hold so that she could look him in the eyes.
“The worst,” she started reluctantly, shifting her eyes around to avoid tears, “is that when I wouldn’t give in to his demands…he would take it upon himself to get what he wanted.”
“Yellow, he didn’t—“
“He would rape me…” Yellow whispered, almost to where you couldn’t hear her voice.
Green pulled Yellow into a strong embrace. He did not want to let her go now, not after everything Yellow had just told him.
But there was something about holding Yellow that made Green happy. Just knowing that she could tell him something as serious as her relationship with Lance assured him that she truly trusted him, and that he could do the same with her. But there was more to this feeling, and he realized what it was.
“Yellow, look at me,” Green said abruptly.
Yellow’s golden yellow eyes gazed up into Green’s bright, emerald eyes. Green leaned in closer to Yellow’s face and kissed her lips softly.
Yellow wrapped her arms around Green and rested her head on his chest.
“I love you,” Green whispered in her ear.
Yellow did not say anything, but her tighter hug said enough to Green.
This was a new beginning—this time with someone who cared.