He stood at the end of a long dark tunnel. Around him came the hollow, but distant, sounds of voices. Pleading, lonesome voices.

"Please save us."

"What did we ever do to you?"

"Why can’t we be free?"

He shivered, hugging himself, aware that he wore naught but his underclothing. But it was not the air that bit chill into his bones, it was the very atmosphere. A swirling silver mist surrounded the edges of the hallway, swirling a spiralling in wisps and little clouds.

"Save us!" The wisps formed a face, but not a human face, any fool could see that.

"Release us!"

"Avenge us!"

"I, I wish I could," the man stammered, hugging himself closer. And at the end of the hallway he could see it, a shimmering colourful mist.

A rainbow.

He stepped down the hallway. One step, two steps.

The voices swirled around him.

"You are a failure, James, you will never amount to anything."

"Jamsie-girl, Jamsie-girl."

"It’s all your fault!"

"I see once again, you have failed me."

He closed his eyes, stepping forward another step, another.

A woman stood before him, a Meowth-morph. Blood trickled from a hole in her heart.

"You failed me," she whispered. "You failed to protect me, and He killed me."

"I am your worst nightmare," a face appeared then just as quickly was drawn away.

"Just get out and don’t come back!"

"Look’s like Team Rocket’s blasting off again."

"Why don’t you just give up?"

Something sprang in front of him. A Meowth.

"Yer let me die," he said, putting his feline hands on his hips. "Yer let dem take me away and day killed me. Yer didn’t even try ter stop ‘em. Yer always was a coward James."

Hot tears stung his face, seering down his cheeks like burning icicles.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he said.

"Well yer did, yer made me dead. Yer killed me just like yer killed that poor Meowth-chick. Da one dat He got. Yer couldn’t even protect yer own friends. What kind of friend was yer? Who lets dem take one of their friends away an’ be killed. What kind of friend?"

Suddenly the cat hovered before him.

"Da kind of friend dat you are!"

The claws came out and he barely could pick up the esteem to pull away as they sliced the air in front of his face. "I’m sorry," he whispered again.

"Of course yer sorry, yer always bloody sorry, but dat don’t make me any less dead, does it? No. It don’t make dat poor hooker any less murdered.

Yer’re a failure James-girl, a failure!"

It was probably the use of that particular phrase that caused James to call forth enough anger to push away the Meowth and push on through the cloying mist. It was getting thicker now and he could hear the voice behind him taunting.

"Jamsie-girl, Jamsie-girl!"

Clenching his teeth, the blue-haired man bravely, or at least boldly, pushed on.

Another two steps, a third…

The mist dived in, as though it were alive, blocking his way. Suddenly it exploded away and a woman stood there, clad in a small top and an extremely short skirt.

"You betrayed me, you abandoned me!" She glared at him, her eyes azure, almost violet. "You were my friend and you left me in that place to die inside."

"I, I’m sorry," he stuttered. He could not seem to form the words right. He was frightened very frightened, he had never been so frightened of her before. She was his friend, and he loved her like a sister, the sister he never had. But now, now her anger shocked even he, and he was well used to her temper. "Please forgive me."

"I could never forgive you!" She screamed at him, her hands clasping at her improbably large hairstyle. "Do you know what happened? Do you? When you ran, I was left behind, trying to stop the freaks from escaping. Do you know what that was like?"

He shuddered at the word "freak."

"It was terrible, terrible. A Nidoking freak came out of nowhere. He lowered his head and speared me right through, see!" Her hands clasped her stomach and when she drew them away he saw a gaping hole, blood and venom dripping from it. He shuddered.

"You were responsible for my death, you killed me!"

"No," he whispered, "you were my best friend, I loved you…"

"Yes well," she said, lifting his chin up with her gloved hand. Her eyes were filled with fire and the wound in her stomach had vanished. "I never loved you, boy, hah, I was glad when they separated us, glad when they finally got you the hell away from me!"

"Don’t do this to me," he whispered. "Please don’t."

"Why not?" She taunted, crossing her arms. "You never could stand up to me, could you? No, you always were a whiny little wimp. Always wanting to do what was right. No wonder we were failures! You made us that way!"

Something in him finally snapped. Maybe it was years of abuse, maybe it was just that he had, finally managed to assert himself by helping the Pookamon. Whatever it was, he brought his emerald eyes up to her sapphire ones.

"You are not her," he said, his eyes blazing with an inner fire that matched hers. "You are a spectrum, a shade. Something that frightens children.

Jessie would never treat me this way."

Suddenly she turned away from him, her shoulders hunching and shaking.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry," she whispered, and he fancied she was crying. "I just, its so cold here, so cold and dark. Please James, stay with me and keep me warm."

His heart melted, he always had been too tender hearted and what if this was not a shade? What if it was his friend and companion? He had to help her.

"I’m sorry," he crouched down beside her, putting his arm about her. "I never wanted to hurt you."

She kept sobbing and sobbing.

"Please stop it…" He whispered.

She turned and looked up at him, but he saw that her tears were red, red and thick. Like blood.

He pulled back. "What is happening here?" He asked. "What is going on?"

"I’m sorry James," she said. "I get so lonely." He saw her face was covered in blood. "You did this to me, please, comfort me."

He wanted to, he really wanted to, but there was something wrong here.

"Jamsie-girl" the walls whispered, "failure," "nothing…"

He pushed her aside. "I’m sorry Jess, but I have to catch the rainbow."

He turned his gaze back to the myriad of colours and began walking.

He did not look back.

Something fell in beside him, striding, something large and striped. He barely gave it a glance, but let one hand dangle, resting on the Growlithe’s back.

"Chasing the rainbow together, ey Growly?" He asked.

And then he remembered something. The girl, the finned girl, she had said something about chasing the rainbow, when he had saved her.

Was he, now, chasing the rainbow?

Suddenly the Growlithe rushed forward and sprang into the colours, a spectrum of light shot out, raining around him like a flurry of multi-hued spears. And then there was light, bright seering light and a feeling.

A gentle whisper of a touch against his lips.

His eyes shot open, staring at whiteness.

A voice came from around him. "I told you it would work Buttons! Isn’t that one for the, you know, books."

And then there was life.