『 A Yellow Gem and Lots of Fluff. 』
Citrine is a girl that can't feel pain, and has survived thus far with the help of the Pokemon around her and her surrogate guardian Wallene and Riley in Rustboro. Being the younger sister of a world-famous Berry...
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Trauma seeps into the heart.
"It's definitive, I've received her data from the hospital in Verdanturf," the nurse knocked the board against the wall, huffing at her Gym Leader in a sort of reprimand, "she... cannot feel pain at all."
Wattson was confused for a long moment, then everything sank in.
"That explains all the injuries," he breathed in disbelief, hands reaching over to mask his expressions, "it explains so much."
Logically no one would allow themselves to be injured so badly that they had so many injuries. It was like she climbed out of the sea, crossed a waterfall of rocks, fought in the mud with angry Poochyena before raiding a Zubat cave. And then, walked across a desert of cacturne before reluctantly deciding she needed a hospital.
The nurse, marring dark eye circles, scowled (not at Wattson. But at herself, her fellow nurses, the head doctor, everyone,) and sharply turned away in shame.
"You won't like to hear this, Mister Wattson," the nurse's expressions were morose as she folded her arms, shameless beginning to repeat the lines she'd spent the night tearfully eyeing, "not counting the innumerable scratches, bruises and lesions from her fight with the Zubat; she has a broken elbow, a dislocated left knee, a torn ligament in her right thigh, clustered veins in her left arm, three broken fingers, and seven broken toes...
Her liver was bloated and her lungs had been punctured. Several ribs were shattered and even with operation we are unsure if we've removed all the shards present. All these are old wounds, so healing is much more difficult for us. We have a healer Pokemon with us, but Chansey is still so worried for her she wants to leave the Center and bunk down with the girl."
At some point, Wattson had stopped breathing. A haunted look came over him and settled, yet the nurse felt the exact same way.
"The medication is barely working on her," the nurse muttered, "she required no anesthetic. But she was supposed to be out for another few days, yet there she was, barely three hours later, awake and so eager to continue her studies. Can you believe this, Mister Wattson? Cause I sure as hell can't."
Wattson felt himself trembling at the bare thought of this horror, and deep inside he realized just why Roxanne, of all the people in the world, asked a favour of him. That girl never got attached to people, and sure as hell would eat a Geodude before she asked a favour from the man she proudly declared to have no similarities with.
"That girl's a fighter, Mister Wattson," the nurse told him firmly, "please, please take care of her."
