"I never wanted this." Steven's voice is broken, desperate. His eyes are dark and hollow, holding none of their usual luster. It hurts Wallace to see his friend like this, to know that there is nothing he can do to help. The cloak around Steven's shoulders is stained with blood and the room they're in smells of defeat and despair. The pokeballs lying on the desk are covered in dirt and soot. Wallace's stomach tightens when he notices two are missing. There's another reason. I know it! There has to be another reason.
"It's too much for me. I'm not strong enough to take them all. I'd rather solve things peacefully but these men . . . all they know is violence. The Rockets are infiltrating deeper into Hoenn and those two rival gangs; Team Aqua and Team Magma have started stirring up things in Rustboro." He won't look at Wallace. Instead he takes a pokeball off his desk and begins to roll it in his hands. "Every moment that I have is spent in so much fear."
Wallace reaches out for his friend, hoping to offer some solace when none can be offered. "Your Rocket problem should be over soon, at least. Some kid in Johto took them down a few weeks ago. Apparently the admins have disbanded the whole team."
Steven smiles, but it is thin and hopeless. "I thought you of all people would know by now. The police force was supposed to send Pidgey carrying the notice to all of the gym leaders. I guess yours . . . yours must have been intercepted. Yet another thing I must look into."
"What? What don't I know?" Wallace's voice is fraught with panic. The gym leaders would've told me if I missed something really bad . . . right?
"The kid was a plant. Ever wonder why the kid never went public to accept recognition for single-handedly taking down an entire criminal syndicate? She just disappeared off the face of the earth, apparently fled to Unova or something. It was all a ruse to distract us from the fact that Team Rocket is stronger now than it has ever been."
"What? Have we sent someone to find her? This is awful!" Wallace twists his beret in his hands. "We can't just let them get away with that!"
Steven coughs and blood splatters onto his crumpled black suit. "Lance followed her, but she's a master of disguise. Shame on us for ever believing her. One kid can't take down an entire criminal organization, no matter how good. One champion apparently can't either. Alder and Cynthia are struggling with their own problems as well."
Wallace isn't sure he wants to know what those problems are. He could only hope it had nothing to do with the legendaries. After that fiasco with Mewtwo . . . He shudders slightly. Thank Arceus Red was able to kill it otherwise the abomination would've laid waste to half of Kanto. Speaking of that . . .
"What about Red? Shouldn't he be helping the Champions?" he asks. "Technically he did become one after he defeated Blue."
The other man flinches and a low sob racks his throat. "Red . . . Red is dead. No one knows what happened. Red stopped answering his Pokegear a few weeks ago and when Professor Oak went up there to find him well . . ." Steven hides his face in his hands. "There wasn't much left to find. Oak thinks the girl had something to do with it. That poor old man. First Blue's suicide and then Red . . . Those two boys and Daisy were the only family he had left. Daisy apparently hasn't contacted him since she and Bill went off together to search for Kyurem's alternate forme."
Tears pricked at the corners of Wallace's eyes. "No one . . . no one told me." Arceus why? Everyone already blamed Blue's . . . accident on Oak already. He doesn't deserve this. Red was only fifteen . . .
Steven lunges forward suddenly, grabbing Wallace's hands. Tears are streaming down his gaunt face. "No one must know! Please, no one must know of this. People are upset enough already. No one needs to know that yet another Elite is dead!"
Another. Another Elite . . . Wallace's mind struggled to recall the memory. Will. Poor Will. Who could've known the Unown were that dangerous?
Wallace doesn't let go of Steven's hands, thumbs tracing patterns on the broken champion's palms. The death count is rising at an alarming rate. Will, Blue and now Red were all either murdered or had taken their own life. Possibly Daisy and Bill too if the rumors he'd heard about this Kyurem monster were right. And if Oak lost Daisy too, one could only wonder what he might do.
And then Silver. But Wallace doesn't feel like thinking about Silver right now.
"It's not just humans who have died either," Steven draws his hands away and opens a drawer on his desk. He takes out a framed photograph. The glass is cracked. The photo is of a grinning Steven posing with a few of his most precious Pokemon. He traces his hand over the fragmented glass, whispering the names of his team. "Cradily, Claydol, Metagross, Armaldo . . ." his voice cracked slightly, "Delcatty and Sceptile. Delcatty and Sceptile are dead, Wallace. Dead. Delcatty died during the Lavender Town Riots and Sceptile was incinerated by a Team Magma admin's Camerupt. It was because they're defense wasn't as high as the rest of my team. They're . . . replacements will be Steel-types, like my Metagross. They'll have a better chance of . . . of surviving that way.
"I will become a Steel-type master so I will never have to watch my Pokemon die in front of me again."
Wallace's stomach twists painfully, thinking of how dear and precious his own Pokemon were to him. He puts his hand on Steven's shoulder as he quietly sobs into his hands. "Steven . . . I . . ." his eyes wander to the cloak resting on his friend's shoulders. It is ripped and torn in places, what was once pure white now blemished by ash, grime and blood. Wallace had once thought it beautiful but now . . . he looks into Steven's tear-streaked face and knows the truth.
Being the champion is not an honor. It is a curse. One that rips you away from your friends, your family and forces you to take responsibility for the burdens of the people under your care. It forces you to become a hero when all you want to do is rest.
It is not a burden that should be ever borne alone.
Wallace stands, placing his hands on Steven's shoulders, gently lifting the awful piece of fabric and placing it around himself. It looks good on him, but then again, most things do.
Steven looks up. "What . . . what are you . . . Wallace! You can't be serious!"
The gym-leader gives him a pearly grin. "You should let me take a turn for a little while. After all, it's not fair that you get to have all the fun."
"The League will never allow it."
"Oh, why not? I'm just as good as you."
Steven is speechless for a few moments before giving a short, barking laugh. "Well, as long as it's only for a little while."
"Oh, I don't know." Wallace does a little twirl. "It flatters me, don't you think?"
The former champion's face darkens for a few moments. "Just . . . please, Wallace, be careful. I don't want to see what happened to me happen to you."
Wallace extends a hand and Steven clasps in tightly. "Don't worry about me, Steven. I'll be fine. After all you already took care of the hard stuff for me. Now all I gotta do is take care of those idiotic buffoons calling themselves criminal organizations."
Steven smiles, the first real one Wallace has seen all evening. "Thank you Wallace . . . for setting me free."
