A/N: Characters with relatively low popularity in any fandom are hardly written about, and the stories about them that are actually good and well-written are even more scarce. So here I am writing about Byron. I depict him as having the wife who is only briefly mentioned in the anime. They are married but their marriage is becoming rocky here of course. She is also my OC in another multi-chaptered fic I'm writing but you don't need to read that one at all to understand this one. Also, Byron and Palmer are BFFs because Arceus. Roark is involved here as well. If I'm feeling adventurous I'll add in a few other canon characters but don't count on it. Otherwise, read, enjoy, and review! Thanks.

Regret

The mood of a loving, passionate wife during a period of time when she has had no contact with her husband, whatever may have been the source of their separation, may be described as uncommonly melancholy and perhaps reasonably irate. Not that she needed her man for support of spirits or to be a fully happy person - she was not like that - however, she did long for his pleasing company, his presence, his conversation, his love, him.

He had been gone for six and a half months, and left for a reason that originally made her incredibly livid. Off to the city of Canalave, where he'd have a new job as a gym leader and would be able to further pursue his ever-lasting passion for fossils, given the fact that a little island a few miles north to the city had tons of them waiting to be mined out and discovered. How self-serving it was of him to run off so suddenly! He didn't take the time to consult his wife nor their son about his leaving, surely demonstrating that he hardly cared about those two.

He hadn't taken the damn time to call since his leave, either. Or visit.

Even so, Aine knew in her heart that he still loved them. He had made a very hasty, unwise decision, yes, but there was no doubt that the love was still in existence.

As this fact was established in both her mind and heart (though the balance was unequal), thoughts of infidelity also occasionally crossed by. That was very silly though; Byron was a man of good character and he was incapable of such. Till his leaving them, their marriage had been a most rigorous, healthy one. They had dug out fossils together, frequently talked with their only son, Roark, whom they were still in the process of raising, and shared several nights of intense, ardent, hot lovemaking.

Tying all that in with the fact that his departure was so abrupt, Aine came to the conclusion that it had nothing to do with their marriage. Infidelity was impossible. He loved her. He loved Roark. He loved them.

But then this all made zero sense. His actions, that is. If he still loved them, why would've he left without discussing a single thing with them?

And to serve as a grim addition was that their wedding anniversary was approaching. In another six days. Six hopeless days. Were her husband here she would have done something romantic for or with him, like take him out for a walk on the silent outskirts of Oreburgh and talk whimsically about days afore when they lashed and pokémon battled for his badge, which she eventually earned. Or when he taught her how to mine, helping her hone her skills in the field. Or when he gave her a revived Omanyte and she'd kissed him. Or any nostalgic memory that would make their hearts flutter in unison.

That was not going to happen this year.

Hanging her head low, shoulder-length red hair rumpled and disheveled, hands folded neatly in front of her on the dining table, Aine returned to square one of this deep, distressing analytical process. Doubting her husband.

Whereas she was attempting to sort the situation out in her mind calmly, trying to come to reason, her son was not so well off. He was pissed, furious. How dare his father think about leaving them, running off so rashly without warning? Roark was convinced that his father had never cared about him nor his mother, and if he ever did, then he stopped doing so six and a half months ago when he left for Canalave. And he couldn't be too surprised at that, could he? Dad had always been rough around the edges with him; maybe that had something to do with it. But Roark didn't give it too much thought; he was more focused on his mother. His lovely, amazing mother. How could Dad betray her like this? Didn't he love her? Roark knew those two loved each other more than anything, more than him. And Mom sure as hell didn't deserve this bullshit. Roark and his mother had also already discussed this situation a few times prior, but reaching a steady conclusion on it was not easy, so it was an on-and-off topic between them.

At the moment, he was getting ready to head to work in the gym. The same gym that Byron carelessly left in the hands of Roark after he left.

Roark shook his head. He needed to focus on more important things at the moment. Stepping out his room, steady and prepared, he headed toward the living room to kiss his mom goodbye.

But his dear mother appeared to be brooding.

"Mom?" Roark grimaced. "Mom. You're...are you fine?" Mom wasn't responding, however. "Can I do anything for you?" He approached her, placed a palm on her shoulder.

At her son's familiar, well-intended touch Aine was obliged to respond; raising her sight to him, she saw him as young and healthy-looking as ever, with his rectangular, black-rimmed glasses, signature red hard hat, and countenance fair and flushed. Evidently, Roark was doing well and more than ready to go to work; she didn't need to plague him with her distress any more than what was necessary. She gave him a brief answer assuring that she was okay, albeit that was far from the truth.

"No, mom," Roark pursed his lips, recalling something. "You're not. I can tell you've been thinking about Dad a lot, and you're not alone in that. I know your anniversary is coming up. And it's his own fault that he's not here."

"Yes," Aine agreed, with a sigh, "but we don't know the reasoning behind his decision, although that's what I'm presently trying to figure out. Go to work, Roark. I can't trouble you any further."

But Roark simply didn't care whether or not his mother troubled him. She was a phenomenal woman undeserving of agony, and he loved her. He would make things better for her.

"Don't worry, mom. Very soon, you'll see, I myself will go all the way to Canalave and fetch Dad. I'll teach him a lesson, too, if I feel the need - he can't be doing this to us, to you."

Aine's brows raised at her son's indignation. It was well-intentioned, of course, but were he to act out on it, the outcome would not be half so favorable as the force which had driven it. "I suggest you don't do anything, Roark. It's not necessary. At all."

"Mom, he hasn't visited, or even contacted us since he's left!" Gently wreathing his white-gloved hand around hers, his voice softened, as if about to supplicate. "That's a major problem, you of all people should know that...For once, mom, let me do something about it for you."

A strand of red hair fell over and swooshed in front of her eyes, swinging, before ceasing. Blowing it out of her sight and tucking it back in place, Aine felt compromised, saying: "I don't want to encourage you. I don't want to you feel obliged to do anything. Yet, you feel as if it's the right thing to do, don't you?" She took a pause, and her violet eyes met her son's expressive mahogany ones. "Do what you need to. But please, don't start a problem with your father."

A frown suggesting disagreement crept on Roark's face at those last few words. "I don't need to start a problem, mom. He already did."

Aine shook her head, briefly wondering if she was this stubborn when she was in her son's bloom of youth. "Then don't worsen the problem, Roark. Byron's a great man, you know that; if anything, he didn't contemplate the impact of his actions. He can be like that; I've known that since the day I met him, but he's hardly so hotheaded anymore. When he realizes he's made a mistake, he grows from it, and swears to himself he won't do it, or something similar, again. He loves us, Roark."

The young redheaded miner pursed his lips, holding in a scoff at the mere suggestion of his father loving him and his mother. Set on leaving for work, he kissed his mother on the cheek, hugging her, and left after a few more words. Still on his mind as he left, however, was the topic of the conversation, and what he would do in order to solve the problem putting his family on edge.

Byron was having the time of his life.

It was great to be on a city so near Iron Island - a place whose number of fossils was marvelously and numerously unlimited - and lavished upon it would be his brand new, fresh ideas for it! Already on his mind was the thought of reconstructing its old mine. The only hindrance to the starting of the project would be the money needed, but that did not lower his spirits; he could polish up the cabin he had built there years ago and just do some independent or small group mining. No biggie. Absolutely nothing could lessen his passion...Oh, and then there was the training! Iron Island was the quintessential place for the training of pokémon! Rough terrain, tough pokémon...Bastiodon, Steelix, Skarmory, and Bronzong loved it here. The challengers wanting to earn a badge at his fairly new gym had no idea what they were about to come up against. He was becoming increasingly better and better considering his newly-improved training at the Island - and he'd never felt so great before.

Among his most remote, mellow desires was to share this energy with his wife and son.

Oreburgh City.

Regret was not one of the chief feelings Byron felt over his decision to leave so rashly. Immense excitement was what pushed him when the League offered him the chance to move to Canalave, and he could not be blamed for that. He could hardly think of consulting anyone about it, either; his rationally-minded wife - his dear Aine - his mind gave no thoughts of at the time.

His son - Roark, also dear to him - he did not think of either when making the choice to leave. Now that Byron did think of it, however, that was probably for the best - Roark would have raged and immediately tried to prevent him from making the trip; and that Byron did not have to bear with that he was completely grateful for.

And yet, none of this made him miss his family any less.

Briefly considering a short visit to Oreburgh, or perhaps offering them to visit him here, which actually sounded loads better to him, Byron finally began to deliberate on their own feelings on this matter. Aine and Roark were undoubtedly saddened, bitter, attempting to reach answers, or angered; the last quality of which Byron applied mostly to his boy; though if his wife held any animosity toward him - her somewhat reckless husband - that was completely understandable.

He called Palmer, his silly yet reliable best friend and Sinnoh Battle Frontier Tower Tycoon, who'd undoubtedly offer him some sound advice given the fact that he was also a father and a husband whose career sometimes got in the way of proximity with his family.

"Oi! Byron!" was what the Canalave Gym Leader soon heard screeching from the phone, making him wince. "What are ya' up to? You haven't called me since you told me that you finally settled into Canalave!"

"I could say the same for you, Palmer." huffed Byron. "You don't take the time to call me, either. Hell of a friend you are."

Byron could hear the blond man's mouth forming into a grin on the other side of the call. "You and I both are busy men, Byron. You've been a Gym Leader for nearly two decades now, and I've been a Frontier Brain for one already...Tell me. You must be calling me for a reason. What's up?"

The veteran miner sighed. "You're not busy right now, are you?"

"Not at all!" Palmer confirmed. "I'm off today and tomorrow, lucky for you. I'm at my wife's, visiting her and Barry." He paused. "What, would ya' like to meet up, Byron?"

"Please."

Palmer grimaced at the word of petition, becoming concerned for his best friend's wellbeing. Nonetheless, he was eager to meet up with Byron again, and asked: "Would you like to come to Twinleaf or would you prefer me to go over to Canalave?"

"Well - "

"Canalave. Got it! See you there, man!" The blond hung up, and Byron imagined him running off to kiss his wife and embrace his son goodbye very hastily and almost stumbling as he raced out the house, throwing out a poké ball to ride on a flying pokémon to get to where Byron currently was.

Byron chuckled at the mental image, as he stretched on his couch and cracked his knuckles. He'd wait outside to meet Palmer.

An hour passed by before Palmer arrived. He came descending onto Canalave on a bird pokémon, waving to Byron with an infectiously foolish grin on his face as he caught sight of him while he was still in the air.

That was Palmer for you.

Byron shook his head and tried to withhold a chuckle, though it was impossible.

The Canalave City Gym Leader soon found himself leading the Battle Frontier Brain into his house - a humble, yet well embellished dwelling - something which the blond man immediately noticed.

"I didn't know you were such a good home decorator. You're better than my wife, Byron!" He slapped him on the back.

"It was a good way to pass some time," replied the miner halfheartedly, as he took a seat on a cushioned stool near his kitchen stand, grabbing a bottle of red wine. He poured himself and his friend a glass.

Palmer took a seat himself next to Byron after wandering around and studying the place. He seemed to have noticed something peculiar about it, but kept silent.

Instead, Palmer asked Byron how he was doing, which lead to further inquiries about his jobs as a Gym Leader and a fossil digger.

Byron gave relatively brief and quick answers to those questions and then started asking Palmer about how things were going with him, before the blond had any chance to inquire about Aine and Roark.

Quite expectedly, the blond talked on and on about how his position as the leader of the Battle Frontier was only getting better, how those up-and-coming challengers had no idea who he was or 'what was coming at them'. He also rambled a bit upon how, in spite of his career, which sometimes unleashed a few obstacles in between him and his family, he was still able to maintain an active and healthy relationship with them.

That, of course, did nothing but make Byron feel worse. He set his glass of wine down and plopped his head down rather miserably on the kitchen counter.

Palmer's heart raced. He placed a gently gloved hand on the back of his friend, and carefully asked: "Byron, what's...what's bothering you, buddy?"

Byron had to muster in all his willpower and strength not to throw his bottle of wine in Palmer's direction. Of course, he was angry, mostly at himself, but in no way did that mean that his anger needed to be acted out on somebody else, somebody faultless.

"...Byron...?"

"That's why I called you here," the mahogany haired man croaked at last, as if his next words would be watery and unmanageable. "To talk about my own family."

Palmer was hesitant, while also looking as if he knew what Byron was getting at. "Your family? Aren't...I'm sure you're on good terms with them, aren't you?" He stopped. "You told me once you got here that Aine and Roark supported your decision to move."

"I lied." was the fact that Byron confirmed.

"Hm." The usually eager blond man was pensive, observing his surroundings again. "I can see. You've got zero frames of them. Did you...did you even bring any small memento of them with you? At all?"

The Gym Leader's forlorn dark eyes expressed an answer in the negative. "...Palmer, you probably wouldn't understand. I could not turn down the offer to transfer to Canalave. I couldn't! It was too perfect. I get to keep my career as a gym leader, which I absolutely love, and the chance to dig out countless fossils without end here! How I could even think of discussing it with Aine and Roark? Without a doubt they'd have argued with me and tried to keep me Oreburgh. So I sent a letter to the League saying that I accepted, and not too long after I went running for Canalave without so much of a word about it to either my wife or my son. I didn't kiss Aine goodbye and I just threw the news at Roark that he was Oreburgh's new Gym Leader and that I'd be leaving...What did I do, Palmer?" He finally hoisted himself up, in order to gulp down quite a load of his beverage. "I can't in good conscience enjoy myself here with this truckload of guilt wearing me down..."

The blond trainer could not recall the last time when Byron had opened up about any matter so vulnerably yet so strongly. It was rare but nonetheless he comforted him.

"You're doing the right thing, Byron," were the soothing words flowing from Palmer's mouth. "You admit what you did was wrong, even if it's just to me and not your family and that's a start." He stopped, noting that for a split second, Byron's lips went upward. "But even though you're my best pal, you know I'm gonna have to lay it down on ya'."

Byron seemed receptive.

Palmer took this as a sign allowing him to continue, and so he did.

"You have to fix things with your family, as in, you have to physically go to them and fix your torn relationship."

Byron's eyes widened and he turned to face his friend. His eyes were watery. "'Torn relationship'? It's not that bad, either, P-"

"Says the guy who hasn't talked with his family in over six months." The blond finally gulped down a bit of his drink, before he grabbed the wine bottle and inspected it, eyebrows furrowing. "Hey, isn't this Aine's favorite? So you decide to take your wife's wine but actually not talk to her?"

The miner threw his head back and groaned, wanting to merely laugh this entire matter off. Maybe a little more wine would do him in to achieve the goal. Maybe he needed to bring out some hard liquor to do the job. "I already know that I made a mistake, Palmer. I don't need you of all people to remind me. Just...tell me what I need to do again."

"Go to Oreburgh." answered the orange-eyed blond guy. "Talk with Roark and Aine. Don't fight with them. Concede everything to them, because you know they're gonna be in the right. And don't be an asshole, not even remotely." Without sugarcoating, the advice was spot on, but it was still offered as a present of sorts to the man who desperately needed it more than anything else. "And remember I'll be here to listen to you always. However, I've also gotta side with your family when they're quite obviously the ones who are suffering from your choice.

"And don't overdo that wine or go to the bar just to end up in a hangover the next day. We enjoy our drinks but we're not alcoholics, Byron."

A smile crept on Byron's face at that, making him look at Palmer again, who could not help a ridiculous facial expression at his own silliness.

Soon enough, their topic of conversation changed and they caught up on a variety of things about each other. For the most part, they had a good time spending the day together until Palmer had to leave. He did not go, however, until reminding Byron of his duty.

"Remember what I told you, man," he raised a dubious eyebrow. "Don't screw anything up."

"I know, and I won't." assured Byron.

"You will call me if you need help."

"I will."

"You will not get drunk and fall victim to a hangover."

"I will not."

"You will love me as your best buddy forever."

Byron crossed his arms and looked indignant. "You're an ass."

The blond cracked a smile. "A lovable ass."

Both men exploded in laughter, with the gym leader shaking his head at the image of what precisely a lovable ass looked like.

It looked like Palmer. Spiked blond hair, fervent orange eyes, the leanness and confidence of a strong pokémon trainer, a tendency for bursting off into the wind and leaving only a trace of that very energetic, highly enthused presence.

But most importantly, the reliability of an unwaveringly loyal friend.

He was the push that Byron needed.

Without him, who knows how Byron may have dealt with his current situation?

Who knows how he was going to react when an unpredictable, angered being bursted and reappeared into his life at Canalave without prior warning?

Who knows. Who knows.

"Mom, I'm going off to Canalave." was the resolute statement coming out of Roark's mouth as he came back from work, preparing for a departure.

Aine was no longer at a point where she could dissuade her son from leaving. Not because she was unable to, or didn't have power enough to do so, but because she agreed with him and his intentions in making this trip. Under more regular and refined circumstances, she would have made this journey herself, as to confront her husband herself and resolve matters accordingly, but she ruled it better that she finally allow someone else to do this for her. In the process, her son would learn how to mend and alleviate familial matters, of the fatigues that so tiringly spring up from such events...

She therefore gave him her whole-hearted and supportive consent, that which surprises even an unwavering child when his mother would usually say otherwise.

"Really, mom?" The mahogany-haired boy questioned.

She answered in the affirmative.

The young man pushed his falling glasses back into place. He tried to process in the fact that his mother effectively gave him the consent to go fight his father. He was even beginning to doubt his own desire to do so, which up to that point had been fervently unbridled.

Aine noted his change of countenance. No longer was his expression giving off that passionate rage, that wish to fix things in whatever necessary manner; he was now composed and even pensive. She raised an inquiring eyebrow, such that it itself seemed to be saying, "Don't tell me you're giving it second thoughts now..." - words which soon after came out of her mouth.

A bit of a reserved chuckle emitted from him at that, as he raised his sight to her. "I was expecting to have to argue with you more to get you to agree. Darn it, Mom, you must really not want to face Dad if you want me to go. You're the type of person who'd usually do this for herself."

She crossed her arms and huffed. "How can I ignore you when you're so adamant about this? Besides, I know this will be good for you."

"Good for me?"

"You'll see what I mean when the time comes," she affirmed, taking a drink from a mug of coffee. "Let Byron know what he's done wrong, though, above everything else. Make sure he gets it by the end of the confrontation."

"Sure thing, mom." He was ready to leave, swinging a bag full of belongings over his shoulder.

"Did you leave the Gym with a substitute, Roark?" She asked just before he made his goodbyes.

"'Course, mom. And you'll be supervising the mine while I'm gone, too, as you already know." He nodded to her.

"Good." She stood up, embracing her bespectacled son with as much love and strength as possible. "You have your pokémon with you, don't you, sweetie?"

"I do, mom." He hugged her back, just as lovingly.

"They're all in tip top shape, are they not?"

"Mom, I'm a Gym Leader. Why wouldn't be they be?"

Aine laughed. "You've only had that job for a couple of months now - don't get ahead of yourself." She let him go, but her hands firmly clutched his shoulders, like she was about to warn him. "Remember, Roark, I'm only telling you to confront your father. I am not giving you permission to go over there and beat him up while he's at a gym battle."

Roark could not suppress a melodious laugh. "Unless it becomes necessary..."

She grimaced. "It will not become necessary. Byron is your dad and he loves you and will never fight you."

Roark hesitated, and not so long after, departed.

He will fight me, mom. And I'll have to fight him back.

A/N: There's that! If you're reading this and like it, do expect an update. At most, this story will have two or three more chapters. Also, tell me how I did. I personally like how I extracted ideas from the anime episodes in which both Byron and Roark appear, and make it my own with the maturing of the tone and themes, as well as the inclusion of more characters. Till next time!