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So basically this 'archive' of sorts is an small collection of various one-shots and drabbles, all of which will be twists in canon or complete AUs. Of course the main pairing will be ferriswheelshipping, but there may be hints of other minor pairings. I won't be updating constantly or on a regular basis; I'll update whenever I'm hit by inspiration or trying to get out of writer's block. But yeah...I hope you guys like this. And even if it's only one word (like "cool" or something like that) or a novel, I'd love to hear what you guys think, so please review!

Title: you still need saving
Inspiration: for want of a happy ending for pokemon b/w
Word count: 1,606

I'm not a hero.

"You're a hero, White."

I'm not.

There is a deep sadness in those words that he says to me, his small, broken figure a sorrowful contrast to the backdrop of the bright sky behind him. Beside him is his fated companion, a beautiful and powerful white dragon of fire and truth; Reshiram is worn and tired, parts of its downy, white feathers singed black from the fight. Both N and Reshiram, they were both born from the pursuit of truth. And now that they have finally found it, I wonder where they will go. What else, in their eyes, is there to live for?

I can see N thinking this same exact question in his mind.

He says to me, green eyes tinted with melancholy, "You saved me from being blinded by the evils of Team Plasma. And you saved me from being blinded by my arrogance. Even though this fallen kingdom was built upon my desire to build a better world for my friends, I had never once thought that it would end this way. I thought I was a king. I thought that I was a hero." A shuddering sigh, full of remorse and wistful longing, escapes him like a ripple in the water. "But I was stupid and naïve."

"I'm not a hero," is all I can say.

The roars and crashes of the battle are still ringing loudly in my ears. I can still see the lingering visions of flames shooting into the air, blasts of water crashing into the walls, and thunder striking the ground, leaving a streak of black in its wake. My arms and legs are dead tired from running around, though the exhilaration is still pumping through my veins even as I stand here, astounded by my own victory.

"Yes you are," he says kindly, a small smile on his face, his head tilted to the side. "At least in my eyes you are."

I shake my head. "I only did what I thought was right. I crushed your dreams. I'm…," I pause, tears blurring my vision as I try and choke out the rest of the sentence, "I'm a horrible person."

"You never crushed my dreams, White." He steps towards me as he says this, and I look up, jarred from my thoughts of self-loathing. "You just changed them—for the better."

Wiping a stray tear away from my cheek, I can't help but smile a little. Of course N would say something as kind as that—and he would always be compassionate to the very end.

I ask, hope fluttering in my chest (with a wishful, silly thinking that he might stay), "Where will you go from here?"

He shrugs and my heart breaks a little. "I don't know really. But I know that I can't stay here—I'm a wanted criminal after all." And he laughs as though the fact that he's probably Unova's most wanted is hilarious—though we both know that it's really not.

I glance behind me; Cheren and Adeku are at the room's entrance, a respectful distance away from us (and I can't help but silently thank Cheren's intuition to give me space and time to say my goodbyes), with Geechisu bound in cuffs and chains on the floor beside them.

I can't but help hate Geechisu; that man had tried to ruin N far past the point of return—he didn't succeed (N's goodness was the very existence of that failure, after all), but it didn't mean that Geechisu hadn't scarred him. He had kept N isolated for so long in that small, childlike room, had forced physically and emotionally damaged Pokémon into N's tiny, childlike hands, that N never had the chance to know what it was like to have an actual childhood.

And that is something that can never, ever be replaced or relived no matter how much a person tries or wishes.

I look at N now—all limbs, pale skin, and too tall of a height for a normal person—and I see two things: a man who has seen far too much pain and suffering and a boy who is naïve and unaware of the workings of the real world.

I want to reach out, to hug him—and if I made three more steps toward him, I would be close enough to touch him—but I refrain myself because I don't know how N will react to that.

I'm too afraid of being rejected.

Instead, I cross my arms carefully and press them tightly against my torso, making sure that my hands are clenched so that they won't impulsively reach for the boy in front of me. I try to smile but fail miserably.

"Are you okay?"

It is a vague inquiry, with no real answer to it, and I don't know what exactly I'm trying to get at with asking this question; I don't even know what kind of answer I'm hoping for from N.

Wincing, I shift my weight onto my right leg and felt my muscles strain from the seemingly harmless action. I wonder if N feels as sore and tired as I do. Probably. Though I'm sure that N has a lot more on his mind than just feeling as though he were about to keel over dead.

"No, not really," he answers honestly. "But it could be worse, I guess. I could have died. I could have lost sight of who I really was. I could have stayed blind to Team Plasma's wrongdoings."

"But you didn't," I remind him.

"No, I didn't," he agreed, glancing at the legendary Pokémon beside him. He gives it a wistful smile. "But that's because I found the truth that I searching for all along." His verdant, glassy eyes look at me as he says this, a strange look passing over his face as though he was experiencing an epiphany. "The truth had always been there all along, White. It's always been there, right in front of me."

My breath catches in my throat, when I finally realize the meaning behind his words—and I can't help but feel as though they were precious little treasures to store inside my heart. And he smiles—smiles as though nothing else mattered in the world, as though his own world had never crumbled on its painstakingly built foundation, as though he was just a normal boy living a normal life. But nothing is ever ordinary with N, and I get the feeling that it will never be perfectly normal.

I can't bear to look away from him. I am too stunned to even utter a sound. Did he mean that? Did he truly mean it?

"You're my hero, White." Finally, he breaks eye contact and turns away with his back to me. "Farewell."

My body moves before I can even comprehend my actions. "Wait, N!" Without any restraint, my hands grab his arm and anchor him to me; N twists around in surprise and stares at me with startled eyes.

There is a moment in every person's life in which one finds herself at a fork in the road—two roads that mark the two choices that she must choose from. That person can't see where either of those roads lead, but she knows that either decision will change her future forever. For me, this is that moment. Even as I cling to N's arm, despite the furious beating of my heart, I can clearly see the two diverging paths in my mind. But I am not afraid. I am not hesitant in my decision.

I turn my head around, still not letting go of N. "Cheren," I call out. The person in question lifts his head towards me with a curious light in his eye. "Cheren,"I repeat, "I'm sorry, but could you take care of things for me from here on out? I still have things that I need to finish."

There is confusion. And then there is a look of enlightenment. I grin, knowing that Cheren has understood.

"White, don't do anything stupid," is his motherly response. But I know he means to say, 'Of course I will, stupid. That's what best friends are for.'

"Tell Bel I said 'bye', okay?" I reply, smiling like an idiot. This time I look at Adeku. "And thank you for everything, Adeku. You've helped me so much on my journey. I hope that I became someone you could be proud of."

"Of course you have. More than you could even imagine, White," was Adeku's reply.

I turn back to N now and let myself look up into his eyes with a sense of fierce determination.

"White," N begins hesitantly, "You shouldn't come with me. You can't just abandon your life here. You're Unova's one and only hero." But despite his words, I can see a growing hope in his eyes. This furthers my resolve. I can't turn back now—I've already started walking down the path towards a future that I cannot name.

A future with N.

"Well, if I'm a hero, then I'm coming with you." A slow grin stretches across my face as I say this. Because I'm not letting go. Not now. Not ever. "It looks like you still need saving, N."