disclaimer: don't own pokemon.


0. the father


"You want to be a trainer, Dawn?"

She nodded thoroughly.

"You remember the rules?"

She kept on nodding.

"Memorize them. Get them committed. Dream them. Live them."

She didn't want to stay here in this dark, dank holding cell. She wanted to be out in the arena with him, seeing the monsters towering above her, feeling the earth shake - she wanted to tell him so many things—

She settled for, "I'm not afraid."

He gazed down at her, then ruffled her hair. His palm was sweaty. He drew it back to his belt in seconds, but his calm, stony expression didn't falter. "I'm not afraid, either. Just excited."

He turned to the door, but looked over his shoulder— "You remember that, okay? Whatever happens - I was excited."

The horn went off outside, vibrating the ancient stone doors.

"Trainers, to your stations!"

"Back to your seat," he said, throwing on his jacket as he approached the door. "Keep an eye on Mom, and make sure she doesn't try jumping into the fight, because god knows, she's going to try." He looked back one more time. "Rule number four, okay?"

"Yeah, Dad!" Dawn cried, her voice cracking.

He smiled.

It was not kind.

\-|-/

He told her the rules last night, when she was scurrying around the hotel room with more energy than Palmer and his boy combined. It was hard enough keeping up with her, and even harder for him to scoop her up - his pulled muscles, old separations and broken bones ached under her tiny weight.

"I'm gonna be a trainer, too!" she said, squirming at first, then relaxing. "I'll be bigger and I'll beat you!"

"Well, he said, patting her shoulder, "you don't even know how to be a trainer."

"You catch pokemon, and you train with them, and you fight with them."

"Yeah, but that's not what it's really about."

"What do you mean? Can you tell me?"

Johanna hovered behind him - he could imagine her, hand planted on the doorway, as if it was the only thing in the world that could hold her up when he wasn't there.

If she was the one speaking, she'd say - Don't worry about it - when you grow up, you won't need to be a trainer. We'll make sure of it.

But he wasn't Johanna.

He held Dawn closer, then put her down, squatting beside her. "Well, we got four rules. Now, no one taught me these things when I started out, so you'll be ahead of me. So long as you pay attention."

She looked at him, intently. He felt Johanna's gaze, too.

He opened his mouth to speak, then widened his eyes and shouted, "Hey, look out!"

Dawn whipped around, right into his trap, and he got her, toppling her onto the carpet and keeping her pinned down as her yelp turned into a giggling fit. "You get that?" he asked after chuckling. "I mean, I was being nice to you, but that's our first rule—" She was attentive again, and sure. "Anyone can be your enemy."

He rolled upright and held out his hand, and just as she grabbed it - her hand so small and delicate in his scarred, monstrous fingers—

"Daaaad!" she cried as he shoved her back down, and she crossed her arms but couldn't maintain the pout.

You think this is some big game, don't you?

"That's the second rule. Anyone can be your enemy. Even those you think you know. Even those you love."

How the hell am I supposed to teach you this otherwise?

"And the third rule," Johanna said, smiling warmly as she lay down beside them, "is to listen to your mom when she tells you to go to bed."

He raised a finger. "That's not the actual rule, but it's a pretty good one."

"Do I have to?"

"Rules are rules."

"And the rule is also to listen to your wife," Johanna said, poking his ribs.

"That, too. Let's get you back into bed, and I'll explain the other rules."

When he had that settled, he went onto the balcony, where Sunyshore's distant lights shone across the water, bright like the stars had fallen among the skyscrapers. Now - and only now, without Dawn here - could he call out his monsters.

He threw his ball, releasing an aura of darkness that melted away into empty air. Dusknoir's manifestation began with its eye, a stoplight red glow hovering in the night, before the rest of its body unfurled like an unwrapped cloth, rippling into a twisting, crawling, pulsing entity that made the air quiver with some immense pressure.

He straightened himself with his mouth set in a grim line, as if he were a Honchkrow summoning its flock. The monster shrunk, cowered, made itself smaller than he was.

It took years to get this one to obey, but now he didn't even need the stunstick or Umbreon's powers. This ghost wouldn't dare touch him. This ghost wouldn't feed without him. It knew he was always watching - and it took only one itchy finger to send it back into silent, absolute darkness.

This master of death - who had once tried to kill him time and time again - would now die for him.

That was rule number three - Make them fear you. Make them need you.

"Mount Coronet," he uttered, zipping up his coat that one extra sliver. Just the way Johanna would want it. "Now."

The monster bowed its head, enveloping him in shadows.

Tonight, he decided, moments before he was swept into the bleak, howling cold of the mountains, Dusknoir would learn Destiny Bond.

Tournaments didn't win themselves, after all.

\-|-/

"Being a champion's daughter will be like being a princess. So I need you to be well-behaved, okay?"

"Yes, Dad."

"And I need you to not be afraid. Because rule number four—"

She already knew that one.

"Never cower."

Dawn committed herself to those words as the battleground exploded in smoke and dust, rolling into the front stands. Dawn whipped her head back and forth, trying to keep up with the action - Salamence burst out of the clouds and bellowed, flying around the arena, dodging beams of ice that shattered agains the wall. When the smoke cleared she saw a glimpse of Gastrodon huffing and wheezing on the giant screen, and she scrambled up in her seat to see for herself—

"Down, you brat!"

She grimaced and plopped down, and her mom pressed a tight hand on her shoulder.

"Let the kid watch, asshole!" another guy barked, but the argument was cut off when he roared out, "Look out! Ooh, shit! Fuck him up!"

Ice and fire seared and blasted the arena while Salamence's blurred silhouette darted around the field, each explosion making the crowd grow more and more wild, to the point the patrolling Bronzong must have been straining themselves to keep order. The only constants in this battle were the trainers - Dad standing to the left, his thick barn coat flapping behind him. There was a close-up. His eyes were wide. He was sweating.

He hadn't sweated against the Ghost elite, seeing through her tricks and cruelty just long enough for Umbreon to rip Banette's head off by the zipper. But the trainer standing opposite of him, this girl, the champion - who looked older than Dawn but not nearly as old as Dad, or any of the adults around her - she wasn't even looking at the fight. She was staring off into space.

Why isn't she paying attention?

Her thoughts screeched to a halt when the piercing peeeew of the ice beams stopped, and she leaned over the woman in front to see better. Gastrodon was coughing, trying to muster another ice beam, but only squirting a trickle of water.

The match was decided.

Her dad snapped his fingers and yelled, "Dragon Rush!"

Spewing flames, flames that looked more like pure light, Salamence was sheathed in a bright aura as he came crashing down, jaws snapping around Gastrodon's head, crunching and squeezing purple ooze and blood—

And a dagger of ice skewered out through Salamence's head.

Dawn flinched back but didn't close her eyes as the camera took in the horror of the moment - Salamence's wide eyes, what as left of Gastrodon's head pouring out of his mouth, him toppling into a weak heap. And the blood, rich and red, splattering the arena floor.

To make a pokemon fear you and need you - to make him willing to charge into his death - that was what the third rule meant.

"Boom! That's a draw! Berlitz's first kill, Sakurai's fifth - but they got one pokemon left! You know what this is, the one, the only—"

Dusknoir, who had retreated under an onslaught of darkness that ripped apart his being, that somehow came from a frowning stone, whirled back into the battleground. But it wasn't the one people were waiting for - Cynthia tossed a pokeball, and the camera zoomed in on it, its scratches, the bumper stickers, I'd rather be in Castelia, Pyrite or Bust, History is written in blood—

It exploded.

Garchomp towered, slaver dripping from its fangs. Dawn sat back in her seat - this thing must have been five times her size - and people were cheering them on, howling, screaming for blood.

Dawn thought of flying around on Salamence with her dad, of Umbreon watching TV with them and listening to classical music, and she wanted blood, too - Garchomp's blood.

The arena rumbled, Garchomp stepping around the opening floor as the battleground shifted, taking the bodies under. Dusknoir scanned the arena as sand poured across the floors, a fat, ridiculous cactus popping up in the corner—

"Cynthia opts for the desert arena for her last stand!" the announcer said. "How will this end?

With speed, Dawn knew.

A thunderclap burst the air as Garchomp took off, and the stadium was filled with that thunder. Dawn felt like she was down there on the battleground as fangs of flame ripped through the air in comet-like streaks, Dusknoir's frail form barely avoiding the swipes, but the tail of his robe caught fire, his antenna was ripped from his head. Through it all, though, his hands glowed with small purple light—

Come on come on come on come on—

Then Dusknoir tossed the light into the ground, covering the arena's surfaces with strange shapes and fractals, and the cameras disconnect. The man behind her bellowed "What the fuck?! Put it back on!" while the announcer boomed, "What the…? The stadium…!"

Trick Room.

Garchomp suddenly wasn't a bullet but a Slowpoke, inching through the air just a hair from Dusknoir. But Dusknoir was shivering out of existence, and as slow as Garchomp was, it was still coming, straining its limbs, reaching its fiery claw towards Dusknoir's eye—

"He doesn't stand a chance," the woman in front of her whispered.

You're wrong, Dawn thought, swallowing. You're wrong. He's gonna use Shadow Ball, and—

Her father lifted his arm, glowering at his opponent, and yelled, "Destiny Bond!"

The announcer's Exploud dropped its jaw to the floor. The crowd sucked in a collective breath and went silent.

Dawn couldn't see Cynthia's face - but she saw that the champion didn't even twitch.

Her father's cry echoed like a gunshot, like a bell, like a door slamming shut—

And was choked off by his own shriek.

Dusknoir's belly ripped open, and dark tendrils whipped back and tore into her dad, forming into black chains that shot through his chest, his heart, his neck, anchored into his bones—

And when Garchomp's claw sunk into Dusknoir's head, slicing clean through, snuffing out the light—

Her father went down, too, but in a bursting and splattered mess.

The world went silent and still for her, even as Dusknoir's death was marked by an ear-splitting whistle and imploding cloth, as people stood up, roared, screamed, cheered, as the cameras turned back on, as the Champion turned on her heels and walked away - but Dawn saw his fist clenching, his arm quivering, his face twisting her way, his fist shaking as he lifted it an inch off the ground—

Dawn lifted hers, maintained eye contact, and refused to be afraid.

He slumped down.

She could have sworn she heard dark laughter echoing in her mind as her mom held her close and screamed.

\-|-/

But there - that traitor's Destiny Bond ripping him apart - her father smiled.

Because he had taught her one more lesson - and that was the most important one of all.

Last night, when Dawn had pulled the covers up to her chin - meaning she had no more mischief planned for the night - he sat at the edge of the bed and told her, "And those are the four rules."

"Which took you about fifteen minutes longer than necessary, but okay," Johanna said, winking before shutting the bathroom door behind her.

He loved Johanna - he did love her - but she didn't understand the brotherhood of trainers. She didn't understand what he was trying to do.

But there were things he had to tell Dawn, and there was a fire in her. He saw it brimming when she watched match footage, when she saw blood and torn limbs without flinching, when she debated with him what the next best move was, when she didn't back down from her arguments or her fantasy matchups no matter how badly she was losing—

"There's a secret rule, though," he told her. "It's the one all champions know. It's the only way you can get glory, the only way you can get your one wish from the king—"

"Just tell me!" she pleaded. She nearly burst back out of her covers, but he kept his hand on her collarbone.

"Once I tell you," he whispered, "it means you have to become champion. No matter what the cost."

"No matter what the cost," she repeated.

"I need you to be the champion. Nothing less. You get that, right?"

Dawn pursed her lips into a smile and nodded so much - it nearly killed him, how much he was killing her with the wait.

He leaned against her ear.

And he told her:

"Anyone can train a monster. But champion needs to be one."

He released his bruising grip from her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek.

And she trembled.


a/n:

platinum is probably my favorite pokemon game, so i hope i do it justice.

just some notes:

+the pokeball covered in bumper stickers was borrowed without shame from nature of nature's pika comic, which is probably one of the best pokemon-related comics.

+this fic will take certain liberties with platinum's plot - the opening, such as how dawn gets her starter, has the most significant changes. after about three chapters, however, the gym challenge and the galactic plot will show up like they usually do...just darker. furthermore, i switched up some nuzlocke rules to make the challenge harder but still plausible to beat (unlike my first attempt with the most ridiculous and impossible rules, rest in pieces lucas). the changes, if significant, will be made clear in the story.

if you stick around, expect an update in about a week or two. since i keep going back to my prewritten chapters and changing things, lmao.

anyway - thanks for reading.