So, I feel really bad for not updating ever, but I had an idea for another crossover, so...I'm sure my muse will come back someday, hehe

"Hamish, give it back."

The pidgey ignored him. Completely ignored him, in fact, while diligently tangling his roll of bandages in the tree branches.

"Hamish, I mean it. I spent three hours rolling all of those!"

Satisfied now that one roll was hopelessly tangled, the pidgey then turned to nip another from his bag. Said bag was also conveniently stuck in the tree, courtesy of a certain brown menace.

"Hamish! Don't make me come up there!"

Finally, the pidgey deigned to acknowledge him in a huff, the stubborn git. John responded by chucking a rock at it. It hit the branch right at the bird's feet, shaking its perch, but it still didn't come down. In fact, it took up its wrapping activities with renewed vigor.

John simply sighed. They both knew that if he really wanted to, the preteen could have knocked the pidgey down over three hours ago when this mess started, and make it hurt. What could he say, he had a good aim. But he didn't want to injure his friend, so that option was out.

Which left two options; either he climb the tree, or find some new bandages, and a new supply kit at that. John examined the tree and shuddered faintly. The lowest branch was still a good five feet above his head. No way could he jump that high. No way would he risk a fall from that height again either.

Therefore…

"Fine." John squared his shoulders and walked away. Ma did say to pick and chose his battles carefully, and this was clearly not one he would win. And it wouldn't take that long to get new supplies, as Dr. Sawyer was very generous toward her little helper. He might have some trouble finding a new bag, but someone was bound to have an old one somewhere. That's how he got his first one, and second after the first broke.

He was kind of ticked that his second bag was now MIA due to obsessive compulsive pidgeys, though. He had liked that one, and Hamish took it without reason! What was going on in that bird brain?

And with his back turned, he never did see how the pidgey paused in its work to watch him leave.

"Good afternoon Dr. Sawyer!"

"John!"

Dr. Sawyer looked up from her paperwork. John fidgeted slightly before her; he almost always wore his supply bag to the clinic, and felt naked without it. Not that it was his fault it was missing.

"You're a bit late, Sarah's already started in the backroom without you," Dr. Sawyer said as John went to scrub his hands in the washroom. He then started toward the supply closet for a spare scrub before his brain caught up with him. 'Backroom', he thought, 'right. It's a paperwork day then'.

Just as he turned for the hall though, the doctor stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "John, is Hamish okay?" she asked gently. "It's just that it's been a while since you last showed up with him. You two are usually joined at the hip."

John flushed. Stupid pidgey, first his bag and now this! "It's, ah," he stuttered, "fine. We're fine. It's all fine. It's nothing." He shouldn't make handle people worrying about him, he didn't need it! Especially not from the kind Dr. Sawyer, he shouldn't trouble her. He could handle this.

Dr. Sawyer raised an eyebrow and glanced pointedly at his side, where his bag used to rest. John refused to back down.

Finally, she moved her he hand. "Sarah's waiting for you," she said. And as he moved down the hall, she called out again. "And remember to come back this Friday so I can check your leg!"

John flushed further and hurried for the door at the end of the hall. This was so embarrassing! Really, he was fine!

He did try to sneak into the backroom before she noticed, but of course…

"John! You're late!" Sarah scolded quietly, glaring at him over her files. File sorting was a very important part of clinical practice, Dr. Sawyer had said. It didn't stop Sarah from heavily disliking it ("No hating, hating is bad" she had told him, back when they were seven and naïve). It also didn't stop the doctor from using them for such manual tasks, though to be fair, they did sign up for it.

John 'eeped' an apology. Well, technically it was Hamish's fault he was late, but technically John could have ignored him earlier.

He quietly scooped up a sizable amount of files and settled into his own corner. Each file was labeled with Dr. Sawyer's familiar messy scrawl that he and Sarah needed to copy into legible words, and he immersed himself in the task. It wasn't hard, and he read glimpses of Mrs. Turner's sprained wrists and Mr. Harken's arthritis and little Megan's ear infection (apparently from sticking a carrot slice in her ear). Funny little stories of normal people's lives in which normal people injure themselves.

There was patient confidentiality, so he and Sarah couldn't talk about anything they learned, but the community was so small that gossip spread anyway.

A paper ball to his forehead brought him out of his musing. 'So where's Hamish?'

John groaned. He patted around him for a blank piece of paper, then gave up and wrote on the message. 'Not you too!'

'It's been a week! Mom's getting worried!'

'I didn't tell her to worry! And everything's fine!' He underlined 'fine' extra hard before tossing his reply. Sarah ignored his hint.

'I thought you'd be avoiding those cliffs you loved so much instead of avoiding that bird brain.'

'Hamish is NOT a bird brain! And stop calling him that!' And he had been avoiding cliffs, but he wasn't going to boost her ego by saying so.

'See? You guys are definitely still buddies, so hurry up and get back together! I'm sick of seeing you mope in here every other day!'

John glared directly at her. "I'm not moping!"

Sarah matched his glare with her own. "Yes you are! You never go off exploring anymore and you don't play with Hamish or me –"

"Well maybe I'm too old to play baby games – "

"And you spend all your time wrapping and re-wrapping those bandages –"

"I do that all the time!"

"And the only way to get you to speak up is to shout at you!" Sarah burst, and something suspiciously wet gleamed in her eyes before her sleeve covered it. She stood up.

"I'm sorry, John, but I want everything to go back to the way it used to be." And with that, she ran out of the room.

It was quiet. John felt his throat rasp a little, and he wished there was a water fountain in the room but he didn't want to go out and see Sarah there. After an hour, though, it was clear that she wasn't coming back in, and he wasn't getting much work done, so he began to clean up.

A glance to the left showed Sarah's side to be much messier than normal, since she had left so quickly. After an internal debate, he tidied her side as well. He didn't mean to yell even if she started it. He didn't want to yell at anyone.

Dr. Sawyer was watching him as he left, and only nodded when he said he was done for the day. Favorite neighbor or not, he had just upset her daughter.

Yeah, so there weren't actually that many pokemon in this chapter. Next one will be better :D