Title: Wallflower Ablaze
Summary: Team Plasma transforms an unwilling grunt who only wanted to disappear in the forest of identical grunts into a monster sent by an even bigger monster to either warp White and her ideals until she supports Team Plasma and is unrecognizable or take her life. The unlikely love story of a Champion in the making and her assassin. - WhitexTeamPlasmaGrunt (Rated for violence.)
"Hello," He wheezes in a voice that could be mistaken for friendly.
She takes one look at the P slashed across his shirt like a knife wound and instinctively sends out her Snivy, accompanying the action with a flick of her brown ponytail.
He thinks he loses, but he is not one hundred percent sure because he just stares at the way her pockets jut out of her shorts like teeth because her shorts are too short.
She tugs a hand to her hip and stares at his face.
"Hello," He wheezes in a voice that could be mistaken for interested.
"What's your name?" She counters, but he turns and leaves without giving it to her because it is worthless, something he gave up to become part of the masses of Team Plasma grunts.
He is assigned to a team with a simple mission; obtain the dragon skull from the dragon fossil in Nacrene City. He stands guard outside and identifies shapes in the clouds as his teammates steal the skull.
…Suddenly, everyone is shouting and running into Pinwheel Forest, which makes him frown because he does not like disruptions or breaks in simplicity, but he follows anyway because he was born to follow.
Once in the forest, the Grunts prepare themselves for battle, so he does the same. Their pursuant rounds the corner and tugs at her too-short-shorts and he is somewhat surprised to see the girl from earlier again but not really.
She and her Pokemon take out the first two Grunts with ease, but when he lines up to battle her, her expansive blue eyes widen and she says, "Oh, you again?"
He feels his face go red because he wears the Team Plasma armor to be invisible and blend in with the crowd, but she somehow remembers him anyway. She thrashes him and his Pokemon all the same, but when the battle is over, she examines him so closely he trembles slightly.
"So," she begins, "will you tell me your name now?"
She and all of the other Grunts are looking at him and he wants nothing more than to lie down and become part of the grass.
An older man dressed in embellished Team Plasma robes strolls purposefully into the clearing, diverting everyone's attention – it is Gorm, one of Team Plasma's Seven Sages.
He breathes a sign of relief as Gorm speaks with the girl and he is allowed to go back to being movable background before they disperse, leaving the girl alone.
Ghetsis is a cruel man, and it shows; every inch of him seems designed to cause pain, from the sickly florescent green hair that shoots skyward like his ideas to the stiff hands veined with age and the blood of countless crimes.
The Sage sits at a table drinking tea out of a dainty porcelain cup, an interesting juxtaposition he notices the instant he is thrown unceremoniously into the room.
Ghetsis eyes him over the rim of the porcelain cup, so he immediately bows.
"Close your eyes and hold your hands out in front of you." Ghetsis's command puzzles him, but he knows better than to disobey a sage and obliges. He hears the soft click of a Pokeball releasing and the unmistakable roar of a vicious Pokemon before he feels something clamp down on both of his hands. Involuntarily, his eyes jerk open.
Ghetsis's feared and revered Hydregion stares directly back at him inches away from his face, the two smaller heads clamped onto his wrists.
"What do you know about White from Nuvema Town?" The porcelain cup suddenly slams down onto the table, and in that instant, he fears the man behind the table more than staring into the purple pits of the monster that holds his wrists between two sets of sharp teeth.
"I don't know her, sir."
Once again, the cup travels from the table to the lips of a mad man with the slight smile of a Hydreigon drunk on its own power.
As if on cue, the Hydreigon's two smaller heads bite down on his wrists.
He cries out as pain shoots through his arms, shaking as he watches blood – his blood – dye the Hydreigon's teeth pink. His damaged wrists still locked inside, the blood pools in the beast's mouths before it overflows and drips down to the floor.
All of the colors in the plain room are striking – the brown of the table, the purple, blue, and black of the monster in front of him, the purple robes embellished with tiny gold flowers of the other monster in the room, the ruby red of his blood on the floor. Only he himself, in his dull white and gray Team Plasma uniform, is not striking.
"Gorm reported that she spoke to you in Pinwheel Forest during the failed mission to obtain the dragon skull." The porcelain cup is placed back on the table.
The Hydreigon hissing in his face, waiting for the command to strike again, blocks his view of Ghetsis, but he can sense the effect his next few words will have on his future. He closes his eyes in a feeble attempt to block out the sight of his shaky, pale hands staining dragon's teeth red.
"Sir, I ran into her before and we battled then. Otherwise I really don't know her."
"I see. Your friend" – the emphasis on friend worries him – "has been causing quite the problem. She has already interfered with our plans, but she keeps running into N…If this is allowed to continue, she could distract him and jeopardize our mission."
The Hydreigon releases him suddenly, and he immediately presses his damaged wrists into his uniform with a gasp, staining the white red.
"She is powerful. N claims she could be convinced to come to our side, but she has resisted his attempts thus far. We need to either convert her to our side or eliminate her."
Ghetsis stands.
"Although she has battled other grunts, she never spoke to them or gave any inclination that she considered them as anything but obstacles. For whatever reason, she seems to have taken a slight interest in you."
Unsure of what Ghetsis is proposing, he merely stares at his blood on the ground and avoids looking at either of the monsters in the room.
"We must take advantage of this opportunity. You will be assigned Pokemon, a name, an entire fabricated identity. It will be arranged for you to meet her. You will befriend her, romance her, do whatever it takes to get into her good graces. You will report back to us regularly, and you will be given whatever aid is required to make her support our cause. One of the Seven Sages – most likely Zinzolin - will oversee your mission and provide the necessary training."
Once again, the colors in the plain room seem to glow, but this time the red of his blood on his uniform is striking too, and he is suddenly apart of it.
"If you are unable to turn her sympathetic to our goals, you will become her assassin."
The pain catches up; his vision falters and he falls to his knees, bleeding wrists pressed tightly to his chest.
"You have a sister and brother in Team Plasma as well, yes? If you succeed, all three of you will be rewarded. If not….Well, I'm sure you can guess."
Outside his field of vision, Ghetsis recalls his dragon and exits the room, leaving him and the porcelain cup alone.
One month later….
DUE TO UNEXPECTED FLOODING, THE DRIFTVEIL GYM IS CLOSED FOR TWO WEEKS TO FULLY REPAIR FLOODING DAMAGES. NO GYM BATTLES UNTIL THE GYM REOPENS. –DRIFTVEIL GYM LEADER CLAY
He grins as he reads the sign taped to the doors of the Driftveil Gym – the other grunts accomplished their task.
He waits an hour until she finally appears.
She approaches the Gym with the careless air of a person unaware Team Plasma has been watching her every move for the past few weeks. The signature too-short-shorts with pockets that jut out like teeth seem to wave at him.
(Today, as his long sleeves brush against the scars on his wrists from the fangs of Ghetsis's Hydreigon, the comparison is sickening.)
She soon appears at his side, reading the sign with a frown.
"Too bad, isn't it?" He asks casually, turning his face towards her.
Her frown deepens as she yanks a strand of hair out of her face, eyes still on the sign. Finally, she turns to face him – he is a full head taller than her, so she tilts her head slightly upwards to make eye contact. As she takes him in, a spark of recognition crosses her face like a storm cloud.
"You…The Team Plasma guy!" She hurls the accusation at him like mud and steps back, hands flying to the Pokeballs at her waist.
"No! I quit Team Plasma!" He exclaims, gesturing to his outfit - jeans and a long-sleeved gray shirt, far from the Team Plasma knight-like uniform – as proof of his statement.
(The wind picks up, and he imagines his words as leaves floating in the breeze, and then becoming a Razor Leaf attack aimed straight for her throat and face.)
If she is surprised, it does not show. Rather, she sends brown clumps of hair airborne with an assertive nod before resting her eyes on his face.
"What's your name?" She counters.
"Claudius."
(The name rolls off his tongue like he has been saying it his entire life, just as he practiced during his month-long training session. Zinzolin had told him that a Claudius from Castelia had once joined Team Plasma and left recently, so his backstory, trainer ID, badges, and credentials would all check out if anyone happened to look. Zinzolin never mentioned what happened to the original Claudius, and he never asked.)
"Claudius…" She mutters, trying out the name, committing it to memory, "why did you leave?"
(Zinzolin had warned him countless times that she was a direct and cynical person who might not believe him, but Team Plasma behavioral analysts had pounded into him the exact sort of person he needed to be and the exact nature of what he had to say in order to reach her. It was like marching into war with the enemy's battle plans.)
"Well," he drawled, "I haven't quite quit for good. It's more like a temporary leave." He trails off, waiting to see if she takes the bait.
She does, and the way it happens is maddeningly endearing; her eyes grow wide with intrigue, like a little lamb who fails to see the butcher's knife gleaming just out of her eyesight. "Why just temporary?"
"I'm not sure if Team Plasma is the right choice…It's kind of personal, I don't really want to discuss it." He lowers his face and glances downwards for effect.
"Sorry for prying." She crosses, then uncrosses her arms. "I'm White, by the way." She offers him a dainty smile unfitting to fear she causes his organization.
'There it is', he thinks. 'Just as predicted.' The opening. The part where she slowly begins to trust him.
(Something squirms inside him, but he suppresses it.)
"Nice to meet you." He smiles before changing subjects. "I'm guessing you're here to challenge the Gym too?"
"Of course. I'm surprised you are though. I thought Team Plasma abhorred the Gym system?" She looks at him curiously, clearly unwilling to change the subject.
"I earned four badges before I joined Team Plasma. Like I said, I'm taking a break and figuring things out. I figured I'd start with a Gym match using the Pokemon I had before I joined, see how it goes." He shrugs. "I sort of wonder if the Gym being closed is a sign I should just stick with Team Plasma."
Again, she falls for it, hook, line, and sinker.
"Don't think like that!"
"It's just hard because I don't really know anyone outside of Plasma anymore," he sighs.
(Part of him wonders if he is laying the act on too thickly, but her smile seems sweet and genuine and meant only for him. The squirming feeling returns, but this time he recognizes it as guilt and shame – he is a monster sent by an even bigger monster to either warp this girl and her ideals until she is unrecognizable or take her life - and thinks of the only other option – his brother and sister's bloated corpses sailing down a river -to repress it.)
"Well, you sort of know me." Her mumbled response is addressed to her feet as she gently tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear.
The sudden onset of shyness shocks him, but he does not show it and shrugs. "Not really."
Her eyes narrow and her head tilts forward. "Well, get to know me!" Pink lightly dusts her cheeks, but her blue eyes are back on his face.
"How?" He allows amusement to creep into his voice.
"I don't know."
"Well, since we're both stuck here until the Gym reopens, which won't happen today, want to get dinner or something?" The ease at which the sentence slithers out of his throat stuns him.
"Fine. There's a noodle place two streets over." She gestures in a direction and he nods.
"6?"
"6:30." She decides breathlessly.
He tips his head in acknowledgement, makes up some excuse, and departs.
Team Plasma is truly spectacular, he muses as he turns on the shower in his dinky hotel in Driftveil City.
They had deconstructed White and her weaknesses flawlessly; the prediction of which qualities would draw her in was dead on.
She was both blessed and cursed with the need to be a hero, the need to be everyone's savior – it both compels her forward and holds her back.
She very likely thinks she can save him, convince him to forever disaffiliate from Team Plasma.
He laughs at the absurdity of the situation as he washes his hair with the cheap hotel shampoo.
She does not seem to realize he is a mere distraction, meant to brainwash her when her defenses were low or when all else fails, incapacitate her.
He shuts the water off and steps out of the shower. In the mirror, scars on his shoulders and chest jump out at him like exclamation points. The sight makes him wince.
His hand brushes the heart-shaped scar on his left shoulder from when he misremembered one of the street names in Castelia, Claudius's hometown, which he was supposed to have perfect knowledge of.
Team Plasma had done a good job on him too; transforming an unwilling wallflower who only wanted to disappear in the forest of identical grunts into Claudius, White's friend/lover/potential assassin.
But there are so many scars. One scar per mistake, to be exact.
He dries himself off and gets ready for dinner with White.
They meet at 6:30 that night for overpriced (in her opinion) spaghetti and dry bread. He tells her the fabricated stories from Claudius's childhood he so dutifully memorized, and she trades him tales of her journey thus far. He expertly steers the conversation away from Team Plasma with the same grace she guides her Pokemon in battle.
Wordlessly, her dainty fingers grasp at a Pokeball when they walk out of the restaurant, so he smiles good-naturedly and nods.
His Pokeball flies through the air, releasing a green blur with snapping jaws and flashes of red.
The corners of her mouth turn upwards mischievously. "A Basculin? This should be easy." Her Servine appears in front of her as if it had been there the entire time.
A violent tornado of swirling leaves renders the water-type unconscious within seconds, but the loss does not faze him, because he does not expect to win.
His Ducklett manages to get in a few hits before the slithering Pokemon unleashes several more Leaf Tornado attacks, knocking the duck unconscious. He switches into his final and strongest Pokemon, an energetic Spheal that barks at its opponent before discharging Blizzards and Ice Beams while dodging attacks.
Enough attacks hit their mark and Servine collapses on the battlefield with a muted hiss. For a second, neither of them move, both surprised that her prized first Pokemon lost.
She recovers quickly, replacing her Servine with a Braviary that trounces on the spherical, plushy Pokemon and pecks it into unconsciousness before it can get a single attack in.
She gives him a look as they both recall their Pokemon. "Are those the Pokemon you used before you joined?"
"Water-Pokemon were always my favorite….I wanted to run a Water-type Gym." He mutters the response absent-mindedly, then freezes.
(That was his story. Claudius's father had been a Sailor who instilled his love of Water Pokemon into his son, and that alone was enough for Ghetsis to justify him being allowed to use his pre-Team Plasma Water Pokemon for the mission. It was a minor deviation from the script, but as the scars burned into his back reminded him, every little detail had been carefully thought out and the smallest amount of carelessness or improvisation could have devastating consequences.)
"My father was a Sailor, so it runs in the family, I guess. He sort of got me into training Pokemon, you know?" He hastily rectified.
(The script had been drilled into him to the point where Claudius had become his second skin; no matter how minor the added Gym Leader detail was, how could he slip up?)
For a split-second, he imagines – or sees? – a pained look on her face like a parent whose child has run away, but it vanishes, and she throws another smile at him. (Somehow, it feels like a knife.)
"So Basculin, Ducklet, and Spheal, huh? Not bad for a future Gym Leader." She winks conspiratorially. "You seem a bit rusty though…Rematch?"
They exchange Xtransceiver contact information, and he leaves her with one final commentary before they depart.
"Well, White, guess I'll have to start training again so I can beat you."
White blinks and targets him with wide eyes. "That's the first time I've heard you say my name." Her voice is quiet, almost wistful, but she ducks her head downward and leaves before he can respond.
Later that night…
A look of confusion crosses his face when he arrives at the address Zinzolin gave him – it is a dingy bar called Jolly Roger and tucked between a flowershop and an antique shop, quite the unlikely place for a temporary Team Plasma headquarters. He orders a purple pom rita and tips the bartender 800 with a wink, just as Zinzolin instructed.
Within minutes, he feels a tap on his shoulder and spins around. Long brown hair in a ponytail, blue eyes, and a womanly body greet him.
(For an instant, he thinks she is White, but she is an incher shorter than White with dull eyes and a flat face. Although she appears to be in her late-teens like White and her curves fill her dress out more than White's curves would, he only considers her attractive for her visual similarity to White.)
The woman smiles mischievously and smooths her ponytail, the gold P on her ring catching the light in the process. He adjusts the cuffs on his fancy shirt – hoping she notices the gold P cufflinks – and returns her smile.
She takes him by the hand and leads him past the bouncers and up creaky old stairs to the second floor.
The room is poorly-lit, but he can make out several couches and the Team Plasma crest hanging innocently on the wall. Some wear their Team Plasma uniforms, a few wear the ceremonial robes of the Sages, but all are drinking and engaged in conversation. There are four small rooms with couches in the back with curtains that can be spread for privacy; two are already occupied. A dark-haired male in Team Plasma uniform waves excitedly, so the woman who looks like White waltzes over, leaving him alone.
"CLAUDIUS!" He looks around when he hears his codename, and his eyes soon fall on a figure in deep purple robes. Zinzolin is holding a clear bottle filled with purple liquid and beckoning toward him from one of the couches.
When he reaches Zinzolin, the tall man sitting on the couch next to Zinzolin laughs.
"Ah, so you're the in-fuh-muss Claudius Zinzolin's been tah-king 'bout all night? Ya know, the real Claudius ran in-tuh uh accident when he screwed up his mish-in." The tall man laughs again, spilling whatever liquid his cup contains on the busty blonde female sitting on his lap. She sighs and tugs at her stained skirt in distress, but no one else takes notice.
Zinzolin frowns at the divergence of information and whispers something to the tall man, who shrugs, gathers up the blonde in his lap, and disappears behind a curtained section of the room.
"Well?" Zinzolin gestures at the now vacant spot next to him.
He obediently sits down and tells Zinzolin about the events of the day. The sage nods thoughtfully before taking a sip of the purple liquid.
"Your mission has become more urgent – In a few days, we will begin set up in the Cold Storage just south of town. White cannot be allowed to sabotage or jeopardize this mission. You must keep her distracted. "
He nods once before the Sage continues. "She has beaten N twice now. Her very existence lowers the morale of the grunts. She is stronger and more dangerous than we expected when we began your training a month ago."
Zinzolin does not possess the calm-before-the-storm fury that oozes out of Ghetsis and the many folds of his robe, but the tone in Zinzolin's voice still makes him sit up straighter.
"Ghetsis wants her to be Team Plasma's Queen. Whether or not that's even possible, I don't know. Getting her to agree to support Team Plasma is enough of a challenge, never mind getting her to actively become a poster child for the organization. Still, that just goes to show you the importance of your task. Ghetsis's eyes are on you and this mission."
(He remembers the small room with the table and the porcelain teacup and subconsciously rubs at the concealed scars decorating his wrists like bracelets. He cannot imagine what Ghetsis means by 'Queen', nor can he imagine what Ghetsis would inflict upon White to bend her to his will.)
"You were originally given a month to complete this mission, but because we need to move some other events up, your time has been cut down to just two weeks from today. From what you told me, it seems like she is very receptive of you. Befriend her, screw her, do whatever it takes to at least get her off our back. She cannot be allowed to interfere with our activity in the Cold Storage in any way."
Zinzolin leans forward as if imparting a great secret.
"In all honesty, I am not sure if a mission regarding matters of the heart can be sufficiently fulfilled in only two weeks. I foresee this turning into an assassin mission."
He tries to picture White – the person both blessed and cursed with the need to be everyone's savior, who was able to see good in a worthless, supposedly-reformed Team Plasma Grunt, with her blue eyes offset by pink cheeks when she demanded he get to know her – dead. By his hand.
His mind refuses to picture it.
Perhaps Zinzolin picks up on his hesitation or has simply had too much to drink or just feels particularly cruel, because he leans in closes and whispers, "Ghetsis told me about your brother and sister in Team Plasma."
Then the Sage stands up, dusts imaginary dust off his robes, and leaves.
With one week and six days of his mission left, he decides takes her to Nimbasa City.
(The image of his brother and sister's bloated corpses sailing down a river floats into his head. He cannot pick between them and White. She has to fall in love with him and switch sides. She simply has to. There is no other option.)
Aware of her training schedule, he gives the nurse at the Driftveil Pokemon Center a note with instructions to deliver it to White when she heals her Pokemon.
He has her registered in his Xtransceiver, but "Claudius" is too shy to call her.
Xxxxxx
"White,
I really enjoyed dinner with you yesterday, and I was hoping to see you again. The Musical Theater in Nimbasa City is hosting a play put on by a traveling theater company. I bought tickets – would you like to go with me? If so, please meet me at the Driftveil Pokemon Center at 6 tonight.
Hope to see you soon,
Claudius"
White walks into the Pokecenter at 6pm with pink cheeks and a sly smile.
"Hey," he calls, gliding to her side to meet her, and her smile almost makes him forget he is on a mission.
They fly to Nimbasa City on her Braviary, and she leans backwards into him, so he puts both arms around her waist.
They are uncharacteristically physical as they shuffle into the theater and find their seats; her hand pulling his hand forward, their sides touching, his lips (briefly) on the back of her neck.
(He tries to remember that it is Claudius – not him – that she is touching and here with tonight.)
As they loosely clasp hands during the production, the irony of taking her to a play strikes him. He is, after all, playing the role of Claudius.
(There are exactly two outcomes to this play, and one of them results in her death. Only White can decide which ending plays out onstage.)
"Hey," She whispers into his chest one day, "quit Team Plasma."
He does not respond.
"You're so much happier like this, I can tell…No offense, but they're terrible people, you know? I know we haven't know each other very long, but I can't stand them…I don't know how much you were told, but I've been battling them a lot…I'm going to stop them."
He does not respond.
She pulls away. "I'm sorry, we don't have to talk about it. I've just been thinking about …stuff."
('Stuff' can mean so many things here – Team Plasma, him, the future, him and her together – but there is one thing it definitely means.
She picked the wrong ending.)
Two days before the deadline, he wakes up in his apartment naked.
White sleeps peacefully cuddled against his chest, a subdued smile crossing her face like a white flag waving in the wind.
Gently, he rubs the skin above her heart – the place where he is expected to stab her, pierce the skin and damage the organ within while her blood gushes out of the wound and she dies with anger in her ruptured heart.
(Last night, she had kissed every single scar of his with tears in her eyes and never asked where they came from.)
He cannot do it.
At least, that is what he concludes on the second floor of the Jolly Roger bar, surrounded by other Team Plasma members.
Someone hands him another glass, and he drinks the syrupy red liquid without question.
The woman who looks like White is sitting on his lap, smiling coyly. The blonde with the stained skirt he saw on his first night is perched on Zinzolin's lap, all smiles and cleavage. The tall man he saw her with is absent.
The people around start to become blurry, but they are all meaningless to him. Suddenly dizzy, he looks down at the floor to steady himself as Not-White laughs in his ear.
He could run, he realizes – there is not enough alcohol to wash away the sins he has committed and is expected to commit, but he could leave them all behind.
Ghetsis's words float through his head -
"You have a sister and brother in Team Plasma as well, yes? If you succeed, all three of you will be rewarded. If not….Well, I'm sure you can guess."
(Hydreigon really is the Pokemon best suited to Ghetsis, he realizes; violent, destructive, willing to eradicate anything and anyone not only to accomplish goals, but also for entertainment.)
He laughs bitterly. He has not seen either of his siblings since they joined Team Plasma two years ago – Ghetsis could have already had them killed, for all he knows.
Thinking that something she said made him laugh, Not-White giggles and presses herself harder into his chest.
He remembers the feeling of White, sweet White cuddled into his chest asleep, completely unaware that he means death to her.
He feels unshed tears swell in his eyes, but he cannot show weakness here.
He grabs Not-White roughly and stands. Confused, she shoots him a look, but he does not care. Stumbling, he leads her to the one of the rooms in the back and she seems to get the message, closing the curtain behind them for privacy.
They land carelessly on the couch and soon lose their clothes. She has a long scar running from her left shoulder to her hip, but he does not ask, and she does not inquire about his numerous scars.
"White", he whispers, and she does not even seem to mind, because surely, there is someone Not-White is trying to forget as well.
He feels like a monster the next day.
With the deadline looming tomorrow, he decides to tell White everything.
(Everything is numb.)
Remembering that White always heals her Pokemon right before they take a lunch break, he goes to the PokeCenter at eleven o'clock.
Two hours pass before he realizes she is not coming and something has changed.
Her words from the other day drift into his head – "I've been battling them a lot…I'm going to stop them", and realization and horror and panic hit him all at once.
He runs south of town.
Outside of the Cold Storage, two leering grunts send out their Pokemon. White's Servine appears in a flash of light and takes out both Pokemon in a whirl of leaves.
The defeated grunts run cursing into Cold Storage, leaving White and her Servine alone outside. Back tensed, she turns in anticipation of another battle at the sound of his footsteps, and the light catches her eyes mid-turn as her hair spays out behind her like a majestic, living crown. A spark of anger crosses her face like a storm cloud as he pulls up to her, and somehow he knows she already knows everything.
"Claudius," she spits the name out like a Cinccino using Bullet Seed, "or whatever the hell your real name is. Are you here as backup to defend whatever is in Cold Storage with the rest of Team Plasma?"
There is fire and anger and above all, hurt – how, how could you, you monster – in her eyes and the angle of her down-turned mouth and her fighting stance and her clenched fists. His world is burning before his eyes, but all he can manage is "What?"
"You know I've been fighting Team Plasma…There are other people, Gym Leaders and Trainers, doing the same…One of our double agents asked around about you. They said that the only 'Claudius' that had ever been part of Team Plasma had been killed weeks ago." Her voice cracks. She stops for a moment, shoulders shaking, holding something back. Her head angles downward, hat hiding her face from him. She switches topics.
"We knew something was going to happen in this town, but after Team Plasma destroyed the Gym, we assumed it would be something else involving the Gym. Then we heard something was happening in the Cold Storage, and destroying the Gym was just to distract Clay." Her voice is miles and miles away, almost like she is talking to herself.
White looks up suddenly, and he is surprised to see tears in her eyes. They hit the ground silently, but she makes no move to wipe them from her eyes. The hurt expression is back. "Yesterday…our double agent received word that Team Plasma assigned someone to…handle me. That…that was you, wasn't it? You were sent to get rid of me, weren't you?" She states it flatly and doll-like, like they are discussing a play and tears are not rolling down her cheeks.
He says quietly, "I was supposed to distract you from Cold Storage and convince you to come to our side, or assassinate you if I could not."
She stares blankly.
"Look, it's not all that simple? You're the one who had to notice me. You're the one who had to talk to me like we were friends or something in front of one of the sages. You think I wanted to do this? You think this was easy for me? Where do you think all those scars came from?" He is yelling now, and she shrinks backwards like she is the victim, which she is, but he is a dead man walking, and there is nothing left to lose. (He cannot lose White – he never really had her.)
The unshed tears from the other day are back. "I joined Team Plasma so I would have something to belong to. I just wanted to be a part of something bigger than me…I never signed up for any of this shit. Look, my brother and sister are part of Plasma too, and I don't know where they are right now or what they're doing, but they're going to die with me."
Now he is crying too. "I know I can't change you, but I can't kill you either. I just can't."
As the tears fall, an idea strikes him. In his head, Ghetsis's words - "she could jeopardize our mission" - mix with Zonzolin's words – "She has beaten N twice now. Her very existence lowers the morale of the grunts. She is stronger and more dangerous than we expected."
"White…You can stop them, right? You can defeat Team Plasma?" The sudden change of topic seems to startle White, but he ignores it.
(He thinks of life without Team Plasma. He thinks of the tall man who disappeared for saying the wrong thing, and Not-White with her silence and long scar running from her shoulder to her hip, and the busty blonde woman who was reduced to flirting with powerful men three times her age. He thinks of his brother and sister, doing who-knows-what who-knows-where. )
She nods once, confusion and anger evident in her features.
(He thinks of how Ghetsis hurts and tortures the same people who dedicate their lives to Team Plasma. 'Three lives is a small price to pay if it eliminates Team Plasma', he decides, abruptly.)
"White…Don't trust anyone, ok? You have no idea what Ghetsis is capable of…He wants you to either become Queen of Team Plasma or die. He is willing to betray and hurt his subordinates to make it happen. You've been on surveillance on and off…Look, there's a lot of stuff I regret, but I'm going to make it right. I'm dead either way."
White frowns, but he does not have enough time to elaborate. Every second he talks is another second the Grunts have to prepare.
"Get out of this town immediately, it's filled with Team Plasma. You have to go underground and be inconspicuous or they'll just keep targeting you. They fear you now, even Ghetsis. You can beat them, but never let them catch you alone like this again."
He throws three Pokeballs into the air, releasing his Basculin, Ducklet, and Spheal. Her frown is replaced by confusion, but there is simply not enough time to explain. "Get as far away from this place as possible," he reiterates.
Her Servine hisses and steps forward to defend White, but he merely shakes his head and walks past them like a man headed for the guillotine.
"Just so you know…I really did want to run a Water-type Gym. Not all of it was Claudius." He is almost at the entrance to the Cold Storage and refuses to look back at White, but he hears a small gasp accompanied by a choking noise as she finally pieces his intentions together.
She chokes out, "What's your name?"
He runs in without giving it to her because it is worthless.
Spheal seals the door shut with an Ice Beam so no one can enter or escape.
His Pokemon simultaneously destroy and defend against the swarm of weak Grunt Pokemon, a testimony to the effectiveness of his training with White.
He revels in the cacophony of Pokemon screams and human shouts and obliteration.
(His final act. His sacrifice. For the men and women who joined Team Plasma looking for something more, only to be crushed. For the life he and his siblings could have had. For her.)
By the time they catch him, he and his Pokemon have destroyed almost everything.
He coughs up more blood.
Ghetsis laughs at him, and the similarities between Ghetsis and his Hydreigon strike him once again.
He struggles against the rope tying him to the chair, entire body shaking. He is back in the tiny room where Ghetsis first told him about the mission, but this time he is tied to the chair and Ghetsis is standing. The porcelain cup still lies on the brown table separating them.
Ghetsis's Hydreigon steps forward and opens one of its smaller mouths, allowing three unharmed Pokeballs to tumble out like gumballs out of a gumball machine. They roll onto the table, gravity finally bringing them to a halt.
He coughs again. The door opens, surprising him when Not-White and the busty blonde woman enter the room with two large black plastic bags, avoiding eye contact with him. They pull crumpled up newspapers out of the bag and spread them around the room until most of the floor is covered, then they exit.
Ghetsis smiles, and a difference between Ghetsis and his Hydreigon hits him – while a Hydreigon simply revels in destruction, Ghetsis's true delight and expertise lies in calculating the damage so it causes the most pain possible.
"This warehouse isn't too far from the Cold Storage. The police are bound to catch onto it in a few days. Rather than removing all incriminating evidence and risk leaving something behind, we've decided it would be easier to burn the entire warehouse down, along with a few choice individuals such as yourself." Ghetsis laughs again. "I believe your brother and sister are somewhere in this building as well."
He stiffens.
"Don't be sad, you have your Pokemon to keep you company." The sage gestures towards the three Pokeballs on the desk. "You can watch them burn."
Ghetsis leaves, but his Hydreigon stays behind. The drake shoots a ball of fire at one of the newspapers on the floor and growls before flying away to set more fires.
The fire leaps to the table first, and he can only struggle against the ropes as he watches the flames move closer to him and the Pokeballs containing his Pokemon.
She is exhausted from her decisive win over N when Ghetsis suddenly steps up, visible eye flashing and teeth gleaming.
The blood in her veins freezes- she and her Pokemon are not prepared for this, cannot handle another battle – and her thoughts turn negative – oh god I can't we can't we are going to die why did this have to happen.
Words from Driftveil City play in her head - "They fear you now, even Ghetsis. You can beat them…You can stop them, right? You can defeat Team Plasma?" – and she calmly grits her teeth and sends out her first Pokemon.
The entire battle, his shouts – "You think I wanted to do this? You think this was easy for me? Where do you think all those scars came from?" – are a soundtrack in the back of her mind.
In her first interview after her victory over N and Team Plasma, White is polite but distant, answering each question patiently. Her long blue dress is immaculate, and her hair and makeup are orderly, but her eyes are glassy and doll-like rather than confident and assuring.
A reporter asks her, "You've stated that the Gym Leaders supported you a lot, but is there anyone else in particular that inspired you?"
For a split-second, the facade slips. "I once met someone who showed me how Team Plasma treated its own people…He's long gone, but I will never forget what he told me and my promise to him to destroy Team Plasma."
She refuses to field any more questions on the topic.
White had vowed to never go to Driftveil City again, but Clay guilts her into coming to see his newly rebuilt Gym before she goes on her journey to search for N.
She tiptoes guilty around the town, doing her best to avoid memories better forgotten.
She heals her Pokemon at the PokeCenter before she leaves.
Strangely, the nurse hands her a crumpled piece of paper. "I'm not sure what this is or who it is from, but my predecessor told me to give this to you if you ever came here again."
One word is written on the paper in messy handwriting:
SANTINO
Three years later…
White enters the Humilau Gym cautiously, but is pleasantly surprised to find the Gym relatively normal, a blend of Ace Trainers on wooden platforms, tall grass, and lily pads all drifting gently in peaceful water. It is a far cry from the chaotic cannons of Skyla's Mistralton Gym or the sticky honey festering in the Castelia Gym run by Burgh.
An Ace Trainer soon makes eye contact and challenges her, apparently not recognizing her as the winner of the Unova league from three years prior. White is about to explain that she is only there to introduce herself to the new Gym Leader and not challenge the Gym, but Serperior's Pokeball wiggles conspiratorially on her belt and she has never been one to turn down a challenge.
Together, they defeat his Floatzel and Mantine with ease, and the next Ace Trainer's Alomomola as well.
White does not recall Serperior, so her Green partner slithers onto the next lily pad with her. The lily pad comes to stop in front of another Ace Trainer who merely looks at White. Serperior hisses a challenge, but he does not react.
In the eight Gyms of Unova, she had never once encountered someone who did not challenge her upon first sight.
She leaps off the lily pad and approaches the strange Ace Trainer, Serperior at her side.
He smiles as a throws a Pokeball into the air. "Oh! To think that you would deliberately seek me out for a battle! I'm so tickled that I won't hold anything back as a reward!"
A Walrein materializes in front, shaking its large fangs in anticipation, but White does not move. She has heard his voice before…
There is electricity in the air, but this moment is impossible. The man in front of her is dead, disappeared, forgotten by all but her, yet he stands in front of her with a smile on his face and a Pokemon on the battlefield. His hair is dyed blue and his pants and jacket match the rest of the Ace Trainers, but she knows him.
"Blizzard!" He commands, and Serperior eagerly propels itself forward to land a Mega Drain on the foe before it has the chance to attack.
White numbly goes through the motions of battle before her Serperior unleashes enough Mega Drain attacks to knock the Walrein unconscious.
The Ace Trainer returns his Pokemon, leaving only silence on the battlefield.
In disbelief, White asks, "Who are you?"
There are so many ways he could answer that question. An Ace Trainer. A Water-type Trainer in Marlon's Gym. A man who wears the Ace Trainer costume to blend in. A Former Team Plasma Grunt. A man who walked into a snake's nest of Team Plasma, destroyed almost everything, and survived. A man who was locked in a Hydreigon's fire and almost did not survive. Her former assassin. Claudius.
Instead, over three years later, he finally gives her his name:
"Santino."
Her eyes grow large. "You left me that note in Driftveil City."
He merely nods. Serperior hisses again, reminding White that they are in the middle of a battle. Everything is upside and backwards and wrong but right, and confusing above all. A battle is something she knows, something she can wrap her head around. "So I'm guessing your Spheal evolved into that Walrein…What about your Basculin and Ducklett?"
"They're gone." Santino says quietly. "Marlon wants me to train other water Pokemon, but nothing has worked so far…"
(She does not need to know about that dark moment in the tiny room with the brown table and the porcelain cup and the fire, and how he watched the spheres containing his Basculin and Ducklett burn to ashes before he could free himself.)
White nods, but does not press the matter any further. "Does Marlon…know?"
"Team Plasma never bothered Marlon; he's somewhat oblivious about it. He was receptive towards me and some other former members that wanted to change their ways." The long sleeves and pants of the Ace Trainer clothes cover up his scars and burn marks, save for the twisted burnt flesh on his right palm.
(He will never forget - as soon as he freed his hands, he had reached straight into the fire and plucked Spheal's Pokeball out of the inferno and released the Pokemon before the burning metal collapsed in on itself.)
"I thought you were dead." It is blunt.
He shrugs. "They tried to burn one of the warehouses in Driftveil City down with people inside it…I was able to release my Spheal and put out some fire. We weren't able to save anyone else in the building…My brother and sister were inside it." Talking about it after so long is odd. Santino usually tries to forget, and no one in his new life knows. He shifts uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry."
He says nothing, because the gap between them is too great for words. White bites her lip, but everything she has thought for the past three years comes tumbling out anyway.
"You know, I thought about you and our last conversation a lot. For the longest time, I hated you, for lying to me…But, I guess you sort of had to do it. I thought about you and what you said when I defeated Ghetsis…I don't know if I would have pulled through otherwise. I really…I liked you. For a little bit, I thought we could be happy together." Her voice breaks. "I…I know you were on a mission, but you said you wanted to run a Water-type Gym and not all of it was Claudius...and here you are, working in a Water-type Gym. So…what was Claudius and what was Santino?"
(It is a question that has plagued him for the past three years. He had never wanted to hurt her and had run into the Cold Storage so she could attain her dreams with every intention of sacrificing himself.)
He is about to respond, but…
(At the same time…The man who charmed her and went on dates with her was Claudius, an entity formulated and specifically trained by Team Plasma to embody the qualities most likely to attract her. She never really stood a chance. Whatever she may or may not feel or felt for him is likely a byproduct of a failed Plasma mission, even if she did notice him in the first place. Is it really fair of him to take advantage of that?)
Santino gives White a subdued smile. "It's…complicated. Maybe you should finish the Gym challenge, and then we'll talk about it at length in private?"
It is a copout, and White seems to notice. "Ok," the word comes out weakly, like this is the last thing she wants to do, "you'll be here when I'm done?"
He nods once, which seems to reassure White. She gives him a long look he does not know how to interpret before turning and heading off to the next challenge without looking back.
Half-ashamed and half in love with her, he steps onto the lily pad.
He is gone when White returns, and she is not sure if this surprises her or not. The Gym guide tells her that Santino quit suddenly and without explanation.
She flies to Virbank City to introduce herself to the next new Gym Leader, a bass guitar player named Roxie who specializes in Poison-type Pokemon.
Her life is a blur. There are people who demand to know why she did not come back from her journey to find N to help defeat the new Team Plasma. Cheren is busy running his Gym, Bianca is busy being an Assistant Pokemon Professor, and between N and Santino, she is sick of people she cares about disappearing.
(Every once in a while, a man that reminds her of Santino stands out to her in a crowd, but he always disappears again before she can find him.)
(…With the exception of the day after her 25th birthday. She is waiting for the ferry on Unity Pier in Castelia City, when she spots a Walrein sleeping next to a fisherman. His back is towards her, and she never would have noticed him if not for the sleeping Walrein. He stands up to stretch and turns, unintentionally locking eye contact with her.
He is not wearing the Team Plasma Grunt uniform, or the Ace Trainer clothes, or anything special. He just looks like a normal person, and she is not sure if he is Santino or not.
…But then he takes a step towards her and the guilt and shame that links them appears in his eyes.
She turns and boards the ferry without looking back.)
(She never sees him again.)
'FORMER CHAMPION WHITE FROM NUVEMA TOWN IS ENGAGED' reads the headline. The fisherman casts the newspaper aside, his Walrein whining at his side.
He can finally answer the question she posed to him all those years ago.
"What was Claudius and what was Santino?"
'Claudius' was what Team Plasma made him, and 'Santino' was who she taught him to be, a person capable of running into certain death for loved ones rather than hiding under crumbled Team Plasma armor.
(His name was Santino long before he joined Team Plasma, but she gave it a definition beyond meek wallflower – she set him ablaze, but in a different way than what happened in that tiny room with the brown table and the porcelain tea cup. He is no longer content with being the lowest of the low.)
He releases the Swanna he caught on Marvelous Bridge. She spreads her wings in greeting, and he climbs on her back.
They fly to Humilau City, where tryouts for Marlon's successor as Gym Leader of the only Water-type Gym in Unova are being held.
A/N:
Ace Trainer Santino is actually a NPC in Marlon's Gym in Black/White 2. He doesn't battle you unless you talk to him, which is very odd for a trainer in a Gym. He only battles with a Walrein and he really does say "Oh! To think that you would deliberately seek me out for a battle! I'm so tickled that I won't hold anything back as a reward!" (Of course, the Team Plasma part is something I made up.)
So WhitexTeamPlasmaGrunt is basically a crack pairing, but I thought it would be fun to see if I could make it realistic. I looked through spoilers and read about Ace Trainer Santino and figured, why not have the grunt work as an Ace Trainer in Marlon's Gym. This is probably the only WhitexAceTrainerSantino fic in the fandom! Considering they don't even meet in canon, that might actually be more of a crack pairing than WhitexTeamPlasmaGrunt. Actually, I guess you could call this WhitexFormerTeamPlasmaGruntAceTrainerSantino. Wow. This has to be the most random pairing with White in existence. Actually though, I challenge you to find a more random White pairing. Something is clearly wrong with me.
Anyway, I'm happy with this fic. I think it takes a few fairly unpredictable yet reasonable turns. The hardest part was figuring out the ending. I might go back and change it later, depending on what feedback I get.
What did you think? I would really appreciate a review, this was tough but enjoyable to write.