Happy

Characters: Volkner, Flint

Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort

Rating: T because of cussing and the… theme…


Volkner was a lot of things. He was talented; a fabulous battler. He was a pretty smart guy. One thing he wasn't, however, was happy. He did his very best to hide this and he quite obviously wasn't very good at it. Still, most young ladies seemed to think this made him 'mysterious' and 'dark' and all of these other thing, when in actuality, he wasn't.

Volkner was…

Brought out of his own mindless thoughts as he sat boredly when his door burst open over-dramatically. The Jolteon that had been sleeping on the floor awoke with a start, crackling with electricity as he jumped to his feet. However, the Pokémon only discovered there was a friend in the doorway.

"Hiya!" Flint greeted, announcing his presence to Volkner and everyone within the entire apartment complex that that blond lived. Volkner simply responded with a small nod. Flint smacked upside the head, making his way to the kitchen to steal Volkner's food, Jolteon happily following after him. Usually Flint gave Volkner at least a bit of positive energy (how could he not?), but today... happiness really didn't seem like an option.

There wasn't anything in particular that was eating at him; he simply had these kinds of days. Some days, Volkner didn't want to leave the house. He didn't want to eat or talk or even sleep. He just didn't want to do anything.

This was one of those days.

He did not want Flint to be here; not today.

"Why are you here?" he finally managed to ask. Even to Volkner, his voice sounded pathetic. Flint, however, was completely oblivious and simply thought of it as Normal Volkner Behavior. He looks up at his friend from the nearby kitchen, a whole sandwich in his mouth. He 'accidentally' dropped a piece of meat on the ground, which Jolteon immediately scarfed down. Flint swallowed a bite.

"Why not?" He shrugged and looked down at Jolteon, who was licking the floor. "Hey, have you fed Jolteon lately? He seems… really… hungry…" Flint tilted his head, finally realizing something was most definitely 'off' with his dear friend. "Uh… Volkner?" Volkner said nothing. He looked out the window. "Volkner?" Flint frowned and dropped the rest of the sandwich on the floor for Jolteon, making his way back to the living room.

Volkner was sitting on the couch as he had been when Flint entered, but he came to realize that his friend was kind of in a sorry state. He was still in his pajamas, although it was late afternoon. There were bags under his eyes and he was unshaven. His eyes remained focused on the lights of Sunyshore in the darkening outside. Flint furrowed his eye brows in confusion.

"Volkner?"

"Why are you here?" the blond man asked again. Flint's eyes narrowed. He shoved his hands in his pockets and strode in front of the window, blocking Volkner's gaze. Volkner's expression didn't shift even slightly and he didn't look at Flint.

"Yo, what the hell is up with you?" Volkner didn't answer. He didn't blink. It didn't even look like he was breathing. Flint took a hand out of his pocket to snap his fingers loudly. Volkner slowly brought up his eyes to look Flint in the face.

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"No I don't." That was a complete, blatant, flat-out lie and they both knew it. Volkner knew exactly what he meant. It's not as if he wasn't aware of… this. He knew perfectly well that… this wasn't normal; not for anyone.

"Oh really?" Flint said in an uncharacteristically dry tone that was… actually more suited to Volkner. "Where are the normal complaints?" No answer. "Where are you normal sarcastic remarks?" No answer. "Where's Volkner?" The gym leader's eyes closed and his head went down. Flint got an answer out of that one.

"Not sure."

It wasn't the answer he was expecting and nothing he was prepared for. Flint simply stared at his friend with wide eyes and one hand in his pocket. Somewhere in the kitchen, Jolteon's claws clacked on the linoleum.

"Uh… Volkner…" Flint finally said after a moment. "This uh… this isn't right. Have you…" He trailed off, trying to think of a way convey this properly.

"Have I what?" Volkner asked slowly.

"I don't know… is there even a reason for…" His other hand came out of his pocket so he could properly flail his arms around Volkner's living room. "…this?" Volkner smashed his hands on his face, a sudden rush of irritability taking over.

"Why!? I don't even know what you're talking about!" Flint grabbed hold of Volkner's wrist and pulled one hand away from his face.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" he snapped. Volkner gave him a stone cold glare, but he was trembling. After a moment or two, Volkner reclaimed his arm and looked away.

"…It's nothing, okay? It's nothing."

"Bullshit." Volkner's eyes widened a little. The answer was so quick and so firm that he wasn't quite sure what to do.

So he stood.

"Listen, if you wouldn't just barge into my house unannounced, we wouldn't be having this problem." Flint's face was cold and his shoulders slumped.

"Really? Normally when I barge into your house unannounced, you're annoyed, not depressed. There's clearly some sort of issue here."

"I'm not depressed!" Volkner snapped a bit too fiercely, causing Flint to straighten up his posture, going wide eyed again.

Flint was a carefree, somewhat oblivious man. It was a common misconception that he was stupid. This was by no means true. He was actually rather intelligent when push came to shove.

"Vol-"

"I'm not depressed!" Volkner said a little louder, even though Flint didn't say anything.

"Volkner…"

"I'm not…" Volkner collapsed back to the couch, head in his hands. "I'm not… depress… ed…"

"You're depressed."

"I know, dammit! So leave me alone!"

"Hell no." Volkner gritted his teeth.

"Listen, I don't know what you're going to do, but you can't make me happy! You can't!"

"I know."

"It's im- what."

"I said 'I know'." Flint leaned back, putting his arms above his head. Volkner looked over at him in genuine shock, searching his face for an answer. Flint closed his eyes. "Hey, we've managed to keep this hidden from the general public for a good while now, but Lucian used to be pretty bad too." Volkner said nothing and his gaze did not change. "To most people he doesn't seem any different because all he does is read, but… he used to be different; trust me. The point is, it took an intervention from me, Aaron, and the ladies to make him even realize it. You, on the other hand, already know it's a problem. You just need to toughen up and ask someone for help."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"What?"

"'Toughen up and ask someone for help'. That doesn't make sense." Flint rolled his eyes.

"Right. And I'm the stupid one." The Elite leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, eyes focused on the ground. "A weak person does everything on his own. A weak person thinks he can solve everything without the help of someone else, even though he knows he needs it."

"Can a weak person be happy?" Flint contemplated this a moment.

"I don't think you're getting what I mean by 'weak'."

"I don't care. I just wan… t…" Volkner trailed off. Flint tilted his head.

"Hmm?"

"…I just want… to be happy…" Flint sighed heavily, pushing himself to his feet.

"If you want it that bad, you've gotta be willing to do something about it. Even if you feel like just sitting there, you've gotta do something. No matter how little energy you've got. Do something. Go for a walk, destroy some kid's Buizel, cause a region-wide blackout, I don't give a shit what it is. Do something." Flint headed for the door, Jolteon trotting up to say goodbye. "If you don't want help, you've gotta do it yourself."

And he was gone.

Volkner stared at the door for a long, long time. He was only snapped out of his trance when Jolteon jumped up beside him, curling up. He patted his head, small licks of electricity tickling his hand. The blond man thought for a moment, eyes focused on the floor.

What would it take to be happy? He didn't know.

Perhaps there was no formula. Maybe it wasn't something to be solved. Or maybe it was a very intricate process. He just didn't know.

Whatever it was, he couldn't deny Flint had a point. When he had one of those days where he didn't want to do anything, he didn't do anything. Simple as that. He never tried fighting that feeling.

Volkner stood. Jolteon tilted his head at his master.

The man did not know what steps he was supposed to take or where those steps would take him. But anything that could make him happy was worth a shot.

He would start with a shower.


Welcome one and all to my one-shot challenge! We have started things off with such a cheery story. Allow me to explain myself a bit here.

I, like many, suffer from depression. I am heavily medicated. (Which reminds me, when Flint said 'help' he meant 'see a damn doctor') But, as those of you who suffer along with me know, when no one knows and you're on your own, it's a hell of a struggle. I kinda tried to depict that but I'm not quite sure it worked out for me.

I promise not all of these will be serious. I'm going to try to vary my genres quite a bit.

So, it's time to continue. My goal is to finish this before the end of my senior year!

I have a 100 to go.

Gee.