Returning to Your Roots

Written by Fruit Punch

A Pokémon Fanfiction featuring Professor Birch and Norman

February 2016 – Present

Chapter 02: Empty Nest Syndrome

Rating: T

Warnings: None

"But Dad!"

"No, I've told you before and I will tell you again. You're not ready to challenge me yet."

"How would you even know? You won't fight me to see! I finally beat Roxanne and got Rustboro's gym badge."

"And that's fantastic, as you're father I am very proud of you. However, Roxanne is almost as wet behind the ears as you. She may be a gym leader, but she only graduated from the Trainer's School a year ago. While defeating her is definitely a big accomplishment and a stepping stone towards becoming a strong trainer, it is only the beginning."

"Dad, come on."

"You remember our agreement, get four gym badges and I'll fight you. And not before then."

Brendan grumbled and protested in irritation as he paced throughout the kitchen as he argued with his stubborn father, who was currently keeping his back towards his only child as he washed the dishes from their morning breakfast. It was a quiet sunny morning in their cozy Littleroot home, and Brendan and Norman were the only two residents inside. And as usual, Brendan was frantically disagreeing with his steadfast and obstinate father. It wasn't that the teen didn't like his father, it was just that Norman was so damn stubborn. Brendan was trying his hardest to succeed in becoming a powerful Pokémon trainer, ever since he had obtained his Mudkip from their family friend Professor Birch one and a half months earlier. His father Norman was a good father who was supportive and kind, but his one major parenting flaw was that he sometimes had a hard time letting go and admitting that Brendan could do things on his own. Sometimes Brendan wondered if his dad realized that he already celebrated his fifteenth birthday a few months ago. Yes, he was still a kid, but he was out on his own working on becoming a Pokémon trainer, and damn it he was succeeding so far. Norman had no problem congratulating Brendan and being proud, but the man seemed afraid to stop pulling the punches and removing the training wheels to let Brendan take the plunge into it all. Which wasn't entirely uncommon with parents, but the situation became incredibly annoying when your father was a registered Pokémon gym leader. It wasn't fair, Brendan was a trainer like any other challenger that came through the door at the Normal-type Pokémon Gym in Petalburg. A gym leader isn't supposed to refuse challengers that wish to test them, so it's incredulous and aggravating that as Brendan's father, Norman denied Brendan the ability to fight him, claiming Brendan wasn't ready. Yes, Brendan knew his father was strong, most of Brendan's Pokémon training skills were taught to the boy by his talented father. But how was Brendan supposed to learn more if his father continued to treat him like a child? This was not the first time that this discussion had surfaced, however. And Brendan was fully aware that he had seemingly hit a wall and was unable to gain any ground. Giving up for the time being, he cleared and cleaned the dining room table with a frustrated scowl.

Scrubbing the food residue off of a plate, Norman eyed his pouting son out of his peripheral vision. Back when Brendan had first received his first Pokémon, Norman was overjoyed, if not hesitant. Brendan had always been an incredibly fast child, both in learning and in his desire to improve. Sometimes this created a recipe for success, and other times it led to his boy being overly headstrong and failing, when simply taking his time would have aided his plight. Hard work was not where his son was lacking, it was patience. It had only taken Brendan two days after receiving his Mudkip and Pokémon Trainer's License paperwork before he had bolted to Norman's gym in Petalburg City and attempted to challenge the man. Of course, Norman had responded with a resounding no. The last thing Norman wanted to do was dash his son's hopes by utterly destroying the boy in battle. But at the same time, if Brendan wanted on official Hoenn Pokémon League gym match, Norman couldn't simply let the boy win. Jovial battles in the backyard were one thing, but when it came to gym badges and Pokémon League certification, Norman couldn't sully his gym or his son with a halfhearted fight. But, not wanting to seem unreasonable, Norman made a promise with his son that day to accept a challenge once Brendan was sufficiently strong enough. The father and son had agreed on the measurable goal of four gym badges. Once Brendan had defeated half of the Hoenn Pokémon League gyms in official League sanctioned matches, Norman would fight him in a real battle. Until then, Brendan was always welcome to stop back home and train with Norman, but he would not allow an official licensed match until then. This seemed to pacify his son at the time, but as Norman feared, soon afterwards Brendan was getting antsy. It was taking longer than the boy had anticipated, and the wait was driving the child mad. It was likely that Brendan was eager to prove himself to his father, whom Brendan had always seemed to look up towards. But what Brendan ignored was that Norman was proud of his son, incredibly proud. In little more than a month, Brendan had bonded with his Pokémon and strengthened himself to the point of being able to defeat Roxanne of the Rustboro Rock-type gym. He also had begun slowly journeying away from home, though so far he hadn't moved past Rustboro. Sometimes he came home to rest for a few days, and always stayed in relative contact with his parents while away. Norman's little boy was growing up, and he knew this. While it was scary, it was also something to be celebrated. But that didn't mean that there weren't still rules and procedures. There was simply an order to things, and Brendan was not ready to challenge Norman yet.

"How has May been doing lately?" Norman asked his son, attempting to divert the subject away from their unending argument.

"Huh?" Brendan stopped, caught off guard before mumbling a response. "She's fine, I guess. Why? What does she have to do with this?"

"I was just curious," Norman answered, shrugging as he rinsed the last of the cutlery. The water splashed off the several spoons and forks in his hand as they rubbed up against each other noisily. "You and her are still moving along at a similar pace, right?"

"I mean, kinda, yeah." Brendan meandered over into the living room that was connected to the dining room they had been residing in, flopping onto the couch with a thud. Lazily staring at the blank television, he groped around for the remote.

"That's good." Norman said simply, grabbing a towel to dry his hands. He glanced over at his son sprawled out on the leather sofa in tired disappointment as the boy turned the television on and reverted to typical teenage one word answers. Norman had succeeded in frustrating the boy to the point of near silence, and there was no point in attempting to further the conversation. Sighing, Norman looked out his window at the sunny morning in the quiet town and gazed at the Birch residence that sat beside their own home. Surely Birch must have better luck with his daughter. May always seemed so energetic and talkative, and whenever she saw Norman she was more than capable of holding an amicable conversation. Norman was glad that she and Brendan seemed to be such close friends and could look after one another while on their journeys. Although she had received her first Pokémon and her trainer's license an entire year and a half before Brendan, she originally had been content only traversing the nearby towns and assisting with her father's research. Professor Birch doted on his only daughter, and the two were very close. When Brendan was given his first Pokémon by her father, May took it upon herself to help her childhood friend begin his own journey. Originally it had seemed like she was just showing him the beginning steps, but soon enough she had asked Birch if she could also set off on her own journey. Her father seemed saddened to see her leave, as she was a phenomenal assistant for his studies, but Birch wholeheartedly supported her decisions, and Brendan and May ended up leaving together on the same day.

Looking over at the neighboring house and adjacent laboratory, Norman wondered if that meant that May was home visiting as well. The duo traveled at a similar pace and kept in contact, but they didn't exactly coordinate plans. They each had their own goals and challenged each other to keep pushing, and as such often met up. But that wasn't an ironclad rule. Still, Norman decided that he would make sure to stop by Professor Birch's lab to ask him about May, as well as to return the lab coat of his that Norman had found in his gym two days prior.

Norman's heart began racing in embarrassment as he remembered what he had done with the used lab coat when he had found it. Grunting, he grabbed a glass from the pantry and poured cold water into it, gulping it down quickly to calm down. Since that session with the garment (and the second session that followed it, and the eventual third one after that) Norman had washed it thoroughly in the machine in his gym, and all evidence seemed to have been erased. After its cleaning, Norman had spent a while examining and sniffing the coat to be certain. The manly scent of Birch, as well as the semen stains, had been removed. Thank god for heavy duty laundry detergent and a built in extra wash cycle.

Clearing his throat in an attempt to forget his current train of thought, Norman called out to his son, who was zoning out to some mindless talk show that the boy most likely was completely uninterested in. "Are you going to be home tonight? Your mother had asked me how many she needed to make dinner for."

"Probably not," Brendan responded. "I'm meeting up with May this afternoon and then we're thinking of heading back out. Sorry."

"Oh, alright." That meant Norman and his wife would be eating alone. Norman was disappointed, as he liked having Brendan around to lighten the often stiff mood of the house that had befallen over them lately. Though as Norman had just demonstrated to himself, sometimes he ended up even alienating his son. This only fueled Norman's fears that something was inherently wrong with himself, but he tried to ignore the thought. Well, at the very least, it meant that he had to see Birch earlier, as to be home in time for dinner so his wife wouldn't be alone. He tried to focus on that, the excitement of spending time with his best friend.

Because, after all, he had to find something to be positive about.

The sun was a little higher in the sky when Professor Birch walked out into his yard on the pleasantly warm late-spring morning. Closing his front door, Birch began walking through the grass, his heavy, wide steps accompanied by the thick flopping sound of his leather sandals against his feet with every raising of his foot, and followed by the sensation of the grass tickling his exposed toes when his feet again met the ground. The grass was long, and needed to be cut soon, Birch thought to himself. Strolling up to a door on a small shed attached to his home, Birch opened it and reached inside, his arm reappearing out of it with the large coils of a garden hose wrapped around his muscled hairy forearm. He carried the green piping over to a nearby nozzle on the building and walked to his flowerbed, tilting his head disapprovingly at the sight of it. Despite the grass growing well, his flowers weren't growing as well as they had in past years. Sure, the rain had been slightly more sparse than normal this season, but Birch had been making sure to water them regularly, and at times when the sun was not too high or strong overhead and would burn the wet leaves. The Pokémon professor had no need for the decorative plants, and while he wasn't bad with plants, he also didn't quite have a green thumb. But he liked the way flowers looked in full bloom in spring and summer, so every year he planted them in the small garden lining his house, choosing mostly hardier plants that weren't too demanding in an effort to keep them alive. His wife had always been much better tending to them than he was, and was the one who originally instilled the desire to keep a flowerbed in Birch. But she had died almost a decade prior, and Birch had been growing them himself ever since. His daughter May loved the plants, and usually helped him with the task of tending to them, as she helped with everything else in the house since there was no other feminine presence available. Birch was always so thankful to have her, he loved his daughter so much. But he couldn't keep her sheltered and assisting his day to day life forever, so when she asked to be allowed to start journeying on her own, Birch was saddened, but also happy to see her finally decide to do something she wanted to do, rather than something she felt she had to do while she lived with her single and lonely father, who tried his hardest to be self-sufficient but still hadn't managed to quite grasp the concept fully. Not that May had ever complained or given any indication of dissatisfaction, but still, Birch worried that he was keeping his daughter from her full potential as long as she stayed with him. So this spring was the beginning of a lot of firsts. It was the first season in years where he was in his laboratory alone, though May still visited as often as she could and would give him samples of specimens she found in the field. It was also the first season that he had to begin only cooking for one, rather than two. May and Birch shared the duty of cooking when she lived at home, so it wasn't that Birch was unable to make his own dinner. But he was used to cooking for two, and it was a hard habit to break. Oftentimes he still would make portions large enough to feed the both of them, and it tended to end with Birch eating much more than he planned on. Looking down, he put his hand on his stomach, feeling the fat squish underneath the fabric of his shirt. He'd better learn better portion control, unless he wanted to gain even more weight. And, of course, this was also the first spring in years that he was back to tending to the garden alone. Maybe that was why the flowerbed was suffering somewhat. Birch sighed and shook his head as he pressed the trigger on the head of the garden hose, beginning to lightly spray the flowers with a gentle stream of water. As a parent, he was supposed to be the one teaching his daughter how to function on her own without his assistance. But May had always been such a loving and helpful child, that Birch had grown very dependent on her aid. Here he was, her father and yet the one who needed more help learning how to live alone.

Professor Birch looked around at his small little town, still quiet as a small number of residents each lived out their own Saturday morning in the unassuming town of Littleroot. Birch had actually grown up in Oldale town, which resided only a few miles north of Littleroot. As such, he was very familiar with the pleasantly sleepy atmosphere of the town. He had moved away to Johto for college, but eventually graduated and returned home around two decades ago, taking up residence as one of the region's top Pokémon professors. Back in Hoenn he found his calling, and eventually his wife. They had a beautiful daughter, and his job flourished. Though she had passed away, Birch had long since finished mourning. But sometimes, on days like today, he couldn't help but feel a little lonely, as if many of the people he cared about were leaving him.

"Hey, Birch!" a friendly voice called out. The professor looked up to see his good friend Norman waving over from his neighboring yard. The heavyset man's mood instantly perked up upon seeing the Petalburg gym leader.

"Good morning, Norman!" Birch smiled and responded. "What are you doing home? I haven't seen you around here too much lately!"

Professor Birch watched as Norman left his own yard and trotted over to Birch, a small tote bag slung over his shoulder. "Yeah, sorry about that." The skinnier man answered as he finished moving towards his friend. "I've been busy."

Greeting Norman, Birch shut off his hose and began coiling it over his arm. Birch was so happy to see him. They had been such close friends in college, but had lost contact after graduation due to the demands of their careers and the distance. Birch had never expected to see his friend again, until the day he went to go meet the new Petalburg gym leader and was astonished to see Norman unpacking boxes in the wooden building, a little more aged and angular, but still undoubtedly his old friend. The two had reconnected, and two years after that Norman had mentioned that he wanted his wife and child, whom Birch knew of, but never met, to finally move to Hoenn with him. It was Birch and Norman's collective idea to situate the family in Littleroot, since Birch's old neighbors had moved out several months ago and the house was currently for sale. It felt like they were finally returning to old times, but for quite a while, Birch felt like Norman was never around anymore.

"You're always busy" Birch retorted jokingly. Norman had always been the type to lose himself in his work, and Birch knew this well. His friend had been like that ever since they met in college, staying up all night working or disappearing for days to follow up something that might help his research. Because of that, Birch never took offense to Norman's frequent absence, but he still was always elated to spend time with the gym leader.

"Yeah, I know" Norman sighed, his mind beginning to slip away into thought of the workload for the week. He still needed to file his monthly report to the Hoenn Pokémon League, and a small portion of one of the outer walls on the western facing side of the gym needed some minor repairs from weather damage. Next month was also the biannual review of his gym trainers, which involved a mock test battle and renewing of certification, as well as individual one-on-one discussions about pay, personal growth, and the like. Norman kept turning over his extensive to-do list in his head until he realized he was still in the middle of a conversation, one with his best friend, no less. Snapping back to reality, Norman mentally chastised himself for his wandering thoughts. It was a bad habit of his that he could never quite manage to break.

"Is it alright that you're away from the gym? Sometimes it seems to take an entire mob to successfully drag you away." Birch asked, watching his friend mentally rejoin the conversation with a knowing smile. He was sure that Norman's mind was going at a mile a minute and in ten different directions, the man was always stretching himself a little too thin, but never enough to cause serious problems. It only made Professor Birch more grateful when Norman attempted to set aside time for their friendship.

"It's fine," Norman said, waving the thought away. "Lori and Berke are there today, they'll call me if something comes up."

"It must be nice living within walking distance, so your gym trainers can just watch the gym for you once in a while." Birch raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Is Brendan visiting today?" Lately, Norman hadn't been home without some reason. And besides that, Birch knew how much Norman cared about his son, and how frustrated he was that they hadn't been seeing eye-to-eye lately.

"Uh, yes actually." Norman replied, surprised in his friend's accuracy. "How did you know?"

"May was here yesterday," the professor explained to Norman as he began walking his hose back into the shed, gesturing with his head for Norman to follow. "She said Brendan was in the area, and that he might stop by to have me look at his Pokédex."

"He didn't say a word about that to me this morning." But then again, Brendan didn't say much of anything at all to him, Norman thought. At least not after he shut down all conversation after the argument. That wasn't unusual, but it still made Norman unhappy.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," Birch said, attempting to console his friend. "He's at the age where he's not overly talkative to parents, isn't he? Those rebellious teenage years."

"Yeah…" Norman sighed. "But, at least your daughter communicates with you more than he does with me."

"May's always been like that." Birch shut the shed door and turned back to face Norman, who had followed him while they were conversing. "I guess she knows that her father needs a lot more attention and care, or else he won't be able to function!" Birch laughed and rubbed his head sheepishly.

Norman frowned. Maybe he needed some extra attention like that as well. But still, Norman knew himself well enough to know that if that help was offered, Norman would be uncomfortable and unable to process what to do. The biggest problem in Norman's life was his own stubbornness and obsession with perfection. Just then, Norman heard the beep of his Pokénav in his pocket, accompanied by the vibration of a caller. He looked up at his friend and excused himself, answering his phone.

"This is Norman," he said quickly. Birch watched as Norman had a short conversation with the person on the other line and plans for the afternoon were made. Norman answered the person on the other end of the call politely, but firmly, quickly replying to everything with a tone of stern authority. "Yes, yes. Tell them I will be there as soon as possible. Serve them tea if they ask, there should be a good number of different types in the kitchen cabinet after the order we put in last month. No, the top right one. Yes, above the sink. Thank you, Berke." The call ended hastily, and Norman flipped the phone shut with a look of mild irritation, his frustration not directed at the caller, but at the situation seeming to call him away.

"Is that work?" Birch asked.

"Yeah, that was Berke." Norman answered, referring to one of his longest tenured gym trainers and one of the two young adults that helped run the gym when Norman was away, however rare that tended to be. "He says I have a challenger."

"Go on then, we can talk when you're done. That is, if you're available." Birch looked at his friend, who already seemed to be switching into work mode, internally going over all the necessities for the battle, if he needed to do anything else while he stopped at work, as well as most likely creating a rough time table for the afternoon. Norman always liked to head into everything he did with some type of plan, and became anxious when he was unable to do so.

"Really?" Norman looked at Birch with a look of surprise for some reason, his head turning quickly as his whole body moved in precise, fast movements. He was upset he had to cut the conversation short, and seemed very eager at the chance to meet up again later, but was already becoming deep in his own thoughts.

"Sure! Now hurry up, I know you hate to keep people waiting." Birch leaned forward to give the man a friendly hug. Norman's body, which had tensed as soon as he had switched gears moments ago, relaxed at the touch, savoring it. Norman closed his eyes and breathed deeply, clearing his mind and focusing on the comfort of Birch's reassuring grip, which engulfed Norman's smaller body in its warm and soft frame. Norman held the breath in his chest, and then exhaled it out slowly through his nose. The two held their positions for a moment, and then the bigger man released Norman, who was noticeably more relaxed and focused at the same time.

"Thanks," Norman said, quickly turning to leave. With most people, Norman was not inclined to be overly physical. In fact, he had been called cold and uncaring by an ex when he was a teenager for not being physical enough in his affections. But Birch was the opposite, and for some reason Norman never minded it. In fact, it often helped calm him down. The gym leader trotted back over to his own yard, which had a bike propped up against the side of the house. It was Norman's, and it was silver and kept in pristine condition. With 24 speeds, front and rear lights, and a stand to prop in his Pokénav to utilize its Bluetooth feature while biking, it was Norman's preferred form of transport. Throwing one leg over the seat, Norman hopped onto the cushioned seat, but he paused, and spun his head around to face Birch once more, who was still standing in his own yard. "Oh, and, can you do something for me?"

"Yeah, of course."

"If…if Brendan does stop by, can you ask him to see me before he leaves? I want to talk to him one more time."

"No problem!" Birch promised. And with that, Norman put on his helmet and fastened the buckle with a click, and began pedaling out of town.

Norman ended up having a busier day than expected. After his first challenger, he had a second, and after that battle, he had decided it was time to fix the minor damages on the outside of the building. His three gym trainers who were there that day offered to help, and the task was completed fairly quickly. Also the finances, which he thought were balanced, were showing small errors in the bookkeeping, and even after that, apparently a Pokémon got loose and needed to be pacified. Norman spent the afternoon putting fire after fire out, each time watching it grow later and later. Normally, the man liked getting absorbed into his work, but today he wanted to try to discuss things with Brendan again, and try to smooth the morning's conversation over with his son. It was by no means the first, and most likely not the last argument the two would have, but for some reason it was just making Norman antsy and he couldn't quite pinpoint why. Was it that Brendan seemed to be getting slowly sparser with communication? Was it jealousy that Professor Birch seemed to have a better relationship with his daughter than Norman did with Brendan? Norman hoped it wasn't the latter, because that made him feel guilty. He wanted Birch to be happy, he didn't want to be jealous over his friend's situation. Norman was sure that Birch was having the same difficulty that he was having, since both men had their only children leaving the house on their own for the first time. Norman just had a bad habit of overanalyzing everything. Every bad discussion he had with Brendan, every piece of information Brendan didn't tell him, it all made Norman worry that he was losing yet another relationship he had with people he cared about. And then there was Birch himself. Norman had only rekindled their friendship a few years ago. Sure, it seemed like everything was going swimmingly, but the normal-type gym leader had a habit of isolating himself and he was fully aware of it. While Birch was a kind and understanding friend, Norman worried that their relationship would suffer. He hoped it was just another case of stress and overthinking everything, but that still didn't pacify Norman's feelings.

Thinking of Birch, Norman looked at the bag sitting on his desk. It had Birch's lab coat inside, that Norman hadn't had time to give him or even mention it during their conversation, and he had ended up bringing it with him to the gym without thinking. It was the entire point of his waving down his friend earlier, though Norman enjoyed just speaking with the man as well. At least it gave Norman a reason to see Professor Birch again. Birch had said to stop by after work if Norman wanted to, and Norman hoped he meant it. Norman was feeling tense and lonely, which had become an all too familiar feeling, and he could use the quiet socialization with his best friend. Glancing at the clock, the possibility of seeing Birch again helped him continue to push through and finish his chaotic work day.

Eventually the hours passed, and morning became afternoon, and afternoon bled into evening. Norman had called his wife, telling her he wouldn't be home for dinner due to work. She didn't complain, she never did, but Norman still felt guilty leaving her alone again. But before too long, the work did end, and Norman closed the gym for the evening. Looking into the sky, Norman saw that the sun was getting ready to set before too much longer. Brendan had said that he wouldn't be around for dinner, so he most likely had already left. Norman had asked Professor Birch to delay the boy so Norman could converse with him, but that was many hours ago, and most likely even if Brendan had agreed to wait, the offer would've already expired. But Brendan hadn't shown up at the gym either, meaning maybe he hadn't made his way in that direction from Littleroot yet. With that hope, Norman took off in a swift jog home.

It didn't take too long for Norman to make his way home. The towns of Petalburg, Oldale, and Littleroot weren't too far apart. If you were to follow the main roads, it would be roughly 8-9 miles between Petalburg and Littleroot, passing through Oldale on the way. But Norman had been making the footpath commute for several years, and as such was aware of all the shortcuts through back roads and the small parts of the nearby parks that had paved walking paths that let Norman cut through them. All of these things taken into account, Norman could cut down the mileage to about 6-7. Norman was in fantastic shape, and as such was able to comfortably bike that distance in 40 minutes or so. The frequent trips were both a workout to ensure he stayed fit, and helped him travel places quickly due to the constant training. However, since the man was in a rush, he spent the entire ride pedaling vigorously and tirelessly, cutting his already good time down even more. It was very arduous and draining, and Norman was fairly soaked in sweat by the time he arrived at Littleroot's entrance. Normally he would go straight into his house for a shower, but, hoping to catch his son, Norman instead went immediately to his neighbor's house, propping his bike up on the siding of the building. He was greeted at the door by Professor Birch.

"Hey Norman!" He said while standing in the doorway, looking at his sweaty and moderately panting friend. "Wow, you're drenched. Are you okay?"

"Is Brendan still here?" Norman asked, in between short breaths and leaning on the house for support. His satchel was draped across his shoulder and resting on his back, and his usual track suit tied around his waist by its sleeves. He looked inside at what small pieces of the entryway weren't blocked from view by Professor Birch's large frame.

"I'm sorry, but he left hours ago." Birch apologized hesitantly, looking behind him at his empty hallway. "But still, come inside, you must be tired."

Professor Birch moved aside, and gestured for the soaked gym leader to enter the house. Norman paused, unsurprised but still disappointed.

"O-oh…alright…" Norman paused for a moment, but then sheepishly obliged the offer and stepped inside. Birch closed the door behind his friend and the two began making their way to the kitchen. It was a cozy little house, albeit minimally decorated. Norman had been in it many times the past several years, and knew the layout of the home by heart. He looked at the living room, which sat a decently sized paisley print couch, one that could pull out into a bed. On each side of the couch was a small end table, one of which had a brass lamp. On the other side of each small table were two moderately sized lounge chairs, one on each side of the room. One of them had a folding table in front of it and what looked like the remnants of a mostly finished TV dinner. The television was on, playing some show Norman didn't recognize. Birch grabbed the remote sitting nearby and turned the television off before making his way down the hallway and into the kitchen, where Norman followed him.

"I asked him to wait for you," the Pokémon professor said, attempting to console his friend. "But he said he was in too much of a hurry. Do you want to try to call him on his Pokénav?"

"That's okay," Norman answered dejectedly. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, his hand resting on the wooden dinner table. This room was painted light blue and had white tiled floors. Birch made his way over to the nearby pantry and sink, leaning on the wooden countertop that almost matched the color of the table. The sink had dishes from most likely breakfast and lunch inside, but none from the day before. "I didn't have anything of too much importance to say to him, I just wanted to see him off and say a few things."

"I'm sure you'll see him again before too long. Brendan is usually good at contacting you at least once or twice a week, right?" Birch reached into a nearby cabinet for a glass. "Do you want something to drink? You must be thirsty after the commute."

"I'd rather have a beer, honestly." Norman responded flatly, and then was surprised at himself. He drank intermittently, but only really a few times a month on average, and not usually too much at one time. But the day had made him tired, and he was upset that he missed seeing his son off. And while Norman wasn't always a man to help swallow his sorrows with the taste of alcohol, tonight felt like a good night to do so. "If that's all right with you, that is."

"Sure, but drink this first. You have to be dehydrated after sweating so much, and beer only dehydrates you more." Birch instructed, his back to Norman as he filled the glass in his hand with tap water. He walked over to Norman and placed it on the table.

"Thanks," Norman replied, grasping the cool glass and bringing it to his lips. The water felt incredibly refreshing on his lips and throat, which he hadn't noticed were as dry as they were from the exertion and panting. The man chugged the drink quickly, feeling better as the liquid rushed down his esophagus, cooling his body from the inside.

"No problem," Birch said, moving to the refrigerator and taking two cans from inside it. He walked back to the table where Norman was standing, his cup already empty. Birch placed one in front of Norman, and then pulled back the chair on the opposite side of the table, taking a seat.

"Sit down," Birch continued, pressing on the tab of the can to crack it open, followed by the small fizz as the air rushed out of the container. "You don't normally ask me to drink with you unless you have something to talk about, or you need to have a good time. So, which is it? You okay?"

Norman seated himself in his chair, looking down at his beer, and then back up at Birch. Professor Birch was right, he did have a lot on his mind, but how much did Norman feel comfortable burdening him with? Norman hadn't told his friend about his marriage problems, and had only sparingly mentioned that he was worried about his relationship with Brendan. Though Norman was sure Birch knew something was wrong with him lately, Norman was afraid of worrying his friend needlessly. And although he may not acknowledge it, the man was also afraid of being too vulnerable by opening up too much. Especially since Birch was also the subject of a lot of conflicting emotions Norman was currently fighting with.

"It's nothing," Norman said dismissively, taking a sip of his beer.

"Now you know I know you better than that," Birch retorted, continuing to gently probe his guest. Norman gave him a tired gaze and sighed.

"Yeah, you do know me," Norman exhaled, too tired to keep up any front to his best friend, who only wanted to help. He took another swig of alcohol, collecting his thoughts as he tasted the sour liquid.

"So why don't you talk to me a little. You bottle things up so much, it's not healthy. Everyone has to vent sometimes."

Norman looked hesitantly at the man sitting across from him. He paused, debating how much information he wanted to divulge. With one last gulp, he lowered his hand and sat the beverage down on the wooden table.

"How much time do you have?" Norman asked.

"As much time as you need."

End of Chapter 02: Empty Nest Syndrome

A/N: Finally, Chapter 2! I'm sorry this took so long, but I had a lot of issues come up in my life. It's all fine though, life is good. Stressful and busy, but good.

I also had a lot of debating over how I wanted this story to go, where exactly I wanted to take it, and (maybe) most importantly, how graphic I wanted to get. This started off as an indulgent little piece based on things I was into and characters I was disappointed were never written about in fanfiction, at least to my knowledge. I always debated making this an actual series, but when you start off blowing your load (quite literally) how do you go from there? What balance of story and smut do you try to find? That took me a while to decide. For all of you who came for the porn, don't worry there will be more, and it will eventually get more explicit. If you want to fast forward to the porn and nothing else, I will always list things like that in the beginning of the chapter. But I also wanted to tell a story, which involves taking time to do chapters like this that are just a lot of talking. I loved writing this though!

Birch is...slowly becoming reminiscent of an old friend of mine as I write. Which is weird for me, because I am not romantically interested in this friend. I sure love Professor Birch, though!

As for what continuity I'm following, well, its kind of an eclectic mix? Some from the games, some from the manga, some from the anime. Brendan being Norman's son is solely due to the fact that I am male, and when I played the games I played as a boy so Norman was Brendan's father in that case. Also no Max because, again, not in the games. I tend to refer heavier to the game continuity, but really it's whatever I feel like writing it as.