Author's Note: quick note. the chapter title here is a small section of lyrics, taken from the song "Learning to Fly" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

b e s t l a i d p l a n s

I have some simple advice for you guys today. No matter what, you can always face any adversity with the right attitude.I kind of wish I would have followed that. I didn't know the kid that well, but... he was a friend. One of the few my quirky personality ever really made.I miss him.

I really do.

Chapter 10: Learning to Fly; and I ain't got wings... coming down is the hardest thing

"Falkner, I said I'm sorry! I- I didn't know... Ghos..."

"I know. I forgive you."

Christopher Avrich heard the words come out in that harsh, unforgiving tone and he knew immediately they weren't true. he wanted to believe them, but he couldn't, not for the life of him. And Falkner wasn't helping, stomping away from him.

Chris followed. They moved all the way to the gym in silence, before Falkner turned around and stared him in the eyes. He ut his hands on his shoulders, and Chris flinched as he came down hard on his injured arm. This goddamn thing would never heal at this rate.

"What's your name, newbie? I never got it."

"Chris.. Chris Avrich," he responded. He somewhat wanted to shrink back, run away and go back to New Bark, living out the rest of his life in shame... but he wasn't going to now. just because he wanted to didn't mean he could.

"C'mon inside, Chris."

The wo walked inside, and stoped in the shadowy spots of the gym. Falkner looked at Chris dead in the eyes again and spoke slowly, carefully, with just enough anger lingering in his calm voice that Chris shuddered. "Cris Avric, wat interests you about Pokemon Training?"

Silence quivered through the air, as Chris thought about that question. He thought and thought, thought some more and then thought even more. He had never thought so hard in his life. But after all that thought, his mind came up blank. "Because it seemed interesting. Because I thought it would be fun."

Falkner scoffed, shut his eyes and frowned. "Bland. Typical. I can feel it. It's deeper than that, and you know it."

Cris cocked an eyebrow. He thought it was a satisfactory answer. He didn't even know the point of this questioning, because he had just come to make sure Falkner knew he was sorry for the pain he had caused his Pidgeotto. What was the point of it? "Because... I, uh, like Bosca, I guess. And it seemed a good way to bond."

Falkner shook his head. "Then why not coordinate? Become a breeder? Just travel the land, or just stay at home?" Falkner opened his eyes and looked toward the platforms near the ceiling. "Anything can be done to bond with Pokemon. Fine. If that's your answer, I'm heading up. I don't care about your broken arm. If you want me to really believe your apology, and if you really want me to believe your reasoning, come u and find me at the end of the puzzle. no battles. Just you and Bosca traveling the gaps."

Chris looked up and felt his heart beat faster than he felt comfortable. Was it really a good idea? He had screwed with this whole idea before. But to try it again? With a broken arm, at that? He could hurt himself severely, be in a hospital for quite a few more weeks... and this wasn't even thinking about Bosca.

He stepped back, looked at Falkner and let a shaky grin cross his lips. "Sure."

Joey Collins looked out onto the lake in front of him, seeing the shadow of the man behind him and finding himself wondering how much longer he had left. He knew from the look on the man's face that he had come to kill him: even his nine year old mind could decipher such enigmatic eyes with the help of adrenaline.

"Hello, Joseph Collins." Cold metal was pressed against the back of his head. The force of the metallic shaft was soft- any steady pushes, and Joey would go off the bridge. So he did not intend to do it quite yet, Joey deduced."Hi. Who are you?" Joey asked slowly. He had once heard raw terror was paralyzing: he knew it now to be untrue. Perhaps it was for some individuals, but not for him. It motivated his mind to move, his muscles to think. He wanted to take action, but he knew it would kill him.

"My name? David," the man said.

"Hasselhoff?" Joey asked.

"Ha!" From the reflection in the water, Joey could barely see the smile cross his lips. His breath was rotten. "Jokester, huh? I like that in a kid."
"Bad breath like that can definitely give someone the motivation," Joey said. "How often you brush your teeth?"

He heard a small click, and a push of air. His body went rigid for a moment, preparing for the impact of the bullet- but it never came.

"I like games, Joseph. Do you?"

Joey replied in a hushed whisper, "Not the type of games you're talking about."

"Russian Roulette is pretty fun, in my opinon." A thin crackle, then another click and a pulse of air. No bullet in that chamber, Joey thought.

"How about you play it yourself, instead of on me?" Joey asked.
"But that would be nowhere near as fun," David replied.

"What do you want?"

"Christopher Avrich."

Joey's heart skipped a beat. "Why are you here with me, then?"

"Because Christopher Avrich is a klutz," David mused. "If I don't give him... a bit of motivation, he'll never stop injuring himself. And of course, injured prey doesn't give a man half the thrill."

Click, click, poof.

"What did Chris do?"

"He decided to mess with the wrong person," David replied. "Adrian Russo, if you must be exact."

"Maybe, just maybe, Adrian can take that debt himself," Joey whispered.

Click, click- poof.

"Adrian Russo is weak, but his connections are wonderful. So, guess what, Joseph Taylor Collins? Christopher Lawrence Avrich..."

Click.

"...will soon be a dead man."

Click, BLAM.

And with the loud sound of the gunshot, Joey Collins felt a large pulsation of panic and pain, before he felt no longer.

David Miller took a short glance at the corpse falling into the water. The back of his head was blown wide open, brain matter splattered across David's red shirt. He offered the corpse a quick salute, before leaping into the water and swimming up beside it. He would bring it up onto shore with some degree of difficulty, then remove something from his soaked pocket. He placed the badge on the back of the boy's neon green shirt, then removed his own. He was somewhat glad Azalea Town laws permitted men walking around shirtless. He tossed the bloodied thing into the water, pocketed his silenced pistol and before he could be seen, walked off, whistling casually and wearing a devilish smile on his face.

Christopher Avrich felt an odd sense of sadness move through his body, but ignored it. He could not afford to be distracted right now, with Bosca hanging limply from his pants leg, teeth clenched in order to hold her position; his own hand held up on the final rail, supporting himself and Bosca's weight the best he could. Final rail, he thought to himself- he swung his legs forward, hoping Bosca could hold on, trying to gain momentum, and the plan worked. With one last grunt, he let himself go loose and land roughly on the last platform, tumbling down to the ground and onto his arm. He cried out in pain, and the disorienting sensation nearly blacked him out. But a hand on his good shoulder shook him out of this trancelike state, and he looked up to see it- a firm face, blue strands of hair hiding his eyes. He stood up, and Chris followed suite. He recgonized him vaguely as Falkner.

"...I-...I made it," he muttered.

"You did. I'm impressed. So, Mister Avrich, I have a proposition for you."

"What would that be...?"

"You have th e brave spirit of a Pidgeot, and the heart of a golden-feathered Fearow. You genuinely care for Pokemon, it seems," Falkner said. A smile crossed his lips. "Any old trainer would use the move and while probably feeling guilty, just go along their way. You came to apologize and make sure that I knew you were genuine. I now know you are."

Chris allowed a weak smile tocross his lips, still dizzy from the pain of the fall. "Okay, but what does that have to do with a proposition?"

"I'd like to try and help you become stronger. There were many flaws in your fight- many of which I think I can help you perfect. What do you say, Chris?"

Chris thought about it for a moment, then let his grin grow wider. His neck moved- from side to side, disapproving. "...I gotta admit I'm kinda honored. Not every day a kid from a small town like me gets an offer like this, huh?" Chris laughed softly. "...But no thanks. Gettin' strong's my own goal- me, Bosca, and possibly even Ghos will do it together."

Falkner stared at him for a little while. Chris supposed he had not expected the denial. Finally, Falkner opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a steady ringing. Chris let his good arm slip into his pocket to see a call from- Joey's number. Huh.

"Sorry, Falkner, can I take this?"

"...R-...right. Sure."

Chris nodded and said his thanks before turning around and pressing his Pokegear to his ear."Hello?"

It was a voice he didn't quite recognize. "Is this Christopher Lawrence Avrich?"

"...Uh, yes," Chris responded.

"Give me proof. Your mother's name and your home town."

"...Who is this?"

"Do it," the voice said. It was stern and forceful, slightly intimidating Chris.

"...Elizabeth, and New Bark Town."

A slight pause, and a soft laugh. It sent shivers down Chris's spine."Hello, Chris. Do you like games?"

"...Who is this?"

"I like games, Chris. I played one with your friend Joey," the voice said, sinister tones leaking from his voice. Chris's heart skipped a beat.

"Oh? And... h-how did it go?"

"He lost, I'm afraid to say. Russian Roulette is a rather... dangerous game, wouldn't you think?"

Chris knew, then. He knew all too well what was going on, and anger quickly flowed through his mind. "Who are you? What have you done with Joey?"

"Messing with Team Rocket doesn't tend to end well, Chris," the voice responded.

"I never-...the boy! Why... why I oughta..."

Adrenaline flowed through his veins like he had never felt it before. His anger could only rise to a certain point before it blew."The Azalea Town Police Department probably had a call recently, Christopher Avrich. It was a call reporting the body of a nine-year-old, his precious Rattata's Pokeball floating next to him. More than likely drowned. The boy..." A small pause, the sickening sound of the man's breath increasing in pace. "Well, the boy was shot in the back of the head. No DNA on the body, either. Pretty unsolvable case- but guess what, Chris?"

Chris clenched his fist around his Pokegear, and heard a question come from Falkner- but it was all a blur to him. He did not respond to the man.

"I can give you the culprit. It was me. Joseph Taylor Collins was murdered, not even an hour ago, by a sir David Miller, hired assassin of Team Rocket. You are to heal up, then come find me. If any mention of this goes out to the authorities, I will go after your mother, next. Understood, Chris?"

"...Fuck you," Chris whispered.

"Oh, but that will be hard for a dead man to do, won't it? I'll be waiting for you in Goldenrod City."

click.

Christopher Avrich threw his Pokegear down to the ground, hearing a small crack, but drowning it out in his own sad, angry scream. Bosca ran over to his side to see what was wrong, but he ignored her- and Falkner's worried tone was a monotonous, mechanical and nonsensical jumble of sounds. All Christopher Avrich knew was that Joey Collins was dead. A mother would be without her son, and the world without a precious life- and most of all, the most unbearable of all, he knew that it was all his fault.