Author's Notes
Here's Chapter 9.

I'm sure that numerous fanfic authors have used the concept of trainers using pokémon powers. I give them a name in this fic, something I'll be using all throughout. You could say that it's my own take on an idea that some writers are bound to use in their fics.

With that done, on with the show!

Oh, and I don't own pokémon. Please don't sue me, I don't have a single centavo. :D

- x x x -

CHAPTER 9

When Skye entered the room he shared with Wade, he was immediately alarmed. Facing away from him and staring towards the window was the brown-haired youth, slumped against the side of his bed with his hair still wet and a towel carelessly swathed over his shoulders. He was shirtless, with only a pair of light blue pajama pants clothing him.

The last time he had seen him like this was six and a half years ago. For several months after they had taken him in, Skye had often found the other like this, unspeaking, unmoving, unseeing, as if the world had deprived him of a reason for life. It had taken his and his father's combined efforts to snap him out of it. He spotted the box of food on the cabinet to his left, and his alarm rose to new heights. Not good, he hadn't touched it at all!

Skye walked towards Wade's bed and climbed on it. He placed the paper bag he was carrying on one of the pillows and took a comfortable position behind Wade. Taking the towel on the other's shoulders, he gently rubbed it on his hair, just like he did all those years ago whenever he found him like this. When Wade didn't resist, he continued with a little more confidence.

"You'll catch a cold," he said, his voice slightly above a whisper. When Wade didn't answer, he proceeded to tell him what had happened, still in that quiet voice. "I modified Mr. Higgins's memory so he won't go flapping his tongue to Officer Malone and blab about anything that might lead to us. Then I rigged everything so that anyone looking into the Mudhouse would think that those goons had argued so bad that they knocked each other out.

"The police are probably still puzzled about how to return the stolen goods to the right salesmen. I really wouldn't be surprised if those dealers claimed a few more stolen pokémon to increase their chances for profit." Skye chuckled. "The thugs are a laughingstock; people are still joking about how their own disagreements landed them in jail—"

"Will you shut up?"

The towel stopped moving.

"How in the world am I supposed to say I'm sorry if you keep gabbing there all night?" Wade muttered.

It took a while before Skye found his voice. "You don't have to say anything," he said as he resumed drying Wade's hair. "I got enough from what that chubby chef was saying."

"Either way, that doesn't excuse the fact that I acted like a complete jerk."

Skye was tempted to remark, "But isn't that your usual disposition?" but wisely decided against it.

"You were right. They… they aren't worth soiling my hands over."

"But you had every right to be angry, Wade," said Skye; he wanted to make sure that that was clear. "I know I'd be squashing that obese lunkhead if he'd dissed my mom."

Wade laughed softly. "What, you'd blow him away with that fancy thing you did out there in the plains? Give me a break."

Skye was stunned. Not at the fact that Wade had brushed aside his Flying powers as if he saw those kinds of things everyday, no, nothing as historic or earth-shaking as that.

For the first time in his life, he heard Wade genuinely laugh.

"Skye?"

"… Huh?"

"… Are you angry? … I really am sorry."

He's scary when he's like this… Skye dropped the towel, reached for the paper bag on the pillow, and brought out three transparent boxes. He handed the one with the vanilla chiffon to him.

Wade turned and regarded him with wide eyes.

"You kept looking at those cakes that were being displayed at The Great Gardevoir," Skye said with a shrug. "I never pinned you as the type to have a sweet tooth, but well, apparently you do have one. I got that vanilla chiffon, a chocolate strawberry mousse, and a blueberry cheesecake." He carefully disassembled the box holding a palm-sized treat that, although covered outside with brown icing, contained a strawberry-filled promise inside. "You could say it's my way of apologizing for… for getting in the way." He hoped that Wade hadn't detected that nervous tremor in his voice.

Wade reached for one of the plastic forks in the paper bag and tasted the mousse. He smoothed the fork against the chocolate icing and licked it off. Afterwards, he glanced at the box of spiced chicken on the cabinet.

"There's something I want to give you."

Skye hadn't noticed, but there was a pokéball beside that box of food. It floated slowly toward him and fell on his lap.

"What's this?"

He received Wade's trademark annoyed look. "Do you have to ask that every time I give you something?" The other turned back to gaze at the window. "Open it."

Skye smiled. He couldn't believe that this was happening. "You didn't have to do this."

"Will you just pop it open already?" Wade growled.

Skye swallowed. "Right."

He released the pokémon inside, and what he saw took his breath away. An adorable, cotton-winged, blue bird that could have been mistaken as a stuffed prize at the carnival peeped inquisitively at him. He gingerly raised it up in the air like a trophy and made appreciative noises. It then flapped up to his head and ensconced itself in his hair.

"It's so cute! Thanks Wade!"

Wade observed the Swablu a little longer. He set the mousse on the floor beside him and returned to gazing out the window. "That's my way of saying sorry."

Skye was tired; his brain felt like goo and every muscle in his body screamed for rest. He had expected a tense and awkward encounter when he came back home from the Mudhouse, something that would be aggravated by his exhaustion. He had imagined all kinds of scenes in his head where he apologized to Wade for being intrusive in his affairs, and where he promised that he'd give him his space and maintain an appropriate distance.

Things had a funny way of turning everything topsy-turvy, it seemed.

"Skye?"

"Yup?"

A pause. "… Did you really call the wind?"

- x x x -

Skye was silent for so long that Wade thought that he hadn't heard the question. Waiting for an answer and not in any hurry to get one, Wade levitated the box of spiced chicken into his hands and removed the cover. But he didn't touch the aromatic morsels; he simply picked at them with the same fork he used for the chocolate-strawberry mousse.

Is it really that uncomfortable to talk about for him? he thought to himself. Must be the reason why he was taking so long to reply. If this was his secret… Then it only made sense to divulge his own, didn't it? So that the trade would be fair. And since he was the one who had asked Skye, perhaps he ought to take the initiative.

Here goes nothing…

"My mother was a barmaid," Wade began softly. "Her name was Analyn Kellison Mody. As for my father… you've met his henchmen. He's the leader of a syndicate named after him. Quodo Consable."

"Wade—" There was an unexpected gentleness in the other's voice. Wade felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. "There's no need for this."

He went on, anyway. It was hard to stop, and it wasn't long before the full story came out. How Wade had been raised by his morally strong mother, and how he had been ill-treated by his morally weak father. How his mother had died, and how his father had tried to subvert him to his dishonest ways as the leader of a group of thieves. How he had eventually been forced out since his mother had taught him too well, kicked out by a man whom he had hoped would some day mend his ways. He told Skye the other stories, like about Jacobson's deception, about his first pokémon, and about his succeeding pokémon's pasts.

When he was finished, Wade had his knees against his chest and his arms tightly around his legs. The chicken lay untouched beside him; it was growing cold. He tried to steady his labored breathing, but he only succeeded in making himself lightheaded. Both of Skye's hands were on his bare shoulders. His ears caught a sound that he didn't recognize at first, and when he did he turned to look in disbelief at the other.

"Why… why are you crying?"

Skye rubbed his face with the back of his hand. "I can't help it. I guess… I guess I feel so bad for you."

The corner of Wade's mouth twitched towards a wry smile. "You're too nice."

"Things like that aren't meant to be carried by yourself," Skye managed between sniffs. "The world's just too wide and lonely a place for you to do that. I may never understand the things that you've gone through, but that doesn't mean I can't lend an ear to what's bothering you, right?"

"Quit blubbering," Wade said, though there was no bite in his tone. "Here." He floated one of Skye's pillows towards him so he could wipe his face. Though if he wanted to blow his nose on it, that was his problem.

He's really like this, I guess, Wade thought in wonder. There truly was kindness outside of his mother's in this world.

"Just a minute," Skye said. He leapt off the bed and dashed into the bathroom, where Wade heard him blow his nose and wash his face.

A few minutes later, Skye was back on the bed. His eyes were still a bit red, but at least they weren't leaking anymore. He closed them, and his forehead furrowed. Wade felt that something was going to happen.

A miniature column of air suddenly rose from his palm. Wade edged closer until his nose touched Skye's fingers. It did look like a Gust attack!

"You know how psychics can do stuff that ordinary people can't, right?" Skye said. "Telekinesis, telepathy, empathy, clairvoyance, precog, retrocog, and all those. Well, there are a restricted number of psychics who can do something more. Some have an intrinsic link with a particular type of pokémon, and it enables them to use the techniques of and mentally communicate with the same type. An author, Miles Halliwell, happened to stumble across one such person who had a Fire affinity, though she wasn't able to get much data since the guy fled once he saw her. She coined up the term 'wielder' to refer to persons who could forge such bonds with a particular type of pokémon."

"So that explains why you can use Gust attacks?" Wade asked. "You… you have this link with Flying pokémon? Wait. Was that how you were able to speak to my Gyarados?"

Skye nodded. "The Flying type encompasses a lot of other types, not only birds."

"That must have been how you were able to track that Murkrow into the Mudhouse!"

"Right again."

Wade was getting worked up. "Just a minute. Why is it that I can do the same thing with my pokémon?"

All of Skye's attention was suddenly riveted to him. "What do you mean? You can use their attacks?"

"No. I mean, I can talk to them with my mind. It's not surprising for my Slowbro and Slowking since they're Psychic pokémon, but what about my Gyarados? The Horsea and Sneasel that I just got? How come I can hold perfectly normal conversations with them?"

"… I didn't know that."

"Well you do now, genius."

"I don't know. Go ask this Halliwell woman. Besides, it's not like you can bump into wielders across the street any time of the day. If you think psychics are rare, you got another thing coming with wielders." Skye abruptly peered at the box of spiced chicken then raised an eyebrow at Wade. "Hey, if you're not eating that, I'm taking it."

The box was instantly in Wade's protective fingers. "Touch it and I'll feed you to Gyarados." He quickly shoveled its contents into his mouth without a care if he choked.

"It's nice to know you're feeling better."

"Go kiss a Qwilfish," snapped Wade. Half of the box was already gone, but it had done little in satiating that gnawing sensation in his stomach. "Anyway, how'd you find out that you were a Flying wielder in the first place? You suddenly felt like playing with the weather or something?" When he saw Skye slicing the blueberry cheesecake into equal parts, his hand darted out to get it. "Hey, that's mine!"

Skye gaped at him. "You're not seriously considering finishing all three cakes tonight, right?"

"Why not?"

Skye shot him a disgusted look. "You must have been a Snorlax in your past life."

Wade pointed the fork at him. "Well? How'd you find out you were a wielder?"

Skye popped a chunk of blueberry cheesecake into Swablu's beak—the bird was still on Skye's head! Wade hoped that it laid an egg on him—before taking his own bite. "I met another wielder a little before I met you seven years ago."

"I thought you said that wielders are rare."

"I thought so too. But there he was in Coast Woods, yelling for help. I ran as fast as I could, expecting to come to his rescue, but it turned out that I would need rescuing, as well. The moment I got to where he was, there was this cloud of green dust around him. When I saw the unconscious forest pokémon around him, I realized that that green dust was a Sleep Powder. You could imagine my surprise when I saw that it was coming from his body."

"It was coming from him?" Wade repeated skeptically. "How sure were you that it didn't come from the pokémon living there? If I'm not mistaken there are Oddish that reside in Coast Woods."

"I didn't exactly have time to think about that," Skye answered. "Besides, the Sleep Powder was precariously heading my way, and by the time I realized that it was already too late. I had no chance of escape. The first thing that came to my mind was, I needed a gale to disperse that powder. I fanned at the dust, and out they came. Three Gust attacks."

"So you blew the Sleep Powder right back at the guy," said Wade, his tone flat. "Real smart."

Skye laughed nervously. "Uh… something like that. At least he stopped spewing that Sleep Powder, right?"

Wade rolled his eyes. "Then what?"

"I brought him home. Told Dad that he got sprayed by Sleep Powder from wild Oddish."

"Hmm…" That wasn't really far from the truth...

Skye fed Swablu another piece of cheesecake. "When he woke up, we talked. Telepathically, of course, since Dad was there fussing over him like an old grandma. I found out that that was the first time he had used the Grass technique. Kinda like me. We became friends after that."

"What's his name?"

"Guido Redspike. He and his folks live in Ochre."

Wade set the empty box on the floor beside him and started on the vanilla chiffon. The cake wasn't overpoweringly sweet, and he liked it that way. There was a hint of white chocolate in the icing, which he rolled around in his mouth with his tongue. "We're keeping all this stuff between us, right?"

"I think that would be best for now."

Wade buried the fork in the vanilla chiffon. "So this Guido trains pokémon?"

"Yup. Last time I saw he had a Jumpluff, a Ledian, and a Lombre. Basically pokémon you find around the island."

Wade's love for Water pokémon tugged at him. "Where'd he get the Lombre?"

"I think he caught it when it was still a Lotad in the oasis in Ochre. If I remember correctly there are also Poliwag living there."

Wade allowed a small smile to curve his lips. In the past seven years, the possibility of catching more pokémon had never crossed his mind. The reasons were vague memories that had accumulated over the years: too much brooding over the past, a lack of confidence that told him he could never do it, uncertainty about his future, and so many other explanations that had previously haunted him. Yet now, the very prospect of catching all those Water pokémon infused such an enthusiasm in him that he could barely wait for the next day. He wondered what had changed.

"We have store duty tomorrow at seven, right?" Skye said.

"So?"

Skye gently brought down Swablu from his head and scratched it under its beak. It cooed contentedly. "Feel like training our new team members before that?"

Wade collected the trash and stuffed them into the paper bag on his bed. "Only if you can wake up at five."

Skye grinned. "You know me all too well."

"Though it won't really be a problem if you can't. I'll just have Slowbro wake you up with a Surf. And if that won't bring you up, Gyarados will be all too happy to bash you with an Aqua Tail." Skye just laughed at this.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" The long-haired blonde fished out two pokéballs from his pocket and enlarged them. "Remember the crates of Murkrow back in the tunnel?" He tossed one of the red and white spheres to Wade.

Wade inspected the pokéball and arched an eyebrow at the other. "You didn't."

Skye still had that insufferable grin. "You'd think that those blockheads would train them, but no. I returned the rest to the wild but kept these two. Figured we could train them into powerhouses. It'll be sweet showing those Consable goons how to properly train the pokémon they're so fond of using."

Wade had to admit, there were moments when Skye didn't act like an idiot. Unfortunately, such times were so few that they ought to be preserved in a safe for being so priceless.

"This one here's a special bird," said Skye, indicating the pokéball he was holding. "I was about to release it to the wild except that I recognized it as an old friend." Wade shot him a look that questioned his sanity, so he quickly elaborated. "It's the same Murkrow that stole my watch on that rainy day seven years ago."

Wade smirked. "Are you saying that it's that Murkrow's fault that I met a schmaltzy featherbrain like you? What a moron." He levitated the paper bag with the empty containers into the trash can then stood up. "Now get off my bed. If we're waking up early tomorrow to train, we better hit the sack."

"You want to sleep already?" Skye exclaimed incredulously. He hopped to his bed and fell inelegantly on the pillows. Chirping happily, Swablu fluttered back on its trainer's head. "But there's so much I want to know! Like why do you like Water and Dark pokémon so much? What's with you going gaga over those cakes? What levels are your pokémon? I'm guessing they're around the same as mine, in the fifties. Where'd you get your ear pierced? And since when did you find out that you were psychic?"

"You're supposed to be exhausted!" Wade snapped. "Go to sleep!"

"I don't wanna."

"Can you at least pretend to be sleeping? You're giving me a headache."

"Let me guess, you like that chocolate-strawberry mousse the best, am I right? Am I right?"

"No, I—"

"Where do you think we should eat breakfast tomorrow? I'm sure all that training will work up an appetite!"

Wade sighed. Why was Skye suddenly so animated? May as well humor the idiot. He dealt with the onslaught of inquiries with one answer at a time, though some of them required such lengthy elucidation that he lost track of the hours.

Before he knew it, it was well past midnight. So much for that rest.