Disclaimer: Pokémon and its related properties are copyrighted to The Pokémon Company and Nintendo, respectively.

A Yearning for the Mud
Chapter Thirty Four – Bad Guy

For love would be love for the wrong thing – T.S. Eliot

In the waning days of autumn, snow fell on Lumiose City, blanketing the stone streets and allowing citizens and trainers to leave prints behind as they traveled the metropolis. Heavy foot traffic left the walkway outside the Pearce townhouse with a cluster of prints and dark snow as men and women with cameras and microphones paced around the property. Their devices pointed toward the house, unwilling to miss even a chance at catching a glimpse of the occupants inside.

Despite the flurry of attention the Pearce townhouse received outside, the interior was quiet, the only noise came from the kitchen as Wallace clicked his spoon against a glass bowl as he finished his third bowl of cereal for the day, his milk a galaxy of cinnamon and sugar. Letting his spoon sink below the milk line, Wallace grabbed a remote beside him and turned up the volume on the television mounted on the opposite wall above a row of cabinets.

A television studio flashed on-screen behind a news report logo that faded to reveal a redheaded reporter standing in the studio. "Nearly a month has passed and people are still searching for answers regarding the firestorm of controversy and confusion that has surrounded Wallace Pearce following the discovery of Arlan Pearce, dead, outside Geosenge, last month, of an apparent house fire," the woman said as a box expanded by her head.

Wallace watched a clip of the Marine Snow Cabin grounds taken following the fire he started, the grass scorched black and several of the cabins standing only as charred husks.

"The investigation into Arlan's death has officially been closed by police and Wallace Pearce, interim CEO of Pearce Productions had only this to say recently."

The box expanded again, overtaking the reporter as a video of a swarm of paparazzi and reporters followed Wallace down the streets of Lumiose, his townhouse growing near in the distance. A maroon scarf whipped away from Wallace's neck as he held elgyem to his shoulder and a bundled up Wink snapped at a reporter's microphone who got too close.

"What do you have to say about your father's death? Do you believe it was an accident?"

"Is it true he was harboring Andrew Gates?"

"What does this mean for Pearce Productions? How long do you plan to hold onto the company?"

"What role did Andrew's father play in all this?"

Wallace brought his cereal bowl to his mouth and slurped down the milk and cereal bits that remained as he watched himself climb the snow-covered steps of his townhouse and partially vanish inside. "My father did play a role in Andrew's disappearance from the public eye and I'm sorry for all the trouble he caused. I don't know who would want my father dead, but I am saddened by his death, thank you."

Wallace watched as the door shut the reporters swarmed on it, their camera flashes lighting up the front door before the video vanished and the redhead appeared back on screen. Wallace was quick to mute her and slide his empty bowl across the counter, sighing. "My voice doesn't really sound like that, does it?"

A series of high tone beeps came from the adjacent edge of the counter were elgyem held a food bowl between his legs, levitating pellets of his breakfast in orbit around himself. His eyes were closed and his hands pressed to his face as he seemed to laugh.

"Let's go check on them," Wallace said, sliding off the bar stool and dragging his hand along the counter for elgyem.

The psychic-type left behind his bowl of food, though dozens of pellets circled him as he walked up Wallace's arm and to his shoulder. Together they left the kitchen and rounded the entry to bound up the steps where they stopped outside Wallace's room.

With the door cracked, Wallace peered inside and found Andrew sitting on the edge of his bed while Antionette sat on the floor in front of him, using her hands as she spoke. Glancing across his room, his eyes fell onto a mountain of clothes that had gathered over the last month. Despite Carrie's wishes to see Andrew and to take him home, Wallace kept Andrew locked inside, he and Antionette his only visitors as they worked to restore his memory.

The progress had been slow and grueling, identifying what Andrew could remember and running into roadblocks as specific memories seemed to be wiped clean by beheeyem's power. "How's it going?" he asked, putting very little weight on his door as he stepped inside.

Antoinette and Andrew turned his way, the latter less pleased to see him than the Kalos Champion was. "Not good," Antoinette said. "I can't seem to find the breakthrough point."

"Can I go home?" Andrew asked. "I don't want to stay here anymore, I want to see my dad."

Antoinette smiled as she got up and rubbed Andrew's shoulder. "I've been around a lot of psychic-types and I know what they're capable of, but this is different," she said as she moved toward Wallace, folding her arms. "Bringing someone back out of a trance shouldn't be this difficult, but Andrew's been under for three months."

"Did you get him to remember anything?" Wallace asked as he looked over his childhood friend who hung his head and fiddled with his fingers.

"No, he remembers the same stuff he's known all along, who his father is, who your father is, was," she said, quick to correct herself. "Um, but sometimes I can't tell if he's remembering stuff, or if I'm just asking the right questions about things he already knows. I feel like I've been walking in circles every day with him." Antionette palmed her face and sighed. "Hey, are you – "

"Am I okay?" Wallace fired back, his eyes darting to Antoinette for a second. The woman felt the need to bring the question up every time a mention of his father slipped out, her concern never failing to irritate him. "I'm fine and I don't want to talk about it, I just want to know if he'll ever be okay."

"I don't know," Antionette said. "I've tried everything I can think of. Week one we just talked, thinking he might stumble upon a memory of you, but it never happened. Then I tried showing him pictures of you, the two of you as kids, still nothing. I started showing him other things he might remember. Trying to jog his memory, seeing if there's some kind of loophole to what your father's beheeyem did, but I hit walls at every turn. He's really unresponsive and it's only getting worse the longer you keep him here. He wouldn't stop asking about your father today. I know the investigation is over, but are you going to explain what happened to him?"

"I don't really know how," Wallace said, bringing his shoulders to his ears, elgyem gripping his head. "It was in defense of me, but this Andrew, who doesn't know me, wouldn't understand that."

"I get it," Antionette sighed before she stared at the window. "Would you mind taking over for a bit? I'm needed at the League in an hour and it's going to take a good twenty minutes to ward off the reporters outside."

Wallace nodded and moved aside to allow Antoinette to leave, but rather than head for the steps, the woman paused and spun back to him. "I noticed some luggage packed in your father's room. I wasn't trying to snoop, but I was playing hide-and-seek with your spinarak, and stumbled into your father's bedroom. You planning a trip?"

Wallace pulled the door shut, his fingers hanging off the knob as he avoided Antoinette's eyes. "I was thinking of heading back to school," he said. "I talked to one of the administrators, they said I'm still technically enrolled. even though I've missed a month of classes, my professors are still allowing me to come back."

"You want to go back to school?" she asked. "What's the point?"

Wallace shrugged again. "I just feel like I have things left to do there." Wallace's eyes drifted from Antionette to a spot on the wall, his mind drifting further onto thoughts of a dark haired boy he'd left behind.

"If you say so," Antionette said as she threw her hands up and turned to the stairs. "I'll talk to you later, don't run away without saying goodbye."

Wallace watched her descend the stairs before he slid into his room. He eyed Andrew until the silence grew to be too much and he began pacing the edge of his room. On his dresser he found Andrew's Poké Balls, his team of six and the folded piece of paper from when they were kids that listed the kinds of pokémon they dreamed of training, both of which Antoinette had used as tools to jog his memory to no apparent avail. Beside them were a stack of pictures of he and Andrew from before Andrew left Kalos.

His eyes passed over different spots in his room where they used to play, but nothing stood out to him as truly memorable until his eyes fell on his desktop. "PokéView," he said as he ran a hand over his keyboard, waking the computer up. He opened the application and paused over the login screen. "Andrew, do you remember PokéView?"

"Yeah, I'm big on there," Andrew said, avoiding Wallace's eyes. "Why?"

"And you know who made it," Wallace said, leading him.

"Arlan Pearce," Andrew said, his voice dying out. "He's dead now, right? I hit him so hard it killed him."

"Andrew, focus." Wallace clenched his fists, unable to stop himself from sighing internally. "Arlan was my dad. I'm his son, my name is Wallace. Do you remember me?"

"Arlan didn't have kids," Andrew said. "He was never even married."

Wallace's hands slipped from his keyboard, Andrew's words delivering a direct blow to his gut that left him speechless. His father had only mentioned wiping him from Andrew's memory, not rewriting his own life to exclude him and his mother. Antionette had also failed to mention that, possibly for his benefit. "That hurt more than I thought it would," Wallace cleared his throat as he turned back to the computer and typed in Andrew's username and tried several passwords, his fingers shaking and mashing down random keys. "Do you remember your PokéView password?" he asked, still mulling over the idea his father chose to construct a life without him and his mother for Andrew to focus on.

"Why would I tell you, so you can hack me?" Andrew asked as he leaned back on the bed, his brows cocking. "You're starting to creep me out. The only reason I'm still here is because that totodile is wandering around somewhere and it looks like it wants to bite my foot off," Andrew said, wiggling his toes.

"Good boy, Wink," Wallace said as he tried several random passwords before elgyem drifted into his line of sight. "Elgy!"

"Eeeee?" Elgyem screeched.

Wallace gasped as he grabbed elgyem and moved to his bed, holding the psychic-type out like a gift. "You have to remember him."

"It's an elgyem, nothing special," Andrew said, shrugging. "And?"

Wallace thought he heard elgyem gasp as the little psychic-type crossed his arms, the red digits on his hands flashing.

Wallace groaned as he released elgyem who remained aloft as he dug around for his phone and launched the PokéView app, heading to Andrew's account. "Okay, how about this, some of your old videos." Wallace clicked a random video of Andrew traveling through Saffron City, but as he waited for it to load another thought occurred to him. "My father said he put you back on your adventure in your trance, so this should be someone you remember." Wallace swiped through his gallery until he reached a picture of Arlette that Neo had sent him months ago. "You remember her?" he asked, turning the phone to Andrew. "She was your girlfriend, do you remember her?"

"Not really," Andrew said, tipping his head from side to side. "She's cute though."

"Not really?" Wallace asked, unable to control the anger dripping from his voice. "What does that mean, not really? Either you do or you don't. Antionette worked with you for a month, did she ever mention her?"

"No, I don't know, I just – I think I remember meeting her," Andrew narrowed his eyes and kept tipping his head, as if seeing Arlette from a new angle would trigger a memory. "Asking her to do something for me, I don't know. I can't remember. Maybe, she is kind of familiar."

"You have to, you have to remember," Wallace said, easing down onto his knees and cupping the phone like a sacred offering to a high power. "You have to, because she's dead, okay? She's go – ne..." Wallace's arms shook and he nearly dropped his phone, the image of Arlette's face as she fell flashing through the meat of his brain. "She loved you and wanted to know what happened to you when you went away, but she died thinking you were dead. And now you're here and she's not, so you don't get to forget her. If you can't remember anyone else, I'll make you remember her, she deserves that much at least."

"You said she was my girlfriend, but it sounds like she was yours," Andrew said, grinning. "You sound hung up on her."

Wallace dropped his head and rolled his neck all the way around, looking over his room again. Suddenly he wished he hadn't torn up the pages of Arlette's diary, or knew where to find them online before he faced Andrew again. "Focus, you said you asked her to do something for you, what was it? A favor?"

Andrew scratched the side of his head, his eyes narrowing to slits again. "I think I gave her a pokémon for something, to breed for me, I think she was a breeder. Or was it to raise for me? No, no, I think... I think I wanted her to breed something." Andrew's head clicked to the right as his blue eyes fell back on elgyem who was sulking by the window after being referred to as nothing special. "Was it... Was it an elgyem?"

Elgyem turned and touched his hands to his chest, his red digits fading as the yellow ones lit up. "Em?"

"Okay, you had her breed an elgyem for you, but why?" Wallace dropped the phone and grabbed Andrew's hand the way a child takes their parent's hand in eagerness at a carnival.

"I think it was a gift," Andrew said, eyeing their hands together.

"Andrew, a gift, a gift for who?" Wallace asked, his voice growing in urgency as his hands shook.

"Uh, just someone, I don't know," Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose and started to wipe at his eyes, his features hardening as if the memories were physically draining to draw from.

"Who? Andrew, who are they? Boy, girl, who are they?" Wallace asked.

Andrew shrugged, tearing his hand out of Wallace's grasp as he shot from the bed. "I don't know! Why does it matter? Why can't I just go home?"

"if you were giving someone a gift you have to remember who it was," Wallace said. "You wouldn't give a gift to just anyone. Try and remember."

Andrew huffed air and paced the room, scratching at his head every few steps. "It's um, it's just some guy – he's... I don't know." Andrew paused and hung his head, pressing his fingers to his temples and working them in circles. "I was away, somewhere else, Unova I think. I was somewhere, I found an elgyem following me and I caught it, I didn't want it, so I sent it to the girl, Arlette, to breed for me."

"Okay," Wallace said. "What else do you remember? Who was the egg going to?"

"A friend, maybe, I guess? I don't know, if I was giving him a gift then yeah, he'd have to be a friend. I think," Andrew said, scratching the side of his head as he walked from the door to the window. "He wasn't with me in Unova, cause I could have just given him the elgyem, or bred it there. Arlette... was in... Kalos, and I think I wanted her to hang onto the egg until I came home. So the guy was here."

"Do you remember his name?" Wallace asked. "He was a friend, you were giving him a gift, you had your girlfriend breed a pokémon for him, an egg for your friend in Kalos, who was he?"

"Uh... His name, uh..." Andrew started pacing again in tight circles, his lips forming the word his mind seemed to struggle to put power behind before it fell from his lips. "Wallace?"

Wallace stammered for his reply, but came up blank. Nothing needed to be said as the sound of his name filled the room, it seemed like nothing he tried to focus on came to him clearly. A cry bubbled from Wallace's mouth as his face split into a grin. He fell back against his bed, his chest jumping with sobs as he covered his eyes.

"You okay dude?" Andrew asked. "You don't look so good."

Wallace nodded, aware he might look crazy, smiling while tears lined his face, unable to contain his laughter and sobs as he broke through.

Days passed around the townhouse, each day bringing with it a new memory that struck Andrew at random times. Passing Wallace in the hallway on the way back from the bathroom Andrew engaged him in a simple fist-bump-behind-the-back-slap handshake they created when they were six. While playing hide and seek from elgyem, Andrew chose to take shelter in the attic, the pull down string hidden behind a curtain he had no trouble finding. The following morning Andrew ordered takeout from a nearby bakery that had been a favorite of Wallace's, remembering his order from a decade in the past.

Antoinette visited them at night with food after the boys ate their way through Wallace's fridge and with her she brought news of the investigation surrounding Arlan's death. Although the word filling the street was arson, officially, that had been ruled out as the cause of death when the discovery of a blunt wound on the back of Arlan's head came to life. Though no suspect had been named as the bedroom interior had either burned to ash or melted beyond recognition.

Wallace recalled wiping down the lamp used to bludgeon his father, imagining it as a melted pool as a result of Milo's overheat in combination with the gas explosion. Wallace pushed back from his food, his stomach twisting because he felt peace in the fact his father's he death had gone so smooth.

"I'm not saying you're out of the woods yet, but it looks good," Antionette said as she leaned over the kitchen island. "This is still crazy, I can't believe you roped me into helping for a month, and you break through beheeyem's control in an hour," she said, eyeing Andrew who stuffed with face with pizza.

"You and Izumi are the only ones who knew both sides of everything," Wallace said, shrugging. Though he did feel bad for involving Antionette, knowing what her involvement could mean to her Champion status, things had gone better than he anticipated. "Speaking of, I need to call him, excuse me."

"You'reexcused," Andrew said, between a bite of his dinner, playfully kicking Wallace off his stool.

Wallace passed his team along with some of Andrew's pokémon eating near the exit to the kitchen as he climbed the steps and plopped down, dialing Izumi's number.

"Yellow!" Izumi answered cheerfully. "Wally, how goes things as maison de la mort?"

"Things are good," Wallace said, ignoring his dig. "My father was right, I was the link to Andrew's memory, Arlette too. Once we broke through that he started remembering things one after the other. It's almost like nothing happened. Antionette has been helping a lot, keeping him updated on things and keeping him calm."

"Have you talked to him about his father yet?" Izumi asked. "Or the murder of your father? I hate to be the dose of reality that breaks up the sweet fantasy you've got going on, but these are real problems."

"I told Charles that in exchange for keeping his name out of the news he had to stay away from Andrew," Wallace said, lowering his voice in the entryway. "Andrew remembers that night at my house, he came to talk to me about it the other day. He said he remembers hearing our fathers talking about killing him to keep their secrets. He doesn't want anything to do with Charles either."

"And what about your father?" Izumi said. "I've got to hand it to you, you know how to cover up a murder better than your old man could, but is Andrew as strong as you were to live with his guilt?"

"He did it to save me, but I think after we explained what my father did, he understood why we couldn't go to the police," Wallace said. "It's not pretty, or neat, or ideal, but it's what we've got to go on right now. Him remembering me helped too, he understands why he did what he did now."

"Sounds like you've got it all planned out," Izumi said, sighing. "So what's next? Take over your father's company and rule the world?"

"Actually," Wallace said, propping the phone between his ear and shoulder as he laid back on the steps. "I'm going to let Andrew take control of the company and I'm going back to school."

"Are you out of your mind? You must be, you must have hit your head." Izumi snapped. "You won, kid. You got Andrew back, alive, in one piece. There is no murder charge to pin either of you down. If anything does come to light the whole psychic trance thing is the perfect alibi because he can say he can't recall anything about when Arlan died. Wally, you stuck us all in your town car and drove us through hell, but somehow we all came out the other side unburned, well, most of us."

"You're right, but I left a lot behind at school," Wallace said, his mind wandering to the dark haired boy he left behind on the roof balcony. "I didn't think I'd get the chance to go back, so I didn't think about how I left everyone. There are unfinished things for me there."

"The Orphans?" Izumi asked.

"Yeah, them too," Wallace said. "That's another reason I can't have Charles around, he went to Sonai Enterprises to get back at my father. I can't trust him. But the Orphans are still out there at the school, doing who knows what since I left."

"Well, not like I've been paying close attention, but the school seems to be still standing. But I still think it's a bad idea, I'm telling you," Izumi said. "Wallace Peters died in that fire with your father. You can't be him anymore, you've got to be yourself and own up to every lie you ever told. Can you do that?"

"I have to try," Wallace said, shrugging his shoulders to his ear. "I owe myself that."

"Yeah, okay, well call me when you find yourself in the deep end unable to swim," Izumi said over the sound of a chair creaking in the background. "See ya, kid."

Wallace pressed his phone between his palms, staring ahead at the front door when Antionette came out from the kitchen, shrugging her coat on.

"I'm leaving for the night," she said. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine, thanks for stopping by." Wallace nodded and hummed at her. "I'm leaving for school tomorrow, so I just wanted to say bye, that's why I asked you to come by tonight."

Antionette forced a smile as she propped her hands on her hips. "A proper goodbye from Wallace, what a treat," she said as she crossed the entry and climbed the steps, falling over him as they embraced in a hug. "What a fine mess your life is, but somehow you're making it work."

"Can I ask why you decided to help me again?" Wallace asked.

"I didn't think you were a bad person when we were met, just a little lost," Antionette said as she backed up down the steps. "I wasn't really following the investigation into Andrew's disappearance and didn't really know what I was setting into motion when I went to the police. I was trying to help when I saw your picture on the news, but I think I did more harm than good. Really I'm surprised you called me to help with Andrew."

"Not too many people know the whole truth," Wallace said. "You were nice to me back then and you didn't even know me, I'm glad you did come when I called though."

"Of course!" Antionette said as she headed for the door. "See ya, kid."

Wallace waved as Antionette left, the faint flash of a camera lighting her up as she stepped outside. As the door clicked shut, Andrew's head popped out from the kitchen. "Yo," he said. "What are the plans for tonight?"

"I actually need to talk to you about something," Wallace said. "You said you remembered enrolling to Radix University, right?"

Andrew nodded as he came to stand at the base of the steps, leaning on the railing. "Yeah, I was pretty much ready to go, just had to pack. Why?"

"One thing I left out was that I actually ended up going there," Wallace said, the confession sounding as if he was trying to live Andrew's life in his absence. "It was kind of awful, but I was thinking about going back, soon, like tomorrow."

"Oh," Andrew's mouth turned down, a bit of light fading from eyes. "What am I supposed to do? I can't really go anywhere, there are reporters everywhere looking for me," he said, glancing over his shoulder to the door.

"Antionette will still come by and hang with you," Wallace said. "You've got my number, plus I have a friend in the city who worked for my father, maybe you and him can start hanging out? His name is Jason. I can't really think about taking over my father's company, but I think you could do it. Jason can help you."

"Kind of feels like you're ditching me for your other life," Andrew said, turning his eyes to a spot on the steps.

"It's not that, I just have unfinished things there, but if you really want to come with me talk to the school and come for the spring semester," Wallace said. "Everyone there loves you already, it'll be a breeze."

"I guess," Andrew said, shrugging. "Though, I only wanted to go there to hide from your dad and because of – Arlette, but neither of those is a factor anymore."

Wallace tried to offer his friend a smile, though it faltered the moment his lips began to curl. In the days following Andrew fully remembering Arlette came the explanations of how she'd died, though Wallace chose to omit his presence at the school at the time and his role that drove her to the rooftop. "I'm sorry," he offered, wondering if Andrew would put two and two together.

"I know," Andrew said, shrugging. "I just feel stuck, like I want to do so much to make up for the months I lost, but the most important things don't matter anymore, or they're not around to matter. My father jeopardized everything by stealing money, your dad tried to protect him, my girlfriend took her own life, and I'm just... here. It feels like everyone's life went down a spiral because they thought I was dead and now I'm here, but the damage is done, you know?"

"I get it," Wallace said. "I get it more than you know."

"Huh?"

Wallace smiled and shook his head. "I'll tell you another time."

The following morning, opting to let Andrew sleep, Wallace gathered his team and his luggage in the foyer of the townhouse. "Maybe I should come back for the luggage," he said, kicking the side of a black trunk filled with clothes. "I came to school with just a duffel bag, it's going to be weird to bring all my stuff now."

Wink stalked around a pair of standing totes, snapping his jaws before Wallace grabbed him. "Time to get dressed," he said as he brandished a puffy jacket he ordered online for Wink.

"Totototo!" The totodile thrashed and screeched as Wallace slipped his limbs into the jacket and zipped him up. The fabric was dark purple and made Wink look twice his size, but covered most of his scales as Wallace flipped up the hood that fell over Wink's eyes.

"Elgy, ready to take us back?"

Elgyem slid down Wallace's shoulder and fell onto the cushion of Wink's jacket before he shone with purple light and the clean tile of the foyer vanished. Wallace watched the muted colors swirl and come to life with dusty greys and pale blues as he appeared on a beach.

Water lapped the heels of his boots as he stood at the water's edge where the bay water touched the shore, melting the snow, giving the snowfall a curvy border against the sand. Wallace brought his shoulders up against a stiff wind from the water as elgyem climbed back to his shoulder and he held Wink close and he started up from the beach toward campus.

Campus under a layer of ice and snow was a beautiful sight. As Wallace passing the iron archway, he walked down the walkway where machop were tossing handfuls of salt out to melt the ice. The squares of grass that dotted campus between buildings and paths were replaced by plains of undisturbed snow and the occasional snowman.

As he passed the fountains, the water shut off and the grey stone blanketed with snow, Wallace took note of the silence that filled the school grounds. Despite there being no classes on Sunday, he hadn't seen a single person moving between buildings in a bundle of winter apparel. No flying-types circled over the buildings and aside from pokémon completing tasks like spreading salt and shoveling snow, the campus was dead.

As he approached the ICO, Wallace's steps slowed. He looked over the snow covered stones of the Bellerose Courtyard, most of the flowers untouched by snow due to the trees above as he approached the golden plague. He brushed away the snow, clearing off Arlette's dedication as he hovered over it. "To kindness and grace in the face of adversity, a dedication to the life and studies of Arlette Bellerose," Wallace read, his gloved hand gripped the edge of the plaque.

A cloud of his breath filled the air before him as he sighed and left the courtyard, heading for the steps. Wallace flashed his wallet, his ID inside, before he entered and felt the welcoming heat of the ICO lobby. Like the grounds of campus, the halls of the ICO were vacant as well. The halls were void of another human's presence and even sounds as Wallace heard nothing as he passed bedrooms. The sight of his dorm door stuck a chord in him at its normalcy. A plain wooden door, no notes, no graffiti as he expected, and the fact that it wasn't for some reason taped off as also a surprise, surely the police or reporters have stormed it looking for something.

Though the hall had been warmed, as Wallace unlocked his door and stepped inside, he was met with the same chill from the outdoors. He didn't bother to turn on the light, as the blinds were up, exposing the three open windows that had left snowfall inside to coat the window sill.

Wallace looked over Wink's pool, empty and toppled into the corner of his room, the side dented in as if someone had kicked it out of their way. Nevertheless he laid the pool flat and placed Wink inside, the water-type's claws scratching against the plastic.

It was the stillness of the room that made Wallace shiver, not the temperature. His bed remained as he'd left it the day he attended Arlette's memorial, his clothes remained in the closet and everything he'd left on his desk was there, but the other side of the room had been stripped.

Garret's bedding was gone, leaving only the flimsy blue mattress behind. His desk was cleared and his television was gone. Wallace slid open the closet doors, hoping to find at least a jacket inside, but it too was empty, as if no one had ever shared the room with him. Still, Wallace checked the overhead cabinets as well as every drawer in the dresser, thinking he might find a note, a scrap of paper, a sock, but only dust remained in the room.

As he moved toward his bed and plopped down, the frigid sheets sending him shooting back up, Wallace could picture Neo kicking the pool into the corner as he barked orders at Garret to get his stuff and move out. He wondered if Garret was back to sleeping on Neo's floor as he moved toward the window and glanced down at the yard behind the ICO. Where Willow and Sienna had battled, the yard was hidden beneath the snow, no prints showing any sign of life or activity.

As Izumi had said, Wallace Peters had died in the fire, though it looked like his life as a student had perished under ice. A foreign sound, a knock on his door, startled Wallace through the silence.

Wallace deposited elgyem on his dresser as he moved toward the door and opened it without hesitation. A number of faces could have been waiting on the other side for him, but Don's hadn't crossed his mind. A dark green beanie rested on top of his head, containing his dark hair and he looked as bulked up as Wink did wearing a dark green coat and a scarf that swallowed his neck and chin.

"Cosmo said he spotted you on campus and texted me," Don said, taking small steps inside.

Wallace backed away as Don entered and slowly shut the door behind him, his nerves keeping him from saying anything. With the click of the lock Wallace watched Don make a concerted effort not to venture far into the room, stopping near the middle he undid his scarf and with several snaps, shrugged out of his coat, folding It over his arm.

"It's cold in here, but I guess it's colder outside," Don said, turning to face Garret's bed. "Your roommate moved out."

"I guess so," Wallace said, his voice a whisper. Speaking, Wallace realized he wasn't nervous to stand before Don, he was afraid.

"I'm nervous." Don waved to Wink and to elgyem before he turned to Wallace, his green eyes darker without any added lighting in the room. "I don't know why I came here," he said, shrugging slightly.

Wallace furrowed his brow, forcing him to watch Don's feet. "I'm glad you did, I want to tell you something," he said.

"What? You sound serious," Don said, clearing his throat as he buried his hands into the folds of his coat.

"I am serious," Wallace said, daring a step forward that made Don take one back. Wallace eyed his feet, the toe of his shoe digging the tile as Don backed up again. "What are you doing?" Wallace asked as his eyes trailed up Don's body to find Don glancing at the walls, his cool façade shattering.

"What? I'm nervous, what?" Don asked, shrugging again. "I wish your roommate was here."

"Well, he's gone, why would he need to be here?" Wallace asked.

Don bit his lip and rocked on his feet. "Because I feel like you're going to hurt me."

"I wouldn't do that," Wallace said, stronger. "I just don't know what to say, or how to say it, I'm nervous too."

"Just say it," Don said, his shoulders shrugging up even further.

Wallace exhaled and took to pacing, the only thing that he thought might comfort him, the quiet undertones of their conversation and the stillness of his room too much to bear. "So, I've been feeling some type of way, about you."

"What does that mean?" Don asked, his face burying into his scarf. "About me?"

Wallace paused in front of his door, wishing he could bust through it, leaving behind a body shaped hole, and escape from the conversation. "I'm single. You're single. And I've been thinking about those type of things, if that makes sense."

"It doesn't," Don said.

"I mean, we kind of got close because of your brothers, and you helping me," Wallace said, walking a line in front of his door. "I'm just gonna say it." The sound of wooden drawers moving caught Wallace's attention. Turning, he saw Don supporting himself against the dresser, his free hand linger over his chest.

Elgyem flashed the yellow digits on his hands at Don as he drifted away from the boy. "Elgy?"

"Are you okay?" Wallace asked.

"My heart is beating, really fast," Don said, staring at his chest as if he expected a cartoon imprint of his heart to beat out from his sweater. "What are you trying to say, I – I feel uncomfortable, nervous."

"I have feelings for you," Wallace blurted, his voice bouncing off the cold walls and slamming back into him. "Like in a romantic way. But I didn't really think about them until recently, when it felt like my life was put back together. I'm not going to act like you're dumb and don't know, because I know it's been everywhere on the news, who I am, my father, all of it. But I started to think if I didn't have to hide anything anymore, I thought that maybe I could get to know you better, or we could know each other."

Don clutched his chest, his eyes narrowing. "Wallace, what?"

Wallace stuffed his hands into his pockets, unsure of what to do with his arms as Don fixed him in his gaze. "I mean, I think you're really nice, and supportive, and kind to people that don't always deserve it. And I'm thankful for the times that you've helped me or tried to be there for me, but I think I appreciated it more because I really like you," Wallace said, blowing air from his mouth as he spoke the last words, his breath lightening the impact of his confession. "It's because of that and I liked Tempest, and I think I liked Azalea, for a moment, but nothing feels right, I told you that, nothing feels as good and while I was away I was just trying to clear my mind, now that all of my other drama is out of the picture, I wanted to clear my mind, for you. And that's what's been going on."

Don made a low noise in his throat. "I mean — I can't — I mean, are you sure?"

"I've been taking care of a few things while I was away, but at the end of the day, it's all I've been thinking about, non-stop, I can't stop thinking about it. I think I'm really sure."

"You have feelings for me?" Don asked.

"Yeah," Wallace croaked. "You're awesome," he said, mentally face palming.

"I'm just me," Don shrugged, glancing at himself in the mirror.

"You're not just you, I mean, I don't know how you're not seeing someone," Wallace said. "You're awesome," he said, wishing he could just stop talking.

"After we kissed, I just thought you'd be a good friend, someone I could talk to..." Don said. "I'm sorry if you thought –"

"It's been building from that night," Wallace said. "I didn't really know what kind of friend you'd be after that, but I think it's cause I want you to be more than a friend."

"I think you're — I don't know what to say, Wallace. You just hit me out of nowhere, I hope you can understand where I'm coming from," Don said. "I was out of my mind when I kissed you, and I just don't know. I just I'd come here we were going to talk, about what's been happening, but I think I should go, it's weird." Don made a move toward the door and Wallace shifted back, falling against the door.

"No, please, don't leave," Wallace said.

Don faltered, taking a few steps back, making an effort to maintain a distance from Wallace. "It's just — I don't know what to say — I'm awkward, uncomfortable."

"Don," Wallace said, his voice low.

"What?" Don said, shrugging, his voice rising high as his eyes flicked across Wallace's face and then to the floor, unable to focus on anything.

"It's okay, you don't have to leave."

"I think I do, I just don't know what to do, I don't know if I should even take a step because I don't know what that one step will mean to you. I can't think straight. What am I supposed to do, I don't want you to feel bad."

"Why would I need to feel bad?" Wallace asked, stepping forward as he opened his arms to Don. Don's face scrunched up as he moved back, but bumped into Wink's pool that he dipped around, placing it between him and Wallace. "Really?" Wallace asked.

"I'm serious, this is awkward," Don said, gripping the metal frame of Wallace's bed that began to rattle from his touch.

"Don, you're shaking."

"This is awkward!" Don yelled. "I feel bad, I feel so bad like I — I don't know, I just need to get out of this situation, this is bad. I want to cry because I feel terrible — I mean — I — no — I don't know – I – I – I." Don mumbled and wandered through the corner of the room he'd backed himself into. "I just... Wallace, I don't feel the same way about you, and that's why I want to leave, because I feel like you're wanting something I don't want and I feel trapped."

"What do you mean you don't feel the same? You kissed me?" Wallace asked.

Don's mouth opened, his chest puffing out, but he remained quiet as he gripped the bed frame harder. "I don't know."

"When I told you I liked you, why didn't you tell me then if you didn't feel the same," Wallace asked. "What's different now?"

Don's eyes flicked to Wallace, his flat expression relaying the message Wallace already knew, one he didn't need repeated. "You're not wearing your glasses," Don said.

Wallace looked to the mirror. In an act of his two lives colliding, an imperfect circle, Wallace folded his glasses up and put them away, putting his contact back in. His hair had grown in since his last cut and the dark coloring from homecoming had begun to fade, dirty roots sprouting on his scalp.

"Everywhere I went, no matter what building it was, whose room it was, what time of day it was, the news was on and they were only talking about you," Don said. "Professors started deviating from their lessons to discuss what was happening and how it would affect your father's company. Who you really are came out first, then your father was declared dead. Then came the fact that Andrew wasn't dead. Then everyone started cried, dropping flowers off for Arlette, apologizing, but now it's all back to you."

Wallace watched Don in the mirror, the boy facing him, but Wallace couldn't bring himself to make eye contact and instead focused on Don's cheek and the clenching his jaw made every time he stopped talking.

"Everyone wants to know who you really are, why you lied about your name, where you came from," Don said. "People started coming together and sharing stories, things you told them that never made sense, but now they understand. You were always a mystery to people in Kalos, apparently, Wallace Pearce."

Wallace snapped his eyes shut, a burning sensation causing his eyes to water. "Don, please."

"So now people are trying to figure out if who you were when you were here was real, or if it was all an act," Don said. "I'm trying to figure that out too. So that's why. That's why I can't like you back. Because I don't know who you are."

"You know me, I – "

"I don't!" Don yelled, his fists coming away from the bed and balling into fists at his side. "From the moment you told me your name was Wallace Peters, you started lying to me, to everyone, and everything you said after that was a lie. I don't care if there were bits of the truth mixed in, if you really like the color red, and like sunsets, and ice cream, it was all told under the pretense of a lie. And people have lied to me before, and I forgive them, but what makes you so different if that there's a shadow around you. One of death, and mystery, and bad things and I don't – I don't want to be with the bad guy. I can't thank you enough for what you did for my family, looking after us, but don't feel like you're obligated to do that anymore."

Wallace remained rooted in place as Don inched around the pool and darted toward the door. "I don't think there's much left here for you, you should just go back to Lumiose," Don said before the door hinges squeaked and he closed the door behind him.

In the time that passed following Don's departure, Wallace closed the windows, the bursts of wind that intruded the room wearing down on his nerves. He let Wink practice his water gun by filling the pool and let spinarak and elgyem play around the room before he grabbed a towel and some toiletries from his dresser and headed to the bathroom.

Like the rest of campus, the bathroom across from his room was empty and cold. He cranked his shower's water up until he couldn't stand it and turned it a little more. The silence, interrupted only by the patter of water dripping from his body was relaxing as Wallace scrubbed his skin, hoping Eleanor's advice about self-care might come in handy again. As he lowered his head under the water he hoped he'd emerged from the steam and heat with a clear idea of his next move.

After about fifteen minutes under the jet stream, Wallace dried off tightened a knot in his towel around his waist and waddled out of the shower row, careful not to slip in pools of water that spread across the tiled floor from his shower. But when he turned the corner into the entry, Wallace skidded to the stop, nearly slipping and falling. The population of the boy's bathroom had increased since Wallace first came in. Willow and James, Chara's underlings, stood in the entry, James by the sinks and Willow blocking the door.

Wallace's eyes darted to Willow's head, beyond her white hair, braided around her temples, he spotted the bathroom door's lock, turned to keep anyone from walking in.

"Looks like everyone knows who are you now, Pearce," James said. The half of his face that received the poison sting appeared glossy and white under the bathroom lights, his eyes narrowing into slits at Wallace.

"I'm all caught up, Wallace, I know it all now." Willow crossed the room and reached forward to grab Wallace's head. His hair was just long enough for Willow to take a fistful of before she dragged him towards the sinks, her strength surprising him as she slammed his face down onto the cold porcelain edge.

Wallace sputtered up blood and a plea for her to stop when James' foot swung up and wedged itself into his ribcage. Willow's other hand gripped the side of Wallace's head before she whirled him around to slam his head against the wall before she released him and let him stagger and collapse onto the floor.

Blood boiled from Wallace's lips as his eyes slurred the image of the fluorescent lights above before James squatted over him. The last thing Wallace saw was James' fist coming for him before his nose broke open.

End of Chapter Thirty Four

AN: With this chapter I guess I'm halfway through writing this story. I'll be taking a small break from updating as I wrap up another project and start work on another, as well as plotting the second half of this story. I hope you'll reserve the darkest part of your heart for Wallace until my return.

Question of the Chapter #33: Do you think there is any place Wallace belongs?