Tepig

The darkness was everywhere, a consuming mass all around him. It gnawed at him, making it even harder to sleep than it already was. He kept on thinking about what would happen if he didn't sleep for two nights in a row. Would his body be able to handle that much sleep deprivation, or would he be sitting there and suddenly crash for eighteen, twenty-four hours? He didn't know. All he knew was that the moon was the only light he could see, dim and faded behind his curtains. He also knew that the hospital bed wasn't comfortable at all. Not in the least. He kept shifting around in it, kept trying to make himself more comfortable on the flat rock he was forced to call his bed. But nothing came of it. He was trapped in the ever-revolving door of twisting and turning, the bed an uncomfortable, hard, lumpy mess.

His mind kept going back to the morning. To Monferno lying in his bed, crying, calling himself useless. To Quilava, there by his side, allowing him to weep into his shoulder, taking Monferno's sorrow away with the truth, no matter how corny it had been. It was true and it was pure, and Tepig envied it. It made him think about how unhappy he was, about how terrible he felt when he was with and without Fennekin. Fennekin, he realized, had become his curse. She was everywhere when he didn't want her there. And when she wasn't there, he needed her. But not to love. Only to like. Only as a friend.

Was that the problem he had? He thought it could be the root, so he allowed his mind to continue further in thought. Perhaps it was just Fennekin herself. The two of them had grown up together, played in the same world and trained in the same places. They were practically family. It was gross of him to think this way, but he couldn't help feeling that Fennekin was more of a sister to him than a lover.

Now, of course. Before, though, after his parents had died and all he could think about was the sweet release death could provide for him, she had been there with him, sitting on the steps of a broken house, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. They had sat that way for hours, watching as other Fire Nation citizens passed by in the streets, looking at Tepig with a sympathy he sometimes didn't know was real but other times realized was as pure as it could get. And then she had kissed him gently, and he had kissed her, unable to help it, impulsively yearning for her. She had led him inside and into his room, the room that was probably rotting away from being empty for so long. There she had loved him and had whispered to him the secret she'd been keeping for so long, rubbing against him as she professed her undying passion for him.

But that was the past. That was before he realized that she was only a crutch to him, before every day the guilt consumed him and he was forced to put on a fake smile for her, all for her, giving up his livelihood for her just because he couldn't bring himself to break her heart. It wasn't going to free him if he did tell her, but only lock him even tighter in the cage. She would cry and she would wallow in her own self-loathing and hatred, and he would have done that to her. He would have led her down that path. What was worse; giving up your soul for someone you don't love to save theirs, or saving yours soul but giving up a friend's in return? None of it was right.

And then there was light.

Tepig glimpsed her small, shadowy form just as the door closed behind her. She didn't say a word as she approached, her tiny feet tapping lightly on the floor. He closed his eyes and listened as she approached, and in that moment he understood what she had come here for. He felt her body brush up against his as she climbed into the bed with him. He felt her weight on top of him, her body warm and fluffy against his skin, like having a feathery pillow atop him. She moved back and forth against him, kissing his face, wanting him, waiting for him to signal to her that he was awake and wanted the same thing. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't.

"Please stop," he croaked, feeling tears suddenly spring to his eyes. She did, but she stayed on top of him for a moment more. Then she was off, leaping to the floor. The light didn't need to be so bright for him to tell her face was clouded with worry.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to be so up front it's just…it's been so long and you've been so distant these past few days and I…sorry."

"Please stop," he said again, and he realized there was no way for him to hide it any longer. He could feel it, the waters of truth pushing against the dam he'd created. And soon they would flood, and it would release into the world the worst of his punishments for someone who had never wronged him. He felt so horrible, but he couldn't stop, and it was about to come out in a rush.

"I know, Tepig," she said suddenly. "I know…I know you don't love me anymore."

The waters had poured out long before Tepig had noticed the cracks in the dam. And now it was time to clean up the mess.

"Fennekin, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to say. I really don't."

"No, it's fine," she said in a way that made it apparent that it was anything but "fine." "I get it."

"Oh, Arceus, no," Tepig said. "It's not you Fennekin. It was never you. It was me."

"Stop trying to make me feel better," she snapped, startling him. "You and I both know it was me. I mean, if I wasn't putting enough into it, if you really weren't feeling like I loved you, you could have told me whenever you wanted to. We didn't have to do this little song and dance and hope for the best. Tepig, it could have been better. But now…now, I think maybe I've gone too far and it's too late."

"I'm not just saying it's not you," Tepig retorted, feeling the hidden torrent suddenly swirling and ejecting from the last of the cracks. "I'm telling you you're not at fault because you're not. You are one of the sweetest and kindest Pokémon I've ever known. You truly are. Fennekin, you're my best friend. And I think, I think that maybe that night, when you were comforting me at my house, I think that's just what I needed. I felt reinvigorated there, with you. But it was there, Fennekin. It was at that house.

"But now we're not in that house anymore. Now we're here. Now we're somewhere where that house doesn't matter, where that house is light years away. Now, Fennekin, we're here, in a hospital room, surrounded by people. Here, in the open, and now I just…don't feel it. I haven't for a long time, probably longer than I'd like to admit to myself. And please don't take it the wrong way because I care about you Fennekin, I do. You're one of my best friends. You're the only friend I have left. Please…can you accept that? Is that…okay?"

He could see something shining in the moonlight, and he realized it was far from okay. "Okay?" she said. Then, shouted; "Okay!? I've lost all of my friends in the past three days, Tepig! Everyone! Ponyta's dead, Charmander and Torchic are Arceus knows where, my mother is too consumed by her work, and all Braixen does is ignore everyone! So no, Tepig, it's not okay! It's not damn okay for you to just spring on me this thing that's just…and out of nowhere!"

"Not out of nowhere," Tepig corrected. "You're the one who brought this up, even if I told you to stop, how could you just suddenly know that I wasn't happy? You didn't just suddenly know. You've known for a long time, maybe as long as I have, that it's not going to work out. It just isn't."

"Screw you," Fennekin retorted, turning to leave.

He heard a few patters when he finally burst out, "I was never going to tell you."

She stopped. He heard her turn around and, knowing he now had her undivided attention, continued. "I was never going to. I was going to just sit here and wait for it all to get better, somehow. I was going to marry you, Fennekin. I would have, given the chance. I would have fathered children, I would have trained to become a Great Warrior like my parents, I would have taught our children and grandchildren how to fight. As crazy as it sounds, I would go that far. I would have, and don't think for a second I wouldn't have. And I wasn't going to do it for me. I wasn't going to do it because I loved you, or because I was happy pretending to be in love with you. I was going to do it because you're my friend, and you deserve to be happy."

"And all for what?" she yelled. "You would do that, just give yourself up, make it look like we had something, this false thing that just falls away the moment you lay eyes on it? No. I'm glad you never got the chance to do that to me, to make me think you were just as happy as I was when you weren't. What would have happened twenty years from now if we were married, expecting a child, and suddenly I found out what you really felt, how you truly were? As a matter of fact, I'm starting to think maybe this was a good thing!"

"Fennekin, please, don't!" Tepig shouted, feeling the desperation in his voice, realizing how awful and how far-removed from the Tepig she once knew he must have sounded like. Not this brooding figure that cared and maybe cracked a few jokes, but the real Tepig. Now she could see that ugly monster. The one that was desperate for a heart to beat with, the one that felt the claws of death every second of every day because the thoughts only slowed down, they never truly went away. The one that was never in love with her, that would have given himself up to her just so she could live in a happy little lie, because what else was there left for this poor trainee without a mother or father? What was there that was left for him other than to go on pretending to be happy?

Nothing. There was nothing left. And then there really was nothing left, because she walked out, letting in a little bit of light as she did so, then slamming the door forcefully, shaking the bed, making Tepig want to jump out of the bed and race after her and embrace and kiss her just to keep living the lie so she wouldn't leave him alone in the darkness of this room. It was colder now, her presence evaporated, a chill unexpectedly conquering him. He wrapped himself up even tighter in his miniscule blankets, his mind racing.

Everything was gone now. Nothing remained but the hope of repair. And even still, all it was was hope. How could hope help in the slightest? Fennekin was gone. Ponyta was dead. His parents were dead. Torchic was dead. Charmander was dead. There was nothing left but the darkness, and in it he hoped to find a way out. In it he hoped to find himself. Whatever that meant. He was too tired to think clearly. He needed rest.

When he closed his eyes, he suddenly discovered the bed was much more comfortable than it had been a few minutes ago. So comfortable, in fact, that he was asleep within minutes.