Tipping the Scales

by RandomJaz

Caught up in a tricky relationship with his on and off again ex boyfriend, Gary, Ash struggles to stay in check as his new roommate,Paul, initially exhibits some aggressive behaviors. Where do actions and reactions stand on the moral scale? What weight must intentions bare to be justified? PalletShipping, ComaShipping. Gary/Ash Paul/Ash Yaoi.

37. Chapter 37

AUTHOR'S NOTE: *Shakes the crumbs off my shirt from the snack cakes I've been eating* Don't get me started on college, or people (Not you guys. You guys are my favorite). I've sitting here stress eating and writing because honestly, how else am I going to solve my problems? Not productively, clearly.

Anyways, Halloween's tomorrow and I hope you all have fun whether you're going out partying, trick or treating (Don't let ANYONE tell you that you can't!), staying in for a movie or giving out candy. If you're going out, please drink responsibly, keep your hands, mouth and private parts to yourself unless given consent otherwise. COSTUMES ARE NOT CONSENT. I don't care if you're naked, no one has the right to touch you unless you say so.

Also, be weary that there may be some people out with PTSD or anxiety that may react badly to you jumping out of the dark to yell or grab at them. Seriously, it's terrifying to us. Please try and be mindful. That person trying to get to their car doesn't want to shit their pants or have a panic attack.

Alright, I think that's my two-cents. Thank you for reading!

Xxxxx

It was freezing that Thanksgiving night, but I ventured out of the house shortly after Maggie had played her voicemail. I could barely remember anything after hearing Dad's voice. I could only remember excusing myself because I needed space, then walking out of the house. No Jacket, no hat. But the cold didn't bother me that night.

It sure as hell bothered Paul when he came out looking for me after having been cleaning up the kitchen with Alain.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

I didn't answer him.

"Ash." he scolded as he came in closer. "It's below fifty degrees out here."

I still didn't give him any indication that I had heard him. Paul walked out in front of me, crouching down to my eye level. With him looking right at me, I could just hardly force myself to say anything.

"I don't feel it." I told him.

"You're shivering."

True to Paul's observation, I was shivering. I really didn't feel it. He had no jacket or sweatshirt on, just his nice jeans and a black long-sleeve button up collared shirt for the holiday. With nothing to wrap around me, he didn't wait for me to give him permission or even ask to take me inside. He picked me up and brought me back inside the house away from the cold. Reggie had been on his way over with the blanket Maggie had draped over me earlier, the same scared look in his coal eyes I'd seen in Paul's.

In fact, everyone's eyes were on me when Paul carried me back inside. No one in the room was judging me, but the way everyone eyed me pitifully made it obvious to me that everyone was filled in on what previously drove me out of the house to begin with. Reggie came forward to put the blanket over me. Reflexively, I pushed my hands out.

"It was so cold out there." Reggie coaxed me, trying again. "Here, just let me get this on you."

Everyone staring at me felt so embarrassing. Paul carrying me in had been the kindle to the fire, Reggie's kind gesture beginning to feed the flames. I didn't want the blanket, I didn't want anyone's pity.

And, I didn't want my dad anymore.

My eyes welled up. Quickly, my face burned with shame. I briefly made eye contact with Alain and he looked away, awkwardly. In that moment, I didn't feel like a grown twenty-one-year-old man. I felt like I was five years old. Then like any typical five-year-old faced with gut-wrenching embarrassment... I cried. Everyone flinched.

"Paul, put me down!"

"Baby, hey-"

"I'm not a baby! I said put me down!"

Obeying, Paul put me down. It was quick, he set me on my feet. Alain walked away, cueing for Reggie to follow him. It wasn't the man's nature to abandon someone in emotional distress, so it took Alain tugging him away and whispering something to him for Reggie to understand why he really needed to leave the room.

"You're going to make it worse." Alain cautioned under his breath. "Give him some space. Like, right now."

"I can't just-"

"Trust me on this."

Reggie and Alain went to the Kitchen, calling the Pokémon to come get some treats to pass off the exit as best as they could. Maggie held her hands up to me, cautioning me to stay calm. Her stance wasn't fearful like she was walking on eggshells, waiting for a bomb to detonate. She approached me slowly with understanding eyes.

"Ashton... come to Grandma."

"Don't call me that. Please...I'm not-"

"It's what your father named you."

I wanted to scream.

I thought I held the explosion in... but something went wrong. Paul was picking me up again and we were going up the stairs, Maggie standing at the bottom of the steps with hands held over her heart in regret. I was crying, but I couldn't hear myself. There was a sharp ringing in my ears, instead.

The sound of Reggie's kitchen chair scraping across the floor fell on my near-deaf ears. I couldn't hear the scramble Alain made to keep him from following his most primal instinct- the one that told him to follow the sound of someone crying.

My throat was burning, and whatever sound that came out of me must have been god-awful because the last time I'd seen that hopeless look on my grandmother's face was when my Mother had come and snatched me away from her. The repressed memory came back to me in a flash, my sobbing face in Paul's chest as my rib cage felt like it would soon collapse and put me out of my misery.

I'd tried so hard to keep certain things stored away, out of mind. But, now here it was, coming back to remind me that the skeletons we quietly stuff away in our closets still have voices.

Xxxxx

"Margaret!"

My grandmother's home hadn't been the calmest place that day my mother came roaring and banging on the door like a rabid Ursaring. As she tried breaking down the door, my grandmother's dex laid clutched in my hands. I had it held to my chest, tears streaming down my face as my father's voice played from it.

I'd pestered my grandmother about where my father had gone and when he'd come back, but she wouldn't tell me. I remembered crying until my throat was raw and to appease me, she had pulled up the voice mail my father had left her at some point weeks prior.

"Mother, call me back when you can. I'll be coming over with Ashton. Alright? We-" he said before my voice could be heard cutting in.

"I want to talk to Grandma!"

"Ashton, it's a message."

"I love you, Grandma!"

My father chuckled.

"You love Grandma that much, hm?"

"Daddy, I love you too. Not just Grandma."

"Daddy loves you too, Ashton. More than anything."

The voicemail ended with my father assuring my grandmother we'd be over soon. The front door banged and rattled, my mother screaming. My grandmother clutched me to her chest for a moment, peppering kisses to the crown of my head before going to answer the door.

"Margaret!" My mother kept screaming. "Give me back my son! So help me, I will break down this door! I'll call the police, give me my son!"

Bravely, my grandmother let her in. She stormed right past the elderly woman straight to me, ripping the dex from my hands and chucking it towards the couch. She yanked me up from the floor, not caring that I was wailing and trying to run back and retrieve the precious device that held my father's voice.

"Ash, we're leaving." She growled, pulling me towards the door. "Say goodbye to your grandmother, forever."

There was screeching on my end. So much so that concerned neighbors had left their apartments to check the hallway and see what was happening. My grandmother followed closely behind my mother, pleading.

"Delia, please don't take him." she begged. "Don't take my grandbaby. He means so much to me, please-"

Clenching my thin wrist too hard, my mother turned on her heals and pointed a finger right in my grandmother's tearful face. Through my own tears I could see the hospital band still on my mother's wrist as I tried prying my hand away from her.

"I am SICK of you, and your good-for-nothing son! I am on to both of you. Oh, yes I am!" she began, voice becoming a vicious snarl. "You two just want everyone to think I'm crazy, don't you? You want to make me look bad? I am a good mother!"

"I just want to be his grandmother, Delia."

"Over my dead body. You tell that man that if he ever tries to come back, the next time he sees Ash will be in court!"

Fighting tooth and nail, I clutched at the doorframe of my grandmother's front door as my mother tried pulling me out. My grandmother's dark, wrinkled hands touched mine as she told me she loved me.

"Grandma's sweet boy." she reminded me, holding back from crying as my tears ran free. "You're Grandma's sweet boy. I love you, Ashton."

My full name sent my mother in to a worse rage and she ripped my little hands off the doorframe, some of the paint coming off under my nails.

"His name is Ash!"

I was hoisted over my mother's shoulder as she marched away.

"Mama, put me down! Put me down!" I sobbed, reaching out for my grandmother with sore fingers. "Mama, I said put me down!"

Xxxxxx

I was scheduled to work the next morning, but the daily alarm that would have gone off on my dex was turned off. And, I was in Paul's bed. At Reggie's house. The bedside clock said it was past Noon. The curtains were drawn shut but it was still dark... too dark. Rubbing my eyes, I saw that towels had been draped on top of the closed curtains, ensuring no light would come in.

There was the normal hustle and bustle of Reggie's house, the Pokémon and Reggie downstairs. Everything felt so normal... yet, something was horribly off. I couldn't remember. Disorientated, I laid back down and curled up. Was I sick? My body was tired, my head was foggy, my throat was almost raw, and everything inside me screamed "go back to sleep".

A rattling of the doorknob led to the door swinging open a bit. I had no idea who it was until a cold, wet nose was sniffing my ear and two front paws were pressing down on the mattress behind me.

"Growlithe?" I asked him hoarsely.

He gave a low whine and licked at my ear affectionately, hopping up all the way. His body settled in over mine as he laid across my legs protectively. Some grumbles came from him and he gave a sigh, relaxing as if to settle in. The physical contact was welcome and I shut my eyes to follow his example, trying to ease the malaise in my body. The dog Pokémon's absence from elsewhere in the house led someone to find the bedroom door left ajar.

"Growlithe, psst! Get the hell out of there."

Paul assumed I was still asleep. He hurried in to the room, being as quiet as he could muster while urgently trying to get Growlithe out. Meanwhile, the Shinx snuck in.

"Leave him there." I spoke up, in the dark. "I'm up."

"...Your voice sounds horrible."

"My throat really hurts."

"I'll go get you something for it."

The remedy Paul came back with was a spoon and a squeeze bottle of honey, curtesy of Reggie. Said man was secretly peering in to the room, curious to how I was doing. As were Alain and various Pokémon who normally would have been waiting in line for their shampooing and general grooming by that time of day.

"Paul, I don't feel good." I whispered, truly feeling as if the life had been beaten out of me with a wooden bat. "What's going on?"

"...Do you remember anything from yesterday?"

"Yesterday? It was Thanksgiving, wasn't it?"

A spoonful of honey was squeezed out from the bottle and Paul carefully fed it to me as I laid on my side with my back facing the door. The light shining in gave Paul enough light to see what he was doing. The sugary coating helped alleviate the dry burn in my throat a little.

Paul set the honey and spoon aside to fix the blankets around me and ensure I was tucked in and comfortable. Growlithe lifted his head and licked at Paul's hands affectionately as he worked. Too fixated on me, Paul gave the dog a brief pat on the head and carried on until he was sure I was settled in.

"It was Thanksgiving... you had a rough night." Paul explained to me. "Take it easy, Today."

"I have work, Today."

"No, you don't."

I was going to argue that yes, I did have work being it was a Friday. But, thinking about it, Paul should have been at work too.

"Why aren't you at work?"

"The diner is closed today."

The Diner being closed on a non-holiday was unheard of. My grandmother was such a hard worker. That Diner and stall of hers were her life.

"Is Maggie sick?"

"No, she stayed in the spare room last night. She's goimg to open up for Lunch later."

I couldn't remember anything from the night before, after Dinner. Something churned in my stomach, and I felt like something horrible was on its way.

"...What happened last night?"

"We can talk about that later." Paul dismissed, unwilling to delve in to it at all. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"No... could you just stay in here with me for a little?"

Going to shut the bedroom door, Paul meant to shoo away the people ease dropping. But, Maggie was already behind the scenes ushering the gathered crowd away. Paul got in to bed next to me, saying nothing about Growlithe being in there with us. On his clean sheets, no less. Every other time the Pokémon had been in there he complained about the fur.

Speaking of fur, two more bodies jumped up on to the bed. Stealthily, at that. Neither Paul or I had noticed until both cat Pokémon made themselves at home near Gowlithe. Both of them encroached too close to where the dog Pokémon was lying protectively on me and he nudged them away with his snout. The cats bopped him on the nose like rabid fire.

"This isn't a slumber party. Would all of you fuck off or something?" Paul told them when he realized we had a growing group of Pokémon in bed with us.

"Could they stay?"

Leaving them all, Paul and I fell back in to silence. It took the silence of the room and Paul's embrace for my head to start pulling up bits and pieces of the previous night. Paul knew it was coming back to me because without warning my fingers were clenching down on him fiercely and I was coming in as close as I could get to him.

"You had a rough night." he repeated. "We're going to take it easy, Today."

"Reggie needs my help."

"He'll figure it out. What do you need, Baby?"

"I don't know... I think I'm losing my mind."

"You're not losing your mind. Forget anything exists outside this room for a few minutes."

"There's so much out there... I'm so tired of it."

There was something Paul wanted to say to me, but he hesitated. The sobs rattling my diaphragm around were making their way up to my throat. Whatever it was that he wanted to tell me, he feared it would push me over the edge. It was the last thing he wanted.

"Reggie's been pushing me to say something to you, but I didn't think it was appropriate. Looking back on it now, he was right all along."

"What did he say to you?"

"That you should go see a therapist."

And, there was that sobbing I'd been trying to hold back.

"You do think I'm crazy."

"No, I don't think you're crazy."

"I'm just like my mother, aren't I?"

"Ash. Everyone in this damn house probably needs therapy. It doesn't make us crazy. And, it doesn't make you your mother."

Growlithe lifted his head as he felt the onset of my distress. Shoving his nose in to me as I curled up in to Paul, he whimpered. I didn't react to him and he sat up on the bed, giving a low howl after multiple attempts to soothe me.

"Not that again, cut it out." Paul snapped, his skin crawling at the sound. "You're not helping."

Paul ordered Growlithe to get out and the dog Pokémon refused, pawing at him and still whimpering trying to urge him to do something about me. Reaching out for Growlithe, I pulled him down to lay across my legs, again.

"He can stay right there." I sniffled. "I think I'm just making him anxious."

"We're all anxious." Paul quipped back, bluntly. "We're all worried about you."

Both Shinx stood up in bed and began crawling up my side, getting in close to my face. I shushed them and pulled them back down. Holding them both, I understood why Reggie and Alain needed them to sleep for so many years. They were comforting.

"I don't want to talk about all the horrible shit I've been through with a stranger."

"Start with me then. Or Reggie, or your Grandmother. I'm sure Alain would listen if you asked him to. Get the nitty gritty shit out."

Everyone he listed would have listened to what I had to say, looking to ease the burden on my heart. But, it felt so intimidating. The last thing I needed was for people to have any other reason to view me as crazy, damaged or some walking basket case. If I wanted to be okay then I could be. Right?

"I want to keep some things to myself, Paul. You know what that's like... don't you?"

"You need to find some closure with your parents."

Me finding closure with my parents sounded about as likely as Paul celebrating Mother's day.

"I'll find closure as soon as you do." I said to him, sarcastically. "Let me know how that goes."

"I have found closure with my parents. They're both the scum of the fucking Earth. There isn't anything for me to go back and evaluate."

Paul touched my throat, stroking it as he pitied how horrible I sounded. Putting a hand on top of his to stop him, I pulled it down to rest on my chest. Both Shinx rested their heads on his hand.

"You think there's something worth looking for in my dad?" I asked him. "He abandoned me. He left me with a crazy woman."

"You think mine didn't?"

"..."

"I can't say much in the defense of your father. The man fucked up. At this point, an apology isn't worth more than his weight in shit. But, it sounds like he would be willing to at least give you one."

I could only assume that Paul's father wasn't as forthcoming to owning up to his own errors.

"Did you want an apology from your father, Paul?"

"I want his head on a stake. That's not the point."

"... what did he do?"

"He abused Reggie. He put him through worse than what I went through with our mother."

The story Paul had was not one he wanted to share. He promised me it was nothing I wanted to know about.

"You won't look at Reggie the same way if you knew."

"That's not true."

"Ash, you don't know what you're talking about."

I insisted that I wanted to know and Paul got defensive, shutting down.

"I regret saying anything. Drop it, this isn't relevant to you right now."

"If we're getting married, I deserve to know where your family is coming from."

"If I had to guess, it would be Hell."

Paul gave me one last chance to back down. I wouldn't. Pissed he was being put in a situation to fully air the dirty laundry, so to speak, Paul went scarily quiet for a few moments.

"If you can't be fully honest with me right now, how am I supposed to be honest with a total stranger?"

"My father, he had my brother raped."

"...what did you just say?"

"You heard me."

"Why-why would he-"

When Reggie was growing up, he hadn't been shy confessing his interest in the same sex. Paul's father hadn't taken to it well, at all. Years went by with him trying to dissuade Reggie in any way he could. There was screaming, and there were beatings with anything the man could get his hands on. It wasn't until Reggie was in middle school and their father had caught him kissing a boy that something inhumanely cruel was set in the works.

"One of the creeps my mother bought her supply from was known for being a predator... my father tossed Reggie in a room with him and locked the door. Told him that if he liked men, he wouldn't anymore, then walked away."

"Your father handed Reggie over to a pedophile?"

"Without realizing it, he indirectly handed me over to him too. He wasn't as bright as he thought he was with that fucking idea of his."

I apologized to Paul, assuming he had been sexually abused right along with his older brother. That wasn't what had happened.

"Reggie intervened before the sicko could touch me. One day the guy came over to sell my mother drugs right before Reggie had come home from his afterschool job at the time. My brother came looking for me, first found Mom passed the hell out. The creep was in my room. He hadn't done anything to me, yet. Reggie didn't give him the chance."

"Did Reggie freak out?"

"Something came over him... Something in him snapped. Reggie chased the creep out of the room and pushed him down the stairs, full force. No hesitation. The body surpassed the steps and just landed right on the ground."

The imagery of a body going down like that...the body hitting the ground. Ugh.

"I bet he never messed with either of you, again. With the broken bones and all-"

"He died from a broken neck. Whatever else he broke didn't matter at that point,"

That changed a lot.

"He died?"

"Our father came home, found the body."

"W-What did he do?"

"Got rid of it and never came back home. He left that day, and I know for a fact it was because he was scared of my older brother. What he was capable of, now."

Paul's brother... killed a man.

"...Reggie. The man downstairs who sings to Pokémon and gardens? He-"

"It was a pedophile. And, in defense." Paul justified, quickly. "Not that he sees it that way. He did it in a rage and knew exactly what he wanted the outcome to be. He got it."

"All this when he was a teenager?"

"He had enough, everyone has a breaking point."

Paul's mother, to my shock, didn't care that her child had committed a murder. She owed the man a lot of money and saw his death as clearing a debt. Instead, any emotional investment regarding the situation got dumped on to Paul. The income Paul's father once contributed was gone and she honed in on Reggie's money, but the protective sibling ensured she couldn't get her hands on it.

"Once she realized that Reggie's money was being 'wasted' on a little kid who 'won't remember skipping a few meals', her hatred of me just took off. She couldn't stand me before, but it escalated with her addiction."

"Were you an unplanned pregnancy too, Paul?"

"I was planned, just not by my mother. I was supposed to be Reggie's replacement. The ten-year-old who sang, baked cakes, and planted vegetables in the backyard wasn't what our father wanted."

Paul's father had forced his wife to conceive and carry a child she hadn't wanted. With everything the woman had done, empathy was hard to have for her. Still, no one deserved to be forced in to having children they didn't want.

"Imagine had you been born a girl..."

"Nobody wins. Everything was doomed from the start because two people who had no business raising children decided to put their parts together."

"Thanks for telling me, Paul."

"You need to think about when you're going to come with me to apply for your therapist."

The information Paul had disclosed couldn't have been easy to tell. He may have made it look easy, but I knew it couldn't have been. Understanding that, I decided to meet him half way and go. Paul did a lot for me and didn't ask much of me in return. The one time he was asking something big of me... he must have meant well. Or, it must have meant a lot to him.

Either way, it was a new pressure I wasn't sure how to brace myself for.

Xxxxx

The therapist worked out of a mental health clinic within Veilstone city. It was close to the community center that Alain worked at, actually. The first opening for an appointment was a morning that Maggie really needed Paul to work, be it the Diner was notoriously packed. So, Alain wound up taking me with him on his commute to work. We didn't say anything to one another. The last time I'd been in the car with him, when he had yelled at me, was honestly less awkward. The radio couldn't even cover it up.

"I'm sorry about Thanksgiving... I know it's a big deal to Reggie and I went and ruined it."

"Who said you ruined Thanksgiving?"

"It sort of feels that way. Everyone is walking on eggshells around me this week."

"If someone you knew was struggling with something sensitive and personal, would you know exactly what NOT say to them?"

"I mean... no. I guess not."

Alain took a sip from his thermos, the smell of pumpkin spice filling the car from the creamer Reggie had boughten for him. The biggest bottle they had to offer at the supermarket.

"We're giving you space because we don't want to make anything worse." Alain gave as a polite way of saying everyone was aware of how sensitive my deep emotional wound was. "There are things you just can't touch, good intentions or not."

"I have a hard time coping with my dad leaving."

"Mine shot his brains out. I get it."

Alain and Paul really were something else with how they spit things out. Fuck.

"I can't imagine going through that."

"My shit probably hurts the same as your shit. Break an arm, break a leg. They both need a cast. You didn't waste years of your life on a fucking needle, though. You've got the advantage."

"Right..."

Pulling up to the front door of my stop, Alain watched me unbuckle and get out. I turned to grab my backpack out of the front seat and Alain gave me his parting words of encouragement.

"I should have listened to Reggie years ago when he told me to come here...he doesn't steer people wrong."

"I know. Thanks... and thanks for the ride."

"When you're done here, Reggie can come get you. Call him up."

The office wasn't anything scary how I'd convinced myself it would be. It had a small waiting room with magazines and chairs lined up along the wall. A water machine sat in the corner with paper cups and a little trash can. The receptionist's fake nails clacked along a keyboard behind the glass window, her colorful blouse and earrings almost an eyesore. She smiled at me with bright red lips.

"Hi there, good morning. Do you have an appointment?"

"I do. With Cynthia."

"With Cynthia, alright. I'll let her know you're here."

Taking a seat in one of the chairs, I crossed my arms and looked around the room with no particular interest. My Dex buzzed and I pulled it from my pocket to see that Paul had sent me a message of reassurance. At least, I knew that's what it was supposed to be.

"You're stronger than you think." It read. "Don't forget I'll be home late tonight. Hang tight at Reggie's until I get back."

I didn't get to reply because my new therapist came walking in, her heels clicking the hardwood floor. Looking up, I saw a tall woman with long blonde hair that went far past her waist. Her suit was solid black, a yellow ascot around her neck. With soft, pale gray eyes she welcomed me to come with her and seated me on a small couch in her office.

"Ashton, is it?" She asked me. "That's a marvelous name."

"I prefer to be called 'Ash'... it's- it's just my name now."

The office chair she owned as a beautiful gray leather seat that swiveled. Matched the color and design of the couch I was on. Must have been a set. She leaned back in it and rested her hands in her lap.

"Are you fond of that nickname?" she asked me, intrigued. "You don't sound it."

"I'm used to it."

"If you don't like it, why not use your full name?"

"It's not really important. And, it's a stupid story, so..."

Cynthia shrugged.

"Everything you say has meaning."

"It's just a nickname."

"Then would you mind if I called you 'Ashton'?"

Without being able to help it, I grimaced. I tried answering her but found a lump in my throat. Cynthia nodded with understanding.

"There's a lot to a name, you know. It's who you are. More importantly, the name you choose to represent yourself to the world as says a lot about you."

"I never really thought it was that important. I just don't like my name."

"Why is that?"

"It's what my Dad named me."

The session had just begun and I already felt horribly outside my comfort zone. The expectation had been this new person would ask me questions about my life... not pick apart these little details I'd never paid any mind to. Ones that pissed me off more than I realized.

"Your father... is he a negative figure to you?"

"He abandoned me with my mother. She was crazy."

There was a sympathetic, but curious look to the woman seated across from me.

"When did this happen?"

"I was five. My mother had been committed to the psych ward and diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder."

Looking alarmed, Cynthia now took on a look of worry.

"You were told at five?"

"No. I had to sign off on a recent admission for psychiatric treatment this Summer... "I reassured her. "It was written in the treatment plan. I had no clue exactly what was wrong with her until then. She never accepted that there was something wrong with her, just everyone around her was the problem. So, she never spoke about her actual issues."

"That must have been difficult to grow up with."

"I don't like to think about it."

"It's my job to help you think about it, it won't do you any good to run from something your whole life."

I didn't feel like I was "running", per say. It felt easier to let the memory sit on a dark shelf somewhere in my head. Like an old book you once read and can't bring yourself to throw away, but can't bring yourself to open it again either.

"I'm not running from it. My mother abused me and my Dad, he... he left me with her. I don't pretend that it didn't happen. I don't think about it."

When my walls went up, Cynthia backed off enough to ease me in to another tough question.

"Do you miss your father?"

"I don't need him, anymore." I answered defensively.

"I don't recall asking you that."

The raised blonde brow that I got left me feeling exposed, like I'd been caught in the middle of a lie. The last person I met who picked me apart like her was Paul. Except, Cynthia doing it made me feel defensive and scrutinized in a way that Paul didn't. Like I was a Goldeen in a glass bowl looking back at something bigger than me. She spoke so calmly... I knew she cared. But, the superiority of her position as a therapist didn't make me want to be as honest with her as I should be.

I was scared... could she see through me like Paul could?

Could she see more than he did?

"Ashton-"

"Ash." I corrected her, again. "It's Ash."

She nodded, but didn't comment or apologize on the matter.

"Who called you 'Ash'?" She questioned, instead. "Since you're so committed to that."

"Everyone calls me Ash."

"Why?"

Spitting out the answer to make her stop, I told her why.

"Because, my mother hated what my father named me." Was my, what I felt to be, forcefully coerced explanation. "He let her choose my clothes, pre-school, bedroom. furniture, toys and just about everything else so long as she promised to let him pick the name. Didn't matter in the end because she'd yell at him for using it. So, now I'm Ash."

I held the arm of the couch, breaking eye contact with the therapist. She kept up her questioning so calmly, as if I wasn't making it clear I would have rather been anywhere but on that couch being picked open.

"See how important names are?" She reminded me. "You're an adult now and still have people call you 'Ash'."

"I don't see the big deal. My mother hated my name so she nicknamed me. "

"No, she renamed you."

"She did worse. I don't care that much about a nickname that stuck."

"I think you do. Why else would you be here putting walls up over a name? We're talking, and you think I'm attacking you."

The door to the office was shut, but it wasn't locked. There was nothing really stopping me from getting up and leaving, but I felt trapped. Sensing that, Cynthia turned to her desk and pulled open a drawer. She handed me a stress ball shaped like a poke ball.

"Here. Take this." she encouraged me. "It helps to relieve some of that tension."

"I really hate this, I'm sorry." I apologized, taking the ball. "I know you're doing your job but I really do feel so attacked."

"People who avoid their problems tend to feel that way. You're an anxious person, which doesn't help. After a while, hiding everything becomes a way of life. It's not something anyone wakes up and decides they want for themselves."

Squeezing the soft, foamy ball I cleared my throat. Cynthia shut the drawer to her desk and crossed a long leg over the other, the ends of her pantsuit brushing.

"Do you understand how your mother renaming you in spite of your father is damaging?"

"I still think there were worse things she did."

"She objectified you. You were a possession."

"I've been a possession for a long time. It's normal for me."

Cynthia queried who else in my life had degraded me to a possession. I went in to detail about Gary, particularly his warped sexual complex. How he was jealous and easily enraged. The narcissism. The manipulation.

"Everything was about him. He used to make me cry a lot. Not that I tell anyone that... everyone wanted to be him, it made me feel like I should have at least been grateful to be with him."

"Were you ever grateful to be with him? Or, remotely happy?"

"No... our relationship was based around sex, mostly. Because literally nothing changed from us being 'friends' to us being 'boyfriends' except for sex. He was cold and selfish... and mean."

"It sounds like you regret being with him."
"I do. I showed him compassion as kids and he used that opening to stab me in the back years later."

Explaining the death of Gary's parents as children and the afternoon under the apple tree and the swing, I bitterly enlightened her to the moment in my life I left myself open to Gary's claws.

"He was a mean little kid...he kept getting worse. But, my mother loved him. He was Mr. Perfect. She wanted me to be with him because I couldn't actually be him. I had no one else, so I let it happen."

"You wanted your mother's approval. And deep down, you probably wanted Gary's friendship. You traded yourself for those things."

"I'm an idiot, I know."

Tearing up, I wiped at my face. Cynthia nodded towards the tissue box on a nearby table and I grabbed a couple.

"His actions are a reflection of his weaknesses. Not yours. You being a kind-hearted, lonely person didn't justify anyone to hurt you. Your mother put you in a position very young that you learned early on that pleasing others mattered more than taking care of yourself."

I looked up at her and she smiled at the eye contact.

"Which by the way, didn't matter more. Your happiness should be your first concern."

"I have someone better in my life now. I care about myself more than I used to... but they matter to me, too. We're getting married this Summer."

"Congratulations." She praised me genuinely. "That's the first thing you've willingly shared this session."

Embarrassed about my enthusiasm over Paul, I tried reasoning that he was the only positive thing in my life.

"Really? The only positive thing?"

"He got me away from Gary, he severed my relationship with my mother, he got me a job working for his brother and an apartment-"
"He's done a lot. You've done a lot too."

"I haven't done anything."

Shaking her head in a gentle back and forth sway, Cynthia claimed I was just as much to be credited as Paul.

"You agreed to be a part of these choices, didn't you?"

"Of course, I did."

"Then you have to take credit for your part. You talk about him as if he fixed problems in your life. People cannot 'fix' one another, we can only lift each other up or push each other down."

I understood her point, Paul couldn't change my life for me. He wanted better for me but I had to want better for myself too. Maybe he planted the seed, but I had to help him water it for anything positive to come of it.

"I still feel like he's my better half. He's changed my life for the better. I met him and everything started rapidly changing."

"When every life meets another life, something will be born." Cynthia stated. "It's how you were born, how you met Paul, and why you're here now. One day, this will lead you somewhere else."

Light gray eyes glanced up towards the clock on the wall above me.

"We're just about out of time, Today. I look forward to seeing you next time."

Xxxxx

Reggie came to pick me up when I called him, but I didn't want to go home. I went back to the house with him and got to work grooming the Pokémon. He was appreciative of me fulfilling my job despite me having been given the option to take the rest of the week off.

"I've left you hanging for a few days, I'm better now." I promised him as a client's Roserade got a gentle mist of water along its petals from a spray bottle filled with diluted fertilizing treatment, "I like working here. It gives me a purpose."

The Roserade gave a little twirl and dance as I finished with the spray bottle and pulled out a small pair of shears meant for a bonsai plant. It happily leaned forward and let me snip away old ends.

"Alright, all set."

Putting the shears down, I held up a thin cloth and bottle of shine solution.

"I'll shine you up so you're nice and glossy. You'll be ready for your performance coming up."

On the kitchen table, Reggie had a few of the Pichu. He looked over some request forms submitted, The last trainer who had come and gotten a Pichu and given a positive review to others.

"You three have new homes to go to." Reggie congratulated. "You'll all be battling, looks like."

Identifying reservation tags were placed on each, clearly marking them for each trainer who would be coming to complete their transaction with Reggie.

"Pikachu are pretty popular." he told me, still thankful I had allowed him to breed mine when someone had originally wanted a Pichu to raise. "I'm happy to finally have some to offer."

"I love mine, I hope others love his babies."

"I'm sure they will. Look at them."

The Pichu toddled around the table, being adorably cute. One sniffed at a vase of flowers, another peeled a post-it note off the stack and flapped it around once it was stuck to his hand. The third Pichu tried helping but got it stuck to their face and began panicking. Electivire heard the commotion and came looking for which one of the babies had gotten himself in to trouble.

He growled when he saw the familiar reservation tagging Reggie had placed on them.

"They have good trainers arranged." Reggie consoled him. "They're going to be fine."

The large, disgruntled Pokémon wasn't appeased.

"Electivire." Reggie scolded as the large Pokémon gathered the Pichu in and scooped them up in to his arms possessively. "Hey. You know I'm sending them to good homes. You don't have to look after them forever, big guy."

Stomping away without any further time of day given to Reggie, Electivire huffed. Reggie carried on with the paperwork, giving a glance towards the kitchen entrance where Electivire had left with the babies.

"I don't think he's forgiven me for giving one of them away, already."

"They were bred to be given away... he must understand that even if he doesn't like it."

"He's attached to them. I don't think he cares either way whether or not they go to the best buyer or home."

"That's really cute, in a way. That big grump has a heart deep in there."

Remembering something, Reggie urged me to contact my friend Richie and ask him if his Pikachu would be available for breeding.

"...Is mine not suitable anymore?"

"Electivire is starting to put up a fight with giving your Pikachu's babies away. I'm not sure how much longer I'll get away with giving them away before he and I develop a problem... he really feels like they're his."

"Ooo... I understand what you're saying."

Messaging Richie, I asked him about lending Reggie his Pikachu for some breeding. I hadn't been able to get ahold of him recently. He was always messaging me back that he was busy with work when I wanted to hang out. So, when he replied back that he would drop by to see how Sparky felt about possibly creating babies, I was a bit floored.

"I'll find myself another ditto and we'll see how this goes." Reggie stated, looking over his clients who could provide him one. "This one is local and could drop it off. I'll owe them a discount next time they come around."

Pulling some strings, the Ditto was dropped off soon after Reggie made the phone call. Richie promised to come over after Dinner. When he arrived that Evening, I'd been on the floor playing with the Pichu and Pikachu.

"Hey, come here! I'm gonna get you! I'm gonna get you!"

Playfully swatting at them, they would jump around and whip their tails at me in return. Pikachu got over excited as I picked him up and nuzzled my face in to him.

"Got ya!"

"PIKACHUUUUU!"

"WAHHHH!"

Convulsing from the electrocution, I yelled. Reggie jumped up from the recliner, but Pikachu stopped. I fell back with Pikachu still in my hands and started laughing at his old antics. Reggie stood there looking at us, perplexed at how unfazed I was at getting shocked. That's when the doorbell rang. Richie and Sparky came in, Reggie taking Sparky away to acquaint him with the new Ditto. It left Richie and I in the living room, alone.

"It's good to see you." I told him, getting up, shaking off the static.

"It's good to see you, too."

"Work been killing you that bad?"

Richie was dressed no differently than usual, a pair of blue jeans and a green T-shirt. His cap was on, bill facing forward. He was clean and groomed... yet there was something so deflated about him. Something off. He looked like someone who hadn't seen the light of day outside his window for a while, similar to one who may emerge still recovering from a cold, or any sort of house-bound illness.

"I've had a lot on my plate, lately. I traveled back home last week for Thanksgiving, just got back yesterday."

"Your job let you take the time off? That's cool."

"Yeah,"

The person I'd known since childhood was standing before me almost like a stranger, shuffling his foot and looking at the carpeting as if it were interesting. Or, easier than looking at me.

"Richie... is something the matter?"

"I'm feeling off these days."

"Do you need anything from me? I know I'm not the best at taking care of other people but-"

"I've got it covered."

In the distance, Reggie could be heard calling out for the Ditto in the house. Richie looked up towards the second floor where Reggie's voice came from.

"Is it just you and Reggie around?"

"Right now, yes."

"Where's everyone else?"

"Reggie's boyfriend isn't home from work yet. Paul's working a double tonight, but it's up in the air whether he has to stay until closing. So, I don't know exactly when he's coming home. It'll be late, either way."

Richie stared at the ceiling for a bit longer then finally looked me straight in the face. He had the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes.

"Do you want to go hang out or something?"

"Uh, sure. We could hang out. What were you thinking?"

Richie said we'd figure it out. Before we left, one the Pichu ran up to my feet and tugged on my pants as if to beg me to stay and play.

"Electivire! Come get your babies, Man!"

He appeared and then the Pichu went running to him. Richie's mouth dropped a little.

"Why is he so big?"

"Reggie bred him for Paul."

"...Jesus, the two are perfect for one another."

Electivire sort of gave Richie a side eye and the brunette shivered.

"They have the same stare, too."

xxxxx

There was a park nearby that we went to for a walk. The street lights shone on us from overhead, the dry, brittle leaves crunching under our shoes. There was a bite in the air, December warning us it was on its way in without hesitation. Only a matter of days.

"I haven't been here, yet. It's nice. Cold out, but nice."

"Sparky likes the playground on the other side. He uses the swing set."

"The kids around here must love him."

"He's a ham for attention. He loves it."

Looking across the large park towards the playground area, there weren't any kids out playing since it was so late and after dark. But, I recalled the playground at my apartment complex. How children and their Pokémon played.

"There's a playground where I live. The kids there play with Pokémon all the time. You should come over one day with Sparky. He and Pikachu could keep the kids company while we do something. There's a pool, and game rooms. I don't know much about chess or pool but we could try it."

"... your place sounds fancy. Paul can afford that, huh?"

"He works for my grandmother. He does a lot for her and she pays him well."

"You two have got it all worked out, already. Good for you."

In the past, Richie had often been a cheerleader on my behalf in a sense. He always encouraged me to be happy, and in turn was happy for me with my small achievements. He was the only person I had who was proud of me graduating high school, in fact. His mother had a photo of us together on graduation day. My mother had only bothered to take one of Gary and I.

That same friend wasn't the one talking to me.

"Did I do something, Richie?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"You're acting weird..."

"I told you, I've been off."

"If there was something wrong, you'd tell me. Wouldn't you?"

He didn't have an answer for me. We walked by the big fountain in the park, a stone Mesprit spitting water out. Richie stopped to toss a penny in, staring as the coin hit the surface and sank down towards the bottom with other people's wishes. I couldn't help but wonder what he wished for with such a withdrawn, glum demeanor.

"Dude-"

"I'm moving back home."

"..."

The bomb was dropped, ticking as we both seemed to hold our breathes in sync. We glanced back at one another. Neither of us wanted to be the first to comment.

"...Ash?"

"What?"

"You don't have anything to say?"

"I don't know what to say. I'm really confused. Why are you leaving?"

He stared down that penny in the fountain.

"I don't think there's much here for me." he replied. "I uprooted my life to come here. What do I have to show for it?"

"You have a job here... I know you're living at an Inn but it's only been a few months. You'll find an apartment."

"That's not- never mind. I'm leaving next month. I want to be home before Christmas."

The chill in the air wasn't the breeze blowing by.

"You're mad." I observed. "Why are you mad?"

"I'm not mad."

"Yeah, you are. You're talking to me like I'm a complete stranger, not your best friend of eleven years"

"Maybe I thought you'd catch the hint one of those eleven years."

Richie's green eyes turned to me. There was sadness there... and resentment. But, mostly disappointment.

"What are you talking about?"

"I've loved you for a long time." he confessed, lips pulled back as he spoke so flatly. "It doesn't matter now, you're getting married. And, you're happy about it. I'm going home."

"You need to stop."

My best friend looked up at the sky, caught between laughing and rolling his eyes in disbelief.

"Stop what, Ash? Being honest? You jumped from one fucked up relationship to this random guy who came out of nowhere." he criticized me. "You know the guy how many months and yet, he's magically the one?"

"I love Paul... I love Paul so much."

"Good for you. Good for him. That's beautiful and romantic, and you two will have such a great story to tell one day about how you met each other sharing a discounted room. You know, hating each other's guts until probably deciding to fuck. Gary left me enough pissed off voicemails to rub it in my face, I know all about it. If he can't have you, he's just happy I can't either."

The last person on Earth I ever expected to get such grief from was Richie. He had it all stored away, somewhere. Throwing it in my face, no longer caring.

"He knows how much I care about you. He's always known. How did you not?"

"You want me to feel bad for falling in love? You were happy for me when I told you-"

"Are you even in love, Ash? Gary was the biggest prick this Earth has to offer. Anyone would seem better after that. Your precious Paul could have been literally anybody."

"It couldn't be just anybody!"

"No, wait. Almost anybody. Just not me. The only person who's been here for you the past eleven years. No big deal."

"Why are you doing this?"

Richie grew irate. He flailed his hands around as he tried to articulate his thoughts but gave up and grabbed me by the flaps of my sweatshirt.

"I love you." he reiterated. "I have loved you since we were KIDS."

So had Paul, but I didn't believe with anything that Richie would have given me the chance to explain that. That was our special bond... Paul and I had crossed paths far before Richie and I had. It didn't matter either way. I'd fallen in love with Paul.

"You're my best friend, Richie..." I apologized, taking his hands off of me. "I don't know what to say to you that will fix this."

"There is no fixing it, Ash. You're getting married. I'm too late. You want this, I can see it in you."

Richie shoved his hands in his pockets, eyeing the fountain scornfully. I placed mine under my arms.

"Where was all this anger when Gary proposed?"

"You didn't tell him 'yes'." He whispered. "And, you didn't keep his ring."

Xxxxx

Richie and I went our separate ways that night. He told me to have Reggie let him know when he could come back for Sparky, then left me to stand at the fountain alone. His head of brown hair grew farther and farther, I stood there staring at it. When he was out of sight, the first dustings of snow came drifting down.

I walked back towards Reggie's house, playing the night over in my head. Every time I revisited it, I couldn't make sense of it. Lost to the whirling mechanics of my mind, the car pulling up from behind me didn't register to me as alarming. The headlights blared and I turned as the car came to a stop.

"Baby, what are you doing walking all the way out here? It's late. Get in the car."

The car Paul was driving was black, sleek and most notably, new. It has the fresh car smell and everything.

"Did you buy this Today?"

"I did. I was going to surprise you Tomorow morning by driving you to Reggie's in the Morning but I couldn't leave you walking out here. It's dark and cold out."

Buckling in, I looked in the backseat still amazed he'd boughten a car. He hadn't worked late. He'd been at the dealership.

"I've been planning to buy one since the beginning of Fall." He said. "The weather's getting cold and we don't need to be walking around in the snow."

"You bought it just in time."

The light dusting of snowflakes speckled the windshield, warning us that the cold weather wasn't anywhere near what it would later become. Reggie had said something about the snow they got in Sinnoh being pretty heavy once it set in. I was going to need my actual coat and boots, soon.

"What were you doing walking around over here?"

"I was at the park with Richie. We went... separate ways."

I was doing a decent job of playing off what had taken place, mostly because I still hadn't efficiently processed what had happened. So, with that loophole working in my favor, Paul didn't pick up on anything amiss. We skipped going back to Reggie's, opting to text him Paul had picked me up and we were going home. As Paul drove, I stared down at my ring.

"Paul?"

"Baby?" he parroted back to me in the same tone.

"Could we bump the Wedding up to Spring?"

Xxxxx

With Paul having a car of his own now, he put a lot of value on me learning to drive in case I needed to use it. I took the exam for a learner's permit and spent a straight week having Reggie teach me how to drive his van after work hours. One of those days, Paul had been home from work and sat in the back seat.

We all came back inside the house, just as an argument between the Pokémon was erupting outside in the backyard. Richie's sparky and Paul's Electivire were glaring at one another, my Pikachu keeping the Pichu away. All of which were gathered behind Electivire.

"What's going on here?" Reggie asked as we all went to investigate. "What's all this?"

Electivire growled, electricity sparking up from his body. Sparky crackled right back, Electivire pointed towards Pikachu and the babies, growling out something to him. Sparky tried darting around him but was deterred by an arm coming down full force and almost striking him. Sparky had dodged it.

"Paul, your Electivire just tried to-"

"It was a warning strike. Had he wanted to hurt him, he would have landed the hit." Paul said. "That was brick break. He's well trained and knows exactly how to use it."

Sparky began yelling out, starting a shouting competition between the two. All of us stood back, watching. They were pissed, and we had no idea what was going on. Sparky tried taking a step towards Pikachu and Electivire went to strike, again.

"I guess they are together." Reggie announced, still watching the scene unfold.

"...That's kind of a jump." I challenged, meekly. "Are you sure?"

My Pikachu tried conveying something to Electivire, presumably to calm him down. But, he was set on Sparky and keeping him away. More banter from my Pikachu, in a pleading whine, and Electivire gave a final huff to Sparky and went to console the Pichu who had gotten stressed from the conflict. Spark ran up to them and this time when Electivire threw a punch, it hit.

Sparky went flying across the yard.

He landed in the frosty grass, dazed and unmoving. There was pained squeak and my Pikachu went running to him quickly.

"Pi! Pika pi!"

Electivire stayed where he was, watching as Pikachu fussed over Sparky. Pressing a red cheek to his, Pikachu gave him a few jolts of electricity.

"What is he doing to sparky?"

"It's an affectionate gesture. Look."

Sparky leaned in to the gentle zaps, shutting his eyes as Pikachu licked at his friend's fur soothingly. Electivire seethed. He took a step forward and Pikachu was yelling at him. Electivire began arguing back and the two grew enraged. Reggie stepped in, coming to get Sparky.

"Let's get you rested. These two will sort their squabble out."

Leaving with Sparky, Reggie gave Electivire a disappointed warning.

"This wasn't necessary."

As Reggie left, Pikachu ignored Electivire. He gathered up his babies to follow him and the group left. Effectively given the cold shoulder, Electivire stood there. Paul cleared his throat. Electivire didn't turn.

"Are you deaf, nowadays?"

Shamefully, Electivire peered over his shoulder at Paul. Paul gave him a disapproving glare.

"What the hell was that about? You out of your mind?" he scolded. "Reggie warned you last time you lost your cool this shit won't slide, again."

Electivire understood what Paul was telling him. He waited to be dismissed.

"Go." Paul ordered him. "Now that you've made a fool out of yourself, go find somewhere to think about it. Come back when you remember how to act."

The Pokémon walked away.

"He's done this before?"

"He's lost his temper before, yes. He knows better."

Inside the house Reggie was nervously applying cold compresses to Sparky. Pikachu had the Pichu snuggled up on the couch, watching as his friend received aid.

"How is he?" Paul asked.

"No better than the last Pokémon he did this to. Definitely a concussion. One hit... the poor thing can't see straight."

"I'm sorry, Reggie."

Reggie gathered Sparky up to take him to the Pokémon center to make sure everything was okay.

"Electivire's Poke ball is in my desk." Reggie reminded Paul. "If anything happens, put him away."

"I sent him to cool off."

Pikachu jumped off the table to sit with his babies on the couch as Reggie left with Sparky. I went to see them, sitting on the floor by the couch. There were seven Pichu, all boys except for one. She was the only one who wouldn't nap. She wiggled her way out from her piled brothers and went running for the back door, which was still left open in our haste to get outside.

"Woah, hey! Come back!" I called out after her as Pikachu hesitated to leave the sleeping siblings to chase after their sister. "Hey! Pichu!"

Paul heard me yelling, catching a glimpse of me as I ran by the stairs on my way outside. He had been half way up the steps, going to get Electivire's poke ball.

"Ash? What are you running for?"

The Pichu was ahead of me, running in the yard. She jumped and avoided any nearby Pokémon who tried to intervene and grab her. A Bibarel and Staraptor both bumped heads with one another as they each dove in at the same time, Pichu evading them and landed on a Swalot whose belly she simply bounced off of. She made it past the backyard, running out of bounds and in to the woods.

"Get out of there! Pichu, that isn't safe!"

Meanwhile, I couldn't hear Paul yelling the same thing at me.

Pichu was set on running towards something. She came to a small clearing in the woods, letting me catch up to her. She sniffed the air, calling out. There was a rustle in the foliage, then Electivire appeared. Pichu squeaked happily at her father, beginning to run towards him. But we all froze as there was a loud stomping approaching.

"What's that?"

An Ursaring appeared, growling at Electivire. When it spotted me, it became pissed and roared. Scraping the ground with a paw warningly, the Ursaring honed in on me. I made eye contact with Electivire and he urged me with his arms to get out of the way. I scooped up the Pichu and ran for a bush, hiding as the Ursaring came running. Electivire charged forward and blocked it with his body.

There was a loud clashing as the two went at it. They snarled at one another, knocking each other in to nearby trees, old branches falling from them. Peeking out, I saw the Ursaring get swiped across the stomach with claws. Electivire punched the Ursaring back, right across the face. As they fought, I kept an ear out for any other wild Pokémon that may have been as unwelcoming towards wandering humans in the forest.

So, when something crept up on me in the bushes I began to scream. A hand clamped over my mouth.

"Ash, it's me."

Holding me back against his chest, Paul kept a hand over my mouth.

"Listen to me carefully." he instructed me. "You're going to keep quiet and crawl out of here. Go first, I'll be right behind you. "

I set the Pichu down to run ahead and followed it, per Paul's instructions to crawl away. When Paul felt we were far enough away that the Ursaring wouldn't come looking, he told me to stop. Our hands and knees were wet from the frosty grass, fingers going numb. Paul and I got up and the Pichu pawed at my ankles for me to pick her up. Tucking her away in my sweatshirt, I ensured she would be warm.

"That Ursaring was pissed... it laid eyes on me and wanted to attack." I told Paul. "How did you know we were all the way out here?"

"I came looking for you when I saw you run out of the house. I thought you knew better than to run in to the woods out here."

"... I was chasing Pichu. It went looking for Electivire. Is he going to be okay back there?"

"He better be. If he can't take down that Ursaring, there's no reason for him to come back."

The commotion in the distance continued until there was a pained cry from what sounded like the Ursaring. It was confirmed to be the Ursaring when Electivire's victorious, rumbling roar came through the trees. Paul went to investigate, making me wait for him to give the cue it was safe to follow.

"All clear."

Following the path back to Paul and Electivire, I found Paul standing over the Pokémon on the ground. His scratches were seeping blood, but he was sitting up and panting. The Ursaring was out cold, bloodied worse than Electivire.

"You getting up?" Paul asked him. "You were always stronger than that Ursaring"

Electivire tried standing, face strained with pain.

"Get up. Don't get weak on me."

Still trying, Electivire struggled. He stopped trying, trying to gather his strength.

"Paul, he's bleeding..."

"That's no excuse."

Pichu crept out from my sweatshirt to run up to Electivire's face. The Pokémon gave Electivire little zaps of encouragement, squeaking and pushing at his cheek trying to coax him to stand up. Electivire sighed, tiredly. He stood up, but fell over on to his back and shut his eyes in exhaustion.

Pichu burst in to tears.

"We can't leave him here. He'll bleed to death."

"He shouldn't have let my old Ursaring land that many hits, then."

Paul pulled out a poke ball from his pocket then picked the crying Pichu up.

"But, he saved you. And, he has a family now."

Drawing Electivire back in to his Poke ball, Paul promised him he'd get him to the Pokémon Center.

Xxxxxx

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Ash and Pichu had an encounter with my old Ursaring in the woods. Electivire stepped in. Everyone's okay... except Electivire."

"That Ursaring is still hanging around? You let that Pokémon go such a long time ago."

Reggie sat in the emergency services department of the Pokémon center. One leg crossed over the other, he had been waiting to hear back from the staff about Sparky. Hearing about Paul's old Ursaring struck him as odd.

"It's got a grudge. I think it hates people now... didn't like Electivire much, either."

"Leave Electivire here with me, you two can leave."

Reggie signed Electivire in for care and insisted we could go so we wouldn't be held up there in the Pokémon emergency services.

"You want to sit here by yourself all day?" I asked him.

"No, but I'm already stuck here for Sparky until your friend shows up."

"Richie's coming?"

"I called him on my way over here. He should be here soon."

In through the automatic doors came Richie. He went right past us all to the Nurse Joy working the front counter. She told him that Sparky was still being evaluated. Reggie called Richie over to talk to him about what had happened. When Richie learned that Electivire attacked Sparky in a romantically-fueled jealousy, he laughed bitterly.

"Electivire is yours." he told Paul.

"He is."

"You're not going to apologize?"

The passive aggressive jab left Paul on the defense. He narrowed his eyes challengingly.

"What do I have to apologize for? It isn't my fault your Pokémon doesn't understand boundaries."

"BOUNDRIES?"

"Sparky stepped in on something he had no business stepping in on. So, yes. Boundaries."

"Maybe Sparky was actually there first and your big ass Electivire should have backed offand went back to wherever he came from!"

Seeing as the last statement was coming from a place that absolutely nothing to do with the Pokémon, Richie stopped. People nearby were listening in, so he stormed away and let Reggie know that he would be taking Sparky back.

"You can leave now. I'm sorry it didn't work out because of your brother's stupid Pokémon." he told Reggie. "Ash, I'm going back home tomorrow. I've had enough of Sinnoh. Goodbye."

Before Richie could storm away out of earshot, Paul felt the need to tell him something.

"The wedding got bumped up to Spring. Guess we won't be seeing you there."

"Fuck you, Paul."

xxxxx