A/N:

Alright, so this one really is the shortest chapter. I dislike posting something that is only 3.5 - 4,000 words, but I start/end chapters based on the events that happen - which is why the tournament chapter was well over 18,000 words. Sorry, but a smaller chapter was necessary here due to a transition in the plot - a transition that you all are probably aware of due to the last chapter. Anyways, enjoy reading, and know that, by the time you've read this, I'm hard at work on the next one.

I don't own pokémon, or any of the franchises associated with this story. All I own are my characters.

As always, special thanks to Lunar Knight Archangel for beta reading the chapters, and for helping me improve in terms of grammar/spelling in general, and thanks to Umi x3 for offering pointers for lemon scenes and plot stuff.

Again, I would also like to thank each and every one of you readers. This story has almost reached triple digits across the board - reviews, favorites, and followers. Also, we are getting close to 20,000 views. None of this would have ben possible without you all, so thank you for supporting this story.

If you enjoy reading, please consider leaving a review. I always enjoy your all's feedback.

"…" - Spoken dialogue

Italics - Michael's thoughts

'Italics' - Telepathic dialogue

/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene


"Everything that you are going through is preparing you for what you asked for."

-Unknown


Ch. 17 - Preparing for the Storm

He couldn't do it any longer. The broken Reaper had tried - really, he had - to continue on, but the resort that had given him so many wonderful memories now only served as a luxurious prison. Now what he needed was to get back - back to the people that could help him, and maybe shed some light on the whole situation.

Michael stood in the lounge, waiting for the others to finish eating their final meal at the resort before they caught the next flight for Blackthorn; that is, provided that Wesley had processed his last-minute travel request and granted him clearance. It would be no use in him even being in the cafeteria - there wasn't any way he'd be able to stomach food, nor tolerate the noisy atmosphere around them. All he wanted was to wait in silence, away from everything.

The Commander had been right - the news had crushed his very soul, completely ruining any chance of him continuing his carefree, lighthearted vacation. He had hardly uttered a word since the night before, aside from requesting a refund for all the time that he would no longer be spending at the resort. One thing had gone well - the staff had been kind enough to return the money to his account.

His girls tried to comfort him, tried to tell him that everything would be alright. As though they weren't worried themselves. In some sickening sense of irony, their mate had been risking his life to destroy the very creation of his own father. Part of him still doubted what he had heard earlier; despite the overwhelming evidence that Razor had presented - trade routes, dates, and even bits and pieces of the algorithm - Michael still hoped that somehow, it was all a misunderstanding. Michael and his father… well, he knew that their relationship could be better, to say the least. After all, he, similarly to Alex, lacked what many others had growing up. Whereas others came home from school and were able to talk about their day with their parents over dinner, Michael was restricted to video chatting. As frequent as he had done this, though, it couldn't replace the real thing, and soon, he became more detached from his own parents.

But that didn't mean that this realization had been painless. How could the very person - the man who had hypocritically talked to him of morality - use his skills for such business? Hell, the same days that he was instilling religious values within his son, Ethan Higgs was selling people's bodies. As despicable as the drug market was, or the selling of illegal weapons, these stood nothing against human trafficking; that was a special sort of evil on its own. The very evil that he had signed up to put an end to. But yet the organizer of this evil… no, he couldn't bear to think about it. He needed to know for sure, which was why he was going back.

A vibration from his pocket; his phone was ringing. The call he had been waiting for. He took it out without looking and accepted the call. "Am I good to go?" he asked emotionlessly.

"Yeah, as long as you head straight back here." No surprise there; the Reapers couldn't simply travel wherever the hell they wanted without telling someone. It was one of the rights they had forfeited. "There'll be a helicopter waiting for you at the airport. You are to head straight there upon arriving."

"Alright." He hung up at that point; he'd heard what he needed to hear. All of their luggage fit within the two duffel bags and backpack they had brought it in, ready to be taken to the airport. The sounds of approaching footsteps registered to him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"You girls ready?" he asked. His tone was flat; the usual happiness that he exuded was now gone. They nodded, but nobody said a word. Silence was going to be prominent for awhile. He returned four of them to their balls; before he could do the same for Alaina, she closed the distance between the two of them, giving him a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "What you're going through… is something that no one should ever have to deal with…" For a moment, he simply stood there, but eventually he returned her embrace, albeit weakly.

…..

He tossed his bags onto the shelves overhead, taking his seat by the window. Michael couldn't help but stare at one particular item within his luggage. The locked, black case that contained his Smith - the very gun that his dad had given him.

The door shut, and pretty soon, the powerful engines whirred to life. Fortunately, there weren't many people on board the flight, giving him a calm enough atmosphere to run over his troubled thoughts. All this time… was I really fighting my own father? It hurt even to think that the answer to that question might be yes. How could he? The very thought of trafficking and drugs flowing through his family sickened him. And to think, that the very money that may have been gained off of selling young girls into sex slavery could very well have paid for his education…

"Come on man," Zeke said, placing his hand on Michael's shoulder, "it ain't good for you to bottle it all up. Talk about it - I'm here." He appreciated the fact that the zoroark had also prematurely ended his own vacation to be there for his friend; the gesture served to remind Michael that, aside from his girls, there were people he could trust to always be there for him. He figured that he owed that much to Zeke to voice his thoughts on the matter at hand.

"I don't… I don't know what to say," Michael said quietly. "I feel betrayed… disgusted… and pissed the fuck off. H-how could he? My own fucking father…" Zeke stayed silent, listening to Michael vent his frustration. "I swear to Arceus, Razor better have been lying when he said all that shit."

"Michael… I think we both know…" He didn't need to finish; they both did know. But there was at least a chance, right? Razor was a criminal - he had no morals and values. Or at least, only a few. He wouldn't think twice about ruining the lives of others for his own personal gain. After all, he had done that throughout his career. But he would tell the truth if he had something to gain from it. And this time, he did have something to gain, or rather, something to keep - his life. And to top it all off, Michael knew Commander Hawkins well enough to know that he wouldn't needlessly cause him all this worry without tirelessly checking the validity of the newly gained information. As soon as Wesley had informed him, they were likely certain that Ethan Higgs was in fact a ringleader in the organization that they had fought to demolish.

"…I still need to be sure. I need to know for myself." He paused for a moment, reflecting on what he had done as a Reaper to the traffickers that they encountered, the people that were involved in this sort of market. The answer was simple and brutal - they killed them on sight. The less of them alive, the better. Giovani was right in his statement - some of them very well could change their ways, but that would require years of therapy and millions in taxpayers' dollars, as well as the capture of the criminals rather than the immediate disposal of them. But they couldn't even remotely pretend to stand for what was right if they risked dozens upon dozens of innocent lives in order to save one criminal. All of this led him to one single though: Could he do the very same thing to his father? It would be inconsistent with his previous actions and ideals if he couldn't… "What do you think's gonna happen, Zeke?" The zoroark stared at him for a moment before responding.

"Do you want the truth?" No, he didn't want the truth… but he needed it.

"Yes."

"You know very well what's gonna happen. Their gonna take him in, and he'll never see the light of day again…" And as far as the house... The house would probably be stripped down to the very foundations; surely there must be a plethora of crucial information within those walls.

"So I guess that's just it then," Michael said. "Everything's gone now…"

"No," Zeke quickly responded, "you're wrong about that. You've got all of us - your pokémon, the Reapers, and me. If we aren't your family, I don't know who is." Michael nodded in understanding.

"Thanks Zeke. That means a lot." Though he was far from content, it did help to know that he had such supportive friends. He laid his seat back as the plane began to take off; maybe, with any luck, he would be able to catch up on some much needed sleep.

…..

The helicopter began its decent within the white, northern mountains. The setting sun caused for the large, automatic gate to reflect a shimmer of light in the midst of the snow-covered peaks. It had seemed like years since he and the girls had stepped foot here. So much has happened since then… As they drew close to the landing pad on top, the familiar steelix was visible, coiled up in front of the entrance in the very same spot that Michael had remembered months ago.

They landed, softly touching the ground as the rotor overhead died down. The Commander was waiting for them at the edge of the helipad, and approached the helicopter as the door opened. Michael stepped out, and was immediately met with the stinging cold - a very unwelcome change, considering they had just left the beaches of Cianwood. Well, at least Elise will enjoy it here… "Come on - inside." Michael released the girls, and they all followed Wesley.

Once they were inside the colossal mountain base, he was led to the debriefing room, to which the girls waited outside. Wesley took a seat at the end of the table, motioning for Michael to do the same. A lone, vanilla folder sat at the edge. "No doubt you've come here to talk this over," the Commander started. "What do you wanna know?"

"You've looked into this, right? Is it all true?" Wesley sighed.

"The day that Razor spilled, our intelligence was all over your father. I mean, of course they'd be - for all we knew, this was the guy responsible for a lot of the shit we've been fighting against."

"And? What'd you find?"

"We watched him for a full day - New Years Eve. Your father… he's a busy man, that's for sure. Collected mail from four post offices. Upon gaining access to their security footage, we learned that he had a different name for each one. That raised some questions. Before he could head back to his house, we had sent a guy to check things out. Went through his office and took some pictures." He opened the folder, took a single picture out, and slid it to Michael.

"A map?" It was of a large, stretched out map of Kanto on the wall. It had lines drawn across it, and Michael recognized the trigonometry being worked out on the side. Small, barely legible handwriting could be found over the entire paper. Some pins here and there, as well as a few dark, bolded lines. Some through forests, some through grasslands…

"This map… contains all of the routes that we've discovered the past several months…" He took out another photo, setting it right beside the first. The last shred of doubt within Michael had been stripped away. The two maps, aside from his father's notes, were an identical match. "And these," he continued, "are files that we recovered from the Power Plant." It was a monthly budget sheet, with figures paired with various different expenditures. At the very bottom was a short note. The deal has been made with Wilkins. He's assured us that public eyes will be kept away from the Plant for the next few weeks. You should be in the clear. Go on and proceed with the draining procedure. -The Accountant. Ethan Higgs had been doing business with the very people that had nearly killed his own son's mate, as well as several other legendaries.

"Well… shit…" he muttered defeatedly.

"I'm sorry son, but we can't wait around any longer. You of all people understand that."

"Yeah…" The fact that people were being sold meant that they had to move quickly. "When are you gonna do it?"

"We'll be sending a member of the Twenty-third in there to subdue him." Immediately, a request sprung up within Michael. He wouldn't be able to leave without asking.

"Let me be the one," he said. Wesley seemed shocked to hear this, but shook his head.

"No, that wouldn't be a good idea. This is too much of a personal matter for you."

"Damn right it's personal - he's my father."

"Which is why it wouldn't be professional. I couldn't expect you to carry out your duties as normal."

"My very first mission - that was a personal one for me. That was the very man I had signed up for. If I did what needed to be done then, then I can do it now." For a moment, Wesley said nothing, clearly thinking over the proposition. It definitely wouldn't be easy to cancel a mission from another Commander at the last minute. "See, he's already expecting me to come over. Maybe a little bit later, but… we don't have time, as you said. But most of all… this is my fight. I need to be the one to talk to him - to bring him in."

"Alright," Wesley relented. "I'll have to pull a few strings, but I think I'll be able to do it. Be ready to engage tomorrow."

…..

Tomorrow… He would confront the man that had been responsible for so much suffering. It crushed his very soul to consider how many lives had been utterly ruined thanks to his own father. But yet he couldn't make sense of it all. Why would he do such a thing? Most criminals were in such a business for the same reason that Razor had admitted to - money. But Ethan Higgs, despite his fortune, didn't give money a second thought. It meant nothing to him. So what other reason could there possibly be for engaging in this sort of market? It just didn't make sense. Whatever the reason was, he would find out tomorrow.

At the moment, he sat on the couch within his quarters, contemplating what may come of tomorrow's rather grotesque reunion. The plan was relatively simple - Michael would show up in a standard army uniform, wearing a body camera discreetly in place of one of the buttons. He would try to get his father away from the house so that he would not have the chance to destroy any evidence; shortly after Ethan Higgs was apprehended, soldiers would quarantine the neighborhood and the house would be searched for intel.

He felt something brush into his leg. Elise looked up at him questioningly, to which he patted the spot beside him. She hopped up, and it wasn't long before the others joined them. "Well? What'd you learn?" Layla asked.

"My father…" he sighed, "well, it was all true. Even worse than I was hoping. He's running the show, it seems like. Hawkins showed me some documents that they recovered from the Plant. He… he was the one that administered the draining that almost killed you, Alaina…" The latias's eyes went wide in shock, but she quickly composed herself.

"Well… it turned out for the best, I guess," she muttered, before flashing him a small smile. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have met you…"

"Thanks, love." Her gentle words always seem to be just what he needed to hear. Most of all, he was glad to hear that, despite what his own kin had done to her and other legendaries, she held nothing against him. "But still… he needs to be dealt with. That's why I'm going over tomorrow to get him."

"Even though he's your father, you're still going to take him on?" Charlotte asked.

"…It's for that very reason that I need to."

"Well whatever happens… whatever goes down, we will always be here for you," Charlotte stated.

"Now," Alaina said, "enough of all this. You're going to need all the rest you can get. But before that, we are going to the cafeteria. You haven't eaten anything all day, and I'm not letting you settle down until you have."

She stood by her word, too. The latias had stayed practically glued to his side, making sure that he got what she considered adequate. Almost as though he was a child. He couldn't help but laugh at the treatment he was receiving, which was good - at this time, a little humor would serve him well. Especially considering what was about to come.

…..

Michael stepped out of the SWAT van, with Wesley and the girls staying inside. They were parked a couple of blocks away from the house, concealed within the nearby woods. A screen on one of the several computers lining the inside displayed the footage from the camera hidden on him - they would be watching every move. A single earpiece was concealed within his left ear; the Commander had agreed to stay silent for out of the mission, only speaking if completely necessary. In his left pocket, a set of cuffs rattled slightly every time he moved.

The Commander offered him a pistol - a compact Beretta 92. "No thanks," he said, tapping the revolver holstered to his side. "I've got this one covered. It won't have to come to anything like that anyways. And if push comes to shove, I can take him."

"Alright," Wesley said. "Keep in mind that there will also be reinforcements nearby. It won't take them long to get to you, worst case scenario." The worst case scenario was far from what they needed, though.

With his final preparations having been made, Michael was ready to go. Alaina drifted over to him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "Be careful, alright?"

"I'll do my best." He ran his hand along her neck, relishing the feeling of his fingers coursing through her silky down. "With any luck… I'll be bringing him back here…" He took a last look at his girls, who were silent as they stared back at him. Flashing them a forced smile, he shut the doors of the van. He straightened the collar of his fake uniform and headed on his way.

Wild cherry trees and faintly familiar houses stretched along the path to his former house, everything affected by the touch of winter. Thin layers of snow crunched under his feet as he trudged towards his destination. Despite the frigid air, though, the cold didn't register to him.

The large, gray Silverado was not present in the driveway. He might not be home. A single look at the house dismissed that idea - light could be seen from the window on the far right side of the house. The office. Well, I guess that answers that. Mom must've taken the truck... Slowly, Michael walked towards the door. What was in reality a few yards seemed at that moment to stretch out into miles. Come on Michael, you've got this… You've taken on swarms of enemies before… This is one guy we're talking about. One man…

If only it were so. All the others had been targets. Random enemies - to him, without names, sometimes even without faces. But not this time. He stood in front of the door to a now unfamiliar house. It was time. He had to overcome his hesitation and do what needed to be done. With a deep breath, he knocked on the door. A quick glance to the side - a ruffle in the blinds of the office room. He could hear the faint sound of footsteps grow louder as he instinctively tapped his revolver. Easy now… A click, followed by a second of silence. The door opened, revealing none other than the man himself.

"Hello son."


A/N:

That sums up this shorter-than-usual entry. As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated, so please consider leaving a review to voice your thoughts if you enjoyed reading.