CW: Horror elements, depression, trauma,

"No choice now, it's too late
Let him go, he gave up
I gave up"

"Alone Together" from Is This It by The Strokes

Light trickled through the forest canopy that coated the hill, both sprinkled in a twinge of amber as the day turned to evening, and the season turned to fall. A shallow creak cut through the treeline, a guide for a lone pikachu, Max. Faintly yellowed bandages wrapped his forepaws, but the purple scarf draped around his neck had none of the same marks of wear. While he trudged up the hill, pants between his breaths, an echo of a limp threatened to return. He grit his teeth to force a balanced gait.

The soothing balm of forgetting eliminated the memory of the injury, but it couldn't heal the wound; in this instance, forgetting caused the wound. "I never should've left the Dungeon," he grumbled.

You never should have entered it.

Breath hissed out of the side of his mouth. A forepaw ran along the strap attaching his satchel to his torso. More palpable and real than any of the memories from the Dungeon. Of course, that was the point. He thought the idea no mystery dungeon could completely eradicate the self of someone was just a quaint adage, but he and the belongings he failed to let go of lived to prove it. He shook his head.

The stream beside him burbled worthlessly, but he could use the sounds as a distraction. He hoped it lead to a deeper body of water to bathe in, but he'd used streams before. His tender leg throbbed again, which only got worse when he yanked it up and got it caught on some grass. "Shit!" he shouted while he tumbled to the ground, his scarf barely staying on. He rolled to the side and clutched his leg as it pulsed with pain, letting more obscenities flow.

Times like these reminded him pikachu usually at least dabbled in walking on all fours, but he'd never gotten used to that posture. He'd hoped that habit would die in the Dungeon, but luck wasn't ever really in his corner.

He bit the bandage on his right forepaw to yank it loose, then used his left to unravel it the rest of the way. There were fresh bandages in his bag, but he didn't have enough to justify putting them on just to take them off in a few minutes when he got to bathe. He took a deep breath in, and let a long breath out. This wasn't going to be fun.

His ankle throbbed the moment he pulled the bandage around it, but he grit his teeth instead of yelling. He didn't want someone to hear it and waste their time coming to help. He'd wasted enough helpful people's time. Having wrapped this injury multiple times already, he finished it almost autonomously. Secure, just tight enough to be uncomfortable: perfect. He got up slowly, carefully tested putting some weight on his—it still hurt, it hurt a lot.

Deep breath in. Long breath out. The pond was close.

He tugged the scarf back around his neck and got to limping. "C'mon," he gasped. "Almost there." The incline graciously flattened, letting him walk that little bit easier and glance at the source of the stream. "Jackpot." Despite the pain, he rushed the final bit over to the spring with a hint of a smile. The smile didn't last long. The edge of the water dropped down without a slope, stairs, anything. He couldn't tell exactly how deep it was, but it was deeper than he wanted to risk.

I tried to tell you to bring floaties.

"Whatever," Max mumbled, dropping his bag against an especially tall rock beside him. At least it had a border of rocks he could sit on instead of scratchy grass. After a bit of digging through his bag, he pulled out a little cup with the remains of a bar of soap inside and an oran berry, tossed the scarf mostly inside the bag, and got to washing. He let out a relaxed sigh while the water washed over him, soothing his sore muscles. It wasn't a hot spring, but it held onto enough of the heat from an entire day of sun to be pleasantly warm. He scarfed down the oran and used the water to wash it down with one paw while the other got the soap wet and scrubbed it into his fur.

The soap did its job, dissolving the buildups of dirt, gunk, and sweat hiding under his fur. He used his paws to scrub the grime away where necessary, and used the soap to smooth out the little massages he could do in his particularly tender muscles to help the oran's healing along.

Once he'd covered himself completely in suds, he let it soak in for a moment. It didn't do much besides feel nice, but that's all he really wanted. For old time's sake, he took a look at his reflection in the water. "More of the same," his mumble morphed into a chuckle. The suds covered his face and fur completely, aside from his eyes. A notably more pleasant sight than normal. It hid his scars, wounds; the weariness around his eyes, the mouth that lost its smile; all the blemishes that reminded him the past existed.

Upset your actions had the audacityto have consequences?

He shook his head before he could think about it more. He grabbed the cup and started washing off the suds when his ear twitched. A sound. Grass, crunching under paw—one two, one two, one two,—bipedal. Short, stout. He was still half covered in soap, but he could wash it away in the stream lower down on the hill, so he dashed to where he came from and hid behind a tree.

Stop. Listen. The pawsteps didn't change course; he let out a sigh of relief. Whatever it was, the assailant hadn't noticed him. He took another breath and peaked around the tree to watch it approach—his bag. The soap, the mug, he forgot to grab any of his belongings. Maybe he had enough time to run back and grab—a totodile walked into the clearing from the side opposite him. He turned back around and lightly slammed the back of his head against the tree.

You could always just talk to the kid.

Max shook his head. They would see his weary eyes, hear his broken voice, feel the absence of his forgotten joy; he could risk a lot, but he wouldn't risk even a moment of vulnerability. He wanted solitude, not to risk burdening someone else with his baggage.

He had hoped to set up camp in this place, but someone coming around regularly ruined that plan. An attack could easily give the totodile a reason to stay away… but it could also seriously hurt them. He'd only gotten a glance at them, but a first stage water type might not be strong enough to handle it. Besides, they hadn't done anything wrong. Max didn't want to hurt someone for no reason.

Push the little shit into the spring. They'll live, but probably won't be happy.

"Perfect," Max mumbled. The totodile got to the spring and dipped a toe into it. He watched as their smile faltered slightly into a twist of discomfort, but then came back just as fast. They shrugged and bounced around the shore—on the side opposite of Max's stuff. Paws plopped, one after the other, side to side, around the spring to the other side. Max could hear them humming some kind of tune, but didn't recognize it in the slightest.

A smile forced its way across his lips, and he had to stifle a chuckle.

Is the threat to your very self and soul perhaps a little bit cute?

"Shut it," Max whispered. He forced his eyes shut and shook the smile away. The totodile had made it to the creak on the same side as Max, so the chu started his plan. They sat on the rocks to hang their hindpaws in the water.

Max measured his breath to keep it quiet. He walked along the creak to mask the sounds of his approach he couldn't completely eliminate. Step by cautious step, he got closer and closer, the totodile none the wiser. Half-way there, Max could make out the lyrics of the tune.

"Water, why won't you cool down?" Max grit his teeth to try and ignore them. "A warm swim makes totos frown." Just a few more steps left. "Cold water is good for me." He was close enough. He could rush them. Max started to dash. "Warm water just feels like—is that a bag?" In less than an instant, the totodile had ducked and turned out of Max's way.

The push turned into a desperate grab to halt his momentum, but he couldn't get a grip. The water consumed him while he tried to gasp in one last breath. Water choked its way down his throat. Coughs spewed out any breath he had and threatened to fill his lungs with water instead. His paws rushed to hold in what little air they could, but there wasn't any left.

He looked up to find the surface, but only found the walls and floor. The fall had spun him around too much to keep up with up. He turned around in search of light, only to see darkness creeping around the edge of his vision. His struggles slowed. His limbs got heavier. He reached up to the surface. His head hit the floor. One last cough let out the last bubble of water he had. The warm water went cold.

Max let go; paws wrapped around him and held tight. Air surrounded him, but couldn't get past the water filling his throat. Grass tickled his cheeks. A devastating weight Max couldn't feel smashed into his back and forced the water out. His lungs desperately gasped in what air they could get, but it brought more water as well as air. Heaves wretched out of him, hacking out every bit of water he could, while he fought to get in air.

His vision returned, as did the feeling in his body. His throat stung, lungs burned, limbs hurt, eyes seared. Every sense that returned brought an all new form of pain. The burbling of the water blasted his ear drums; the fading light stabbed at his eyes; the fear of death crushed his chest worse than drowning had. That fear tore at him especially bad, worse than he'd felt in a while. It felt like it would never end, but the eternity came to a sluggish conclusion as he gasped in enough air to collapse. Heaves turned to hiccoughs, only slightly more bearable. That fear persisted, but he couldn't think of it too much. He lived. He fucking lived.

"Are you okay?" He instantly knew why his fear had been so bad. The totodile—that sweet, kind little croc—just saved his life. The very same one he didn't want to burden with a greeting had just pulled him out of the jaws of death, and now they were worried about his own wellbeing. What could he possibly do to make up for that.

A simple 'thank you' would probably do.

Max forced his jelly-limbs to jump up, facing the totodile just long enough to shock them and turn back around to run away.

An ice pick slammed its way into Max's head to wake him up. He groaned in pain and reached up to yank whatever assaulted his head… and felt nothing but fur. A headache, obviously, and his dry throat gave him a good guess as to why. Luckily, a source of water wasn't far off. In fact, it flowed over his hindpaws.

"Water!" he shrieked and flung himself away. Vision fading, choking, his breath hitched as he tried to gasp in air, but it wasn't enough—he couldn't get enough air in—he squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his paws into his throbbing head. "Calm down." He grit his teeth while he remembered it all in excruciating detail. Exhaustion didn't let him get far away before he collapsed. He held his head in his paws. "I'm such a piece of shit."

Look on the bright side: at least you didn't introduce yourself and thank him like some kind of monster.

Max almost twisted his face in even more anger, but his throbbing headache held that action back. "Whatever," he grumbled.

Brave hero, saver of worlds, shocker of defenseless totodile.

"That's enough!" He stood up to walk over to the creak. Water. Just a drink of water. Deep breath in. Long breath out. In. Out. Frustrated eyeroll. Exasperated sigh. Slap paw swiftly over face. "It's. Water," he told himself. He cupped his paws and slowly. Carefully. Gently. Took one step away from the creak just a little to be safe and dipped his paws under to pick up enough to drink and greedily dumped it into his mouth.

The relief superseded his fear long enough for him to drink enough and then some. Usually he'd use a cup, but—he never even grabbed his stuff. "How long was I out for?" he mumbled. The canopy above obscured the sun, but it seemed a decent bit passed noon. "Did I really sleep for an entire day? Christ."

Almost two, actually.

"Two? What?! And you just let me?" he shouted at the air.

Bodies like to rest after almost dying.

Max shook his head and started up the hill. If the totodile hadn't taken his stuff, someone else definitely would've by now. His paw went to grab his missing scarf on instinct. He swallowed air and hurried up the hill a little bit faster. He'd apparently collapsed before he made it more than halfway down the hill, which was something of a blessing. His movements remained a bit slow and groggy, but he had to rush as best he could.

The oran had done its job on his hindleg, at least, since it didn't give him much of an issue at all. He ran right up to the edge of the clearing and ducked behind a tree. Just in case someone saw him. Nearly two days, there'd definitely be a smell if the totodile….

In. Out. He peeled himself out from behind the tree and looked across the empty clearing. A swell of relief died as his heart sank. All his stuff was gone. The bag, the scarf, everything. He sank down to sit on the forest floor and rest his back on the tree. His throat closed up, aching as his breath hitched. His own repressed whimpers overwhelmed his hearing. He looked up to blink away the tears as they started stinging his eyes. Everything. He lost everything. He'd never get it back.

"Oh, Pikachu! Hi!" a familiar voice shouted. He glanced towards it barely long enough to see the totodile and dashed back behind the tree. "Wait, sorry!" Why were they apologizing? "I'm not a threat. You forgot your stuff, so I grabbed it before anyone else could. Well, they probably wouldn't. I've never seen anyone else up here, but you never know!"

Shit, shit, shit! What do I do? he thought to himself. Eyes up, blink the tears away. Rubbing makes it obvious. Dab. Deep breaths to calm down. "I checked yesterday, but I guess we missed each other." Max felt their frayed nerves tickle his own. Probably terrified he might almost kill them again.

Another creeping sensation stabbed at his chest. The same one he'd suffered through earlier, and many times before that. Concern. He just needed to smile. Convince the totodile he was fine. Send them on their way. "Sorry," he called. He made a few last second checks and stepped out from behind the with a practiced smile (adding a bit of sheepishness for the occasion). "Feeling a bit skittish."

The totodile let out a sigh of relief. "Well, yeah," he chuckled. "Understandable after, well. I'm just glad you're all right." Max felt the weight in his chest lesson as the totodile started feeling better. His stuff sat right next to them, scarf neatly folded on top of the bag. "Oh right, sorry." The totodile reached down to pick it up, shaking slightly a few times. "Here you go!" They held it out to him with the same twitch interrupting the movement. Max nodded, grabbed the bag, and quickly knelt down to search through it. A spark of anger tugged at his chest right before they grumbled, "I didn't take anything, dude."

It looked bad, so Max didn't bother trying to rebut the assumption. "Paralysis," he started explaining. "It can persist for a while, especially in types sensitive to electricity." His eyes wandered a bit, not super happy remembering what he did. Before it could seriously bother him, he found the berries. "Cheri berries, here!" He yanked them out and tossed them to the totodile. The burn of anger left the air.

The totodile caught them. "Oh, thanks," they mumbled. They bit one off the stem and tilted their head at Max. "Why do you need any? Can you get paralyzed?"

Max forced his smile a bit tighter, shallower, and looked half away. "Well, I can't but, I just, um," he mumbled. "Can't I like the flavor?"

He could feel the toto's glare boring down on him. Yet, he couldn't feel any malice, rage, or any other bad feeling from them. "No, these suck," they said matter of factly before eating the other. "Thanks, though! My friends said I was faking it." They dropped the stem and ground it into the grass, then extended a paw to Max. "My name's Corriento, by the way."

A flash of panic broke his facade for a second. Introductions, exactly what he wanted to avoid. "Oh, h-hey, hi C-…," his attempt at reciprocation failed the second he encountered Corriento's name. They were going to think he was making fun of him—oh this might be perfect. Accidentally an asshole could make them hate him without weighing down on his conscience too much. "I don't… think I can pronounce that." This had to make them hate him.

Corriento chuckled. "My friends call me Cori," he said to Max's barely concealed shock and awe.

Do you think everyone hates you as much as you hate yourself?

"They should," he mumbled. Cori tilted their head. "...have believed you! When you said you felt paralyzed." Max didn't know if he could spread his smile any thinner. Cori raised a brow, glancing down at their still outstretched paw. Max scrambled to grab it, "Hey, Cori." If blood couldn't curdle from embarrassment, he must have some milk in his veins. A piece of the puzzle remained absent, according to Cori's still slightly amused expression. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled and quickly let go of Cori's paw.

Cori burst out laughing. "You fresh from a mystery dungeon?" they forced between laughs. A chill cut into Max's heart. "I was waiting for your name."

Ground types had it good. They could burrow into the earth in events such as these. Max? He had to stay above ground and suffer. "I'm Max," he said. Eyes up. "Look at that cloud!" A perfect reason to keep eyes off him and look up himself. Blink. Careful breath to steady his tone. "It kinda looks like a…" the only cloud in the sky was an amorphous blob. "...mistake?"

The laughs fully died down. "Max?" Cori asked. "My name's too hard for you, and your name is Max? What kinda name is that?" A memory clawed an icy path through his chest.

"The kinda name that might want to shock you again," he growled. His teeth slammed back together the second the words left his lips. The fake smile split apart and revealed regret and fear. He looked back at Cori and saw the laughter gone. All the joy had left them. "S-s-sorry."

The tree he'd hid behind blocked his escape. He hadn't noticed his own back-steps until his back pressed his tail up against it. A foreign heat came to knead the ice in his chest, and he instantly knew it came from Cori. Fear—it had to be, and a new kind no less. A kind of fear that felt nothing like the fears he'd felt before. Darkness fogged his vision; his breath failed to bring in air. He was drowning again.

A paw rested on his shoulder. "Are you all right?" Cori asked. The cold kept absorbing the warmth kneading it, pressing into it harder, deeper until neither felt all that important. The paw on his shoulder pulled him out of the trauma. He lifted a paw to rest on Cori's while his vision steadily returned. Hallucinations must have taken over his vision because they didn't look at all like they wanted to kill him. "What's up?"

Max looked down. He had to wrack his brain for some convincing lie, "J-just remembering," but he'd have to wing it or else Cori might catch on, "when I drowned." Wait that was the—, "And a few other things." What the hell was he saying this for? "Sorry for shocking you. And yelling at you." The cut of guilt suddenly doubled in intensity.

"I-it's all right," Cori mumbled. "I did body slam you." They pulled their paw back to scratch the back of their head, and their eyes drifted to the ground. Max watched with growing confusion as they shook their head and smiled. "What were you doing, anyway?"

Whatever's up, they don't want to talk about it. he thought to himself. The question registered, but no lie came to help him. "Well, y'see, um," he mumbled. His nerves had already shown, so he didn't have to worry about a sudden change in demeanor. "I just never learned." Please buy it please buy it please buy it.

"That's not," Cori started. Max swallowed. "Did you want to learn? I could teach you!"

A canon of concentrated horror shot directly into Max's chest. "No!" he shouted. He needed to escape. Promising to become their student directly contradicted that goal. It just so happened that their offer also required getting anywhere near water ever again as well, making it infinitely worse than anything ever possible.

Cori crossed their arms and asked, "Why not?"

The situation couldn't get better, could it? Fear was his only believable excuse, and opening up about that wasn't on the table. "Well, it wouldn't be fair to you!" he said with suspicious excitement. "You can't just teach me to do that for nothing in return, right?" A satisfied smirk rested on his lips. Air tight.

"So, you're gonna teach me something in exchange?" Cori asked, deflating victory right in front of his eyes. They went on to rub it in further, countering the parry on Max's lips with, "You look like you could teach me a lot about fighting!" An invisible opponent appeared to their side, one they turned to face and obliterate with jabs at the air.

A light sprinkle of laughter forced its way out of Max. He couldn't hold it in at all. That confident smile they wore as they demolished the air in front of them forced on of amusement onto his. As much as he needed to let the toto down easy, he slowly realized he didn't want to. "Well, all right, fine," his mouth said before his mind could rescind permission.

Cori's eyes lit up, "Really?" and grew thirty sizes when they turned to look at him.

Max couldn't help another chuckle, even as anxiety started biting the insides of his cheeks. This didn't have to be long term. Just a few lessons both ways, then he'd head out. They did save his life, after all. "Yeah, okay," he said.

Cori cut off his circulation with a choke-hold of a hug. "Great!" they cheered and broke off before Max had a chance to wriggle free. "It's getting late, though, so I'll see ya tomorrow."

Late? Max looked up and balked at the yellowing sky. "Oh it is," he mumbled. "See ya!" The two waved at each other, and the totodile headed off the way they (presumably) came. When they completely left his vision, he slumped backwards to sit against the tree. The smile lingered without his notice as he pulled out an apple and started munching on it. Hunger left as he chomped through the apple, and drowsiness came to fill its place. The evening turned to night, and his eyes got heavier until he finally fell fully asleep.

For the first time in a long while, he slept with a smile.