"I'd show you my best,
You won't be impressed
By nothing."
"Untitled" by unknown.
Cori flinched back and sputtered, "Neb?" They looked Max's face up and down for a moment for the answer until they remembered. "Oh, Neb! You know her?" They started to smile until Max's quiet rage registered. "Max?"
Max's breath was ragged, only partially from exhaustion. Even though he'd walked across one continent to the other, this had been one of the longest days he could remember. "Yeah. I know Neb," he said, tossing his bag off at the nearest tree. "How'd you two meet?"
The question hung in the air while Cori desperately tried to figure out what was going on. "M-meet?" they stuttered, missing vital context but reading Max's tone just fine. "Just some research."
"Oh yeah?" Max asked, crossing his arms. "What research?"
"I-I…," they said, gaze falling away from Max's. The answer came so reticent and quiet that Max only knew they'd spoken from the faint parting of their jaws.
"What was that?" Max barked, taking their hesitance as a confession.
"Dungeon sickness," Cori said; Max flinched.
"You-what?" Max stumbled, questioning his resolve if only for a moment. "When?"
Surprise had pushed Max back, but Cori didn't take any of the ceded ground. "After your first swimming lesson," Cori said, barely more than a whisper. "I'd heard about it in school, but I wanted to know some more about it." Max found his rage burning hotter even though Cori's lack of retaliation did little to fan the flames.
"All right, so you looked into it," Max said. "But that's reading, not making a new pen pal." He stared Cori down for another response.
"I… had questions," they mumbled.
"About me?"
"Yeah, well, no!" Cori's eyes shot open when they realized what they said. Sparks of rage bounced off Max's cheeks while they scrambled to explain. "Th-the librarian said all the stuff was out of date thanks to someone doing research, and she said I should get in touch." One string of electricity snapped loud enough to make them flinch back, so Max took a step forward.
Max squeezed his claws into his pawpads and said, "And it just so happened that you had to ask her about me?"
"N—"
"Well? What is it you wanted to know?" Max asked in a mocking tone. He spread his paws wide as if putting a wide array of personal information on display while Cori looked on in dejected horror; Drake's self-assured smirk replaced the totodile's terror. "Want to know everything about me?" Max shouted and grabbed the tail of his scarf while Cori shook their head. "She tell you this isn't a replica?" It took a moment for Cori's eyes to register the implication.
"No!" Cori shouted back. "She didn't tell me anything! And I didn't tell her anything!"
"Nothing?!" His electricity grew to the point lightning struck, but he didn't pause. "She sent a hit squad to kidnap me!"
Surprise shook Cori enough to give Max pause—it was genuine. "She what?" they asked.
"I'd love to confess
It all off my chest;
There's nothing."
Tears fell down the charmander's face after his long diatribe towards Max. Well deserved, but it hurt just as much. It seemed to hurt the charmander, too. Maybe more than it had hurt Max. At least the charmander could spare some tears.
Even though he more than deserved every single word of the rebuke, Max only found anger building.
"You can't see
Nothing.
You won't love
Nothing."
"Who—where—why—she?" Cori scrambled to find the most pertinent question, but they all rushed them at once.
Max couldn't understand why his fury only grew in the face of all Cori's confusion and guilt. To speed the conversation along, he just answered all implied questions he could, grumbling, "Old friends, in a dungeon, and I don't know why."
Cori cowered down while looking up like a sad puppy. "A-a dungeon?" they whimpered.
Max rolled his eyes and growled, "Yes." Before they could tell him, he admitted, "Look, I know it's dangerous, but… I…." Wait, this wasn't important. He shook his head to bring himself back to the topic of his anger. "I don't have to explain myself. You do."
The slight relief snapped back into tension and made Cori flinch back. "E-explain what?" they asked.
"What else?!" Max shouted. "Neb! What did you tell her?! Why!"
The weight of Max's rage smothered Cori, and they crumpled beneath it. "W-well I didn't tell her anything at first," they whispered. "Just asked about some stuff. Sh-she said I knew a lot for someone just interested in the theory, so I told her I had a friend." They tried to glance up at Max, but could barely bring their eyes up to his hindpaws. "A-a... friend pikachu... named Max."
As if begging for a chance at mercy, they looked up at Max only to see him offering none. So, they went on. "A-and I'd asked her about significant possessions, or like, other stuff helping during episodes, so I told her about your scarf."
"I showed you my wall,
And you made it fall
For nothing;"
Max froze, not even able to offer an apologetic blink. All the reasons, emotions, pain of justifications he had in his head always came out as ridiculous when he tried to say them, and now he could feel them turning to mush before he could even get them out. It all fell apart before his eyes. He saw his partner breaking apart before his eyes. He'd terrorized his friend to the point of breaking him.
And, worst of all, not a hint of guilt overshadowed his own anger.
"I showed you my all,
But you wouldn't fall
For nothing."
Bit by bit, their mumbles stoked the raging flames inside him. Tremors of his own began shaking through him; while Cori quaked in terror, he shook with rage. "Did you think I couldn't handle it myself?" he asked.
"What?" Cori mumbled. To clarify, pure ire flashed across Max's face. "I-I just wanted to hel—"
"I know!" Max shouted. "You all just want to help! Everyone! Because I can't take care of myself, so you obviously know best! What kind of idiot would even bother asking if I needed it, right?"
"Now you've shown
Me something."
Max didn't lash out for no reason. He knew he had reasons. But, even if he could remember them, they all died before he could share them. Of all the people to understand, he trusted his partner. Of everyone he'd met, he thought the charmander would get it, or at least see his side. Even when Max couldn't figure it out himself. Did it even matter if he had a side?
They'd promised to be by each other's sides through it all—they had been through it all before. More than anyone else probably would. Even as every reason he had for acting out died in his paws, he couldn't shake the sense of betrayal eating him from the inside out.
"Give me back
My nothing."
Cori struggled to follow along until a sense of understanding gleamed in their eyes. "You handle it fine, sorry," they said. Their voice broke every other word, but somehow they summoned the wherewithal to sustain themself. "I just wanted to be there for you… however I could."
Blue scales turned orange. The same words echoed from his memory while betrayal clawed at his heart. Memory that had sat at the edge of his awareness, that he'd neglected crashed into him. A hurricane of emotions swept over him while he tried to get a hold of reality.
The past, the present, it all swirled together in one thick swamp covering him. As he tried to flail out of the murk, he only sank deeper and deeper.
"Now here I am,
A soul in my hands,
it's something."
Suffocating breath flooded Max's lungs as stone returned to flesh. The rush of oxygen cut off the scream stone had frozen, but the panic didn't falter in the slightest. One paw rushed to his chest—the memory of petrification stopping his heart took over his mind—as his paws gave out beneath him. Too panicked to balance, he waited for the ground to greet him.
Instead, he flopped into two orange-scaled arms. "Gotch—ugh!" his partner grunted. "Arceus, even for a pikachu, you're kinda heavy." His partner looked down on him with a smile.
The sight warmed Max's chilled heart. He felt himself start to smile while tears welled up in his eyes. The moment enough life returned, he jumped up and threw his paws around the charmander. Steam sizzled off his partner's scales as tears dripped down his back.
"I told you I'd be there for you, didn't I?" his partner asked with a smile Max could hear.
"It doesn't end,
Doesn't depend,
It's something."
"Max?" Cori's voice pierced through the storm for a moment.
Max pulled his eyes from his paws to glare at Cori, and he saw terror in their eyes, if only for an instant. All his rage took form as he realized his worst fear. "What?" Max spat. "Finally see me for who I am?" The world darkened around him.
"Give me back my nothing.
You've used it far too much."
"C'mon, Max," his partner prodded, wiping the tears that hadn't yet boiled away. "Talk to me."
Max grit his teeth. What did it matter why? They'd been through it all together! Every talk they'd had leading up to this flashed before his eyes. Quiet comfort turned to long, hard conversations turned to short, harsh arguments turned to loud, violent fights as he refused again and again to give even the slightest quarter.
The mess all blended together into a messy blur he couldn't make sense of. He watched himself step over every clear, agreed upon boundary with reckless abandon, only to feel shock and betrayal when consequences greeted him on the other side.
"You went and made it something,
And now we're bound to rust."
A sliver of conflict shook them before resolve hardened Cori's expression. "No," they said; all the uncertainty from before left their voice. "I already know who you are." For a moment, a desert of desolation took over Max's sight. That memory evaporated the instant he felt a scaled paw on his shoulder. "My friend."
"Scars, like ink, leave notes on the skin;
Tell ya where you've been."
It all snapped into sharp focus. Every ember and flame of his anger shot inward as Max finally put the pieces together. He didn't want someone to understand. He didn't want anyone to care. He didn't have any reason beyond pure emotion. This ongoing rampage had all been for himself. Jealous inadequacy killing to find out if it really had any claim to unconditional love.
As the world crashed into him, he realized the love had been unconditional. Even now, his partner was desperately trying to reach out to him. Even revealing himself as the complete monster he was didn't keep his partner from reaching out. Tears finally began to fall from his eyes. Betrayal cut into guilt as he realized he couldn't think of anything to make up for this.
"Fine," Max said, cutting through the silence. "Do it. You're the team leader."
His partner looked confused. "Do what?"
"Kick me out."
"Oh for the love of—," the charmander slapped a paw over his face. "You're such a—no. Just straighten up." He took a few steps forward and laid a paw on Max's shoulder. "Take a break, all right? Clear this up."
The tremors of sorrow stilled when Max felt his partner's paw on his shoulder. His partner didn't deserve any of this. "I'll just make you, then," he whispered. Before the charmander could ask why, Max smacked his paw away and slammed an iron tail right into his partner's chest with a resounding CRACK.
Lightning met the charmander when he hit the ground, and by the time the flash of the attack faded, Max was gone.
"Not a drink can sedate the sin;
Hangover within.
Within."
Max snatched their paw in his own and asked, "Am I?" He jerked them towards him and summoned a bolt of lightning in the same moment. Electricity locked their nerves and spasmed their muscles, face stuck in a silent scream of agony.
Max let go of Cori, and let them fall. "Well, if you think you know who I am," Max spat as he stepped around them to kneel down next to their face, "Let's compare notes." Cori's eyes turned to face him, still trapped in that expression of suffering. Max couldn't help but find it fitting.
"I've never met someone who didn't hate me by the time I left," he explained. "I make sure of it." The twitches across Cori steadily lost their randomness as they tugged their arms to the ground. "You know Dark Matter? The devil that tried to send the world into the sun before I killed it?" Rather than try to respond, Cori tried to tug themself up only for Max to slap them across the field with an iron tail.
"I gave it a home in my heart," he went on. The shock of the impact jolted Cori's limbs back under their control. "And, between the two of us, I'm the cruel one." Even with their limbs under their command, constant spasms made them too shaky to use. Since Max knew they couldn't get up on their own, he took his time walking over.
Right when Cori had flailed their way onto their knees, one paw clutching their stomach where Max had hit them, Max stepped beside them. "That a friend, to you?" Teardrops fell beneath him without his notice while he looked down at Cori with disgust.
Yet, Cori didn't meet his gaze. Didn't even try. They looked right below him. Max assumed they didn't have the nerve to meet his gaze and forced a cruel chuckle. "That's what I thought." When he went to stand, Cori threw their arms around him and squeezed as hard as they could.
Max threw himself back, lobbing a weak bolt of surprise into them, but they only squeezed tighter. Another shock, and he started flailing to hit them and yank himself free, but he couldn't make it out of their hold. "What are you doing?" he screamed.
"Clenching!" Cori screamed back.
For just a moment, confusion breached the storm of emotion flooding Max. He stopped his struggle and looked down at them squeezing their face relentlessly into his chest. "...What?" he balked.
"I didn't get it before," Cori said. "When you said it the first time, it sounded like one of those weird sayings of yours, but I couldn't stop thinking about it." They looked up to meet his gaze with a confident smile. "Then, I realized you were talking about friendship."
Stunned silence muzzled Max. "Relax as it starts, y'know, just go with the flow and see what happens. Don't push it, though, because that could really put someone off, maybe even ruin the whole relationship." Their smile grew wider as they squeezed Max tighter. "And once it's in, you clench, do everything you can to keep the person with you."
Max finally realized he'd begun crying as tears dripped onto Cori's face. The world stood still around him. Even tears couldn't continue as he watched Cori's bright smile not waver for even a moment. The impossibility of it all spun around him as his mind ran into overdrive to process what just happened. Even when he knew he'd heard them right the first time, he still nearly asked them to repeat it before stopping himself. Hearing it again might fry his brain.
In his darkest moment, when he felt and fully believed himself the villain of his own story, Cori threw themself into danger to affirm their love for him with his own words.
His own words having been a joke about anal sex.
Max felt his chest shake, clenching his teeth to hold it in while he looked up to hide his face from Cori. No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn't hold it back. Not for long. Seeing all of this, Cori squeezed him tighter and leaned their head over his shoulder. "It's okay," they comforted. "Let it out."
An avalanche of laughter burst out of his chest. Too much, it was too much. Cori stepped back in confusion, and Max fell to the ground, laughing too hard to keep himself up. His belly bobbed with every stuttered exhale to the point that he had to hold it with his paws lest it burst free from the confines of his fur.
He got just enough control of himself to look up at Cori and lost every bit of it when he saw their abject confusion. It seemed impossible that they could've said all of that with such a serious tone, yet the memory, so recent, blared as clear as a cloudless day.
"M-Max?" Cori asked. This entire display had probably convinced them he'd completely lost his mind.
"I-You—" Max tried to explain himself, but lost himself in another fit of laughs when he looked at Cori again. Could he tell them? Should he tell them? Oh God, what if they said that to someone else, that… he couldn't decide if that made him want to leave them in the dark more or less.
"Was I wrong?" Cori mumbled.
Even his endless amusement couldn't make him ignore the hurt in their voice. "No!" Max hurried to say between giggles. All of his frustration and anger faded to the back of his mind after one simple misunderstanding. It felt like a completely different day.
The sight of Cori's many scrapes and bruises made it very clear, however, that less than a few minutes had passed. The last of his laughter choked under a new wave of shame. Cori had one arm around their stomach, the other braced against their leg with one eye shut in a grimace. Just like every other time before, he'd—
"Enough!" a familiar voice blared in his ear. Max slapped one paw over it and looked over to see Dark Matter fully formed. As large as it was their first meeting, with burning reds swirling into cosmic purples. Despite knowing it for as long as he had, the memory of their first meeting sent a shiver down his spine.
"Did that little glowy thing just talk?" Cori asked.
Before Max could balk at them calling it 'little,' Dark Matter floated a bit back to reveal its actual size (somewhere between a speck and a paw). The sight of a tiny, glowing, purple orb poked at some deep part of his memory. "Apologize and move on," it groaned. "It is time you got over yourself and thanked someone for staying by your side, you walking yellow train wreck."
Max sputtered out false-starts while his cheeks flushed. This lecture felt like getting scolded by his parents in front of a friend.
"Who… what?" Cori asked.
Dark Matter shifted its attention toward them (a bit tough to make out since it was mostly a featureless sphere) and floated just a bit closer. "Cori, hello." It dipped down in its approximation of a bow. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."
Cori stared blankly at the little orb. "It… you… my name?" they mumbled, then looked at Max, desperate for an explanation. "Have you met… them?"
As he often did, Max briefly wished whatever transported him here had made him a ground type instead of cursing him to remain above ground during even the most awkward of situations. "Y-yeah," he said. "So, uh…" Nope, not a single way to be nonchalant about this. "Remember how I said I let Dark Matter into my heart?"
"Yeah?" Cori said. After a moment of processing, their confusion turned to eyes wide in shock. "Y-you were serious?!" they shouted. "I thought you were—meant—literally?!"
"Well, not quite," Dark Matter explained. "I do not reside specifically in the organ you would call a heart. It is moreso that I take refuge within him and feed off his emotions and emotions of others around him." It buzzed out a hum in thought. "Though, with a figurative understanding, it is quite apt an explanation."
Cori's shock and terror dulled back into confusion the more it spoke. "Do… you always talk like that?" they mumbled.
"Like what?"
"Yes," Max said. Dark Matter spun to… glare? He had to assume it was a glare, but without even a single eye, he could only go off the concentrated beam of malice it shot into him. "It doesn't know any better." Yep, definitely glaring.
Cori nodded along, though very clearly still struggled to keep up. "W-wait, so you—," they mumbled, eyes bouncing between him and Dark Matter until growing wide and settling on Max. "You're—you—the?"
Could pikachu learn dig? Max never checked, just assumed no. For now, though, he definitely didn't know it, so he finally rolled up to sit instead of lay. "Y-yeah," he confirmed, one paw reaching to scratch the back of his head. Sparks of embarrassment bounced off his cheeks, and he looked down to avoid their gaze. He had to assume they thought he was pathetic, a world savior reduced to scrounging around in the wilds.
When Cori chuckled, though, it didn't match the derision he expected. "Why does it look like that embarrasses you?" Cori giggled.
Max's cheeks sparked more at that while he failed to sputter out the first word of a comprehensible sentence.
"He believes you will see him as pathetic now that you know how far he's fallen," Dark Matter mercilessly explained for him. "Please do not take it personally, though. He very often imagines the worst reactions of others as fact. It validates his own self-hatred by assigning it to others."
"Fucker!" Max shouted and hopped to slap his paws around the slanderous speck. It slipped out of his grasp, so he tried again, "Don't just say shit like that!" only to miss again.
"Was my assessment inaccurate?" it asked, again dodging him easily.
"Yes!"
"Nah," Cori said. Max shot a glare of ire and betrayal towards them, finally giving up his assault on Dark Matter. "What?" Cori asked with a smirk and a shrug. "It's not wrong."
"Y-yes! It completely is!" Max shouted out in impotent denial.
"How did this happen, anyway?" Cori asked. "Was it always so small? Is this why nobody knows how it died? Does your partner know?! Oh! Is it why you randomly stare off at nothing? And—"
Max leapt forward to manually shut Cori's mouth. "It's… a lot to explain," he said. "And," he let go of their maw and looked down at the grass, "Y-you should save your strength." A little ball of rubber dropped on top of his head, which he saw was blue once it bounced down to and off his nose. He looked up to see none other than Dark Matter floating above him.
"That should help," it explained. "You have yet to get over yourself and apologize, Max."
He was going to kill it. "I'm getting to it!" he growled, leaning down to pick up the oran. "H-hey." He forced himself to look Cori in the eyes, but couldn't sustain it for more than a second. "S-sorry." He pushed the berry into their paws and flinched away. "I-I just-everything happened at once."
Regret cut him off as the last day ran back in his head. "I needed…," he trailed off. If he let himself think about it, he'd talk himself out of talking at all. "I needed someone to blame," even while he spoke, he had to fight to stay audible. "And I needed it to be you, because I wanted you to hate me."
The back of his throat ached; tears welled up in his eyes. "Every second you don't feels like a lie," he choked out. "So, when I found out you… when I thought you went behind my back, it finally made sense." One tear ran down his muzzle and off his nose while another made the trek over his cheek to fall to the ground. "B-but I—" he shook his head. This apology was turning into excuses.
"It was just wrong," he cried, sobs taking over his composure. "I made you an enemy so I could treat you like one because I'm too much of a fucking coward—"
Cori yanked Max into a hug, destroying any chance he had of talking through the sobs. Even though he didn't think he deserved it, he couldn't help leaning into the embrace. Right as Max started to consider holding back, Cori destroyed any chance he had with a whispered, "I love you."
If it weren't for Cori holding him up, Max would've fallen over from the weight of his sobs. A squirt of juice splashed down Max's back when Cori took a bite out of the oran, but Max couldn't even notice. Months of mistakes, a year of malice, and a lifetime of self-hate washed over him in a storm of tears; Cori stood strong in the turbulent waters and kept his head above the waves.
As his sorrow abated, and his sobs quieted, he felt the slightest bit of control return. With all the strength he could muster, Max leaned closer to Cori's ear and whispered, "Thank you."
"I am not alone;
I've got you in my soul.
I pushed you away,
Yet, you let me stay;
Now, I know that I've found my place."
Max squeezed the envelope in his paws, but tried desperately not to crinkle it at all. Nerves burning a hole in his stomach demanded he tear it apart, forget he'd ever written it, but he couldn't manage that even if he wanted to. Deep breath in. Long breath out.
Apologizing to Cori face to face felt easy compared to writing a letter to his partner. At least he could remember Cori's name. It took him half an hour last night just to remember his old team name. His eyes scanned "To the Leader of Team Plasma" on the front of the envelope for what had to have been the thousandth time, partially to check for mistakes, but mostly to convince himself the letter really existed.
He'd written it. It was there. Folded, wrapped up, signed and ready. All he had to do was walk tens of yards to the mailbox and turn the flag up. He'd woken up early to make sure he could send it before Pelipper came, but spent most of that time convincing himself to actually send it.
"Should I mail it for you at this point?" Dark Matter asked mere inches from Max's ear.
Max leapt away, screaming, "WHY—!" Even despite the shock, it took him little more than a moment to recognize the speck. "Give me some warning, God!"
"You never minded my interjections before," it argued. Max glared at the purple dot. "Well, I suppose the circumstances are somewhat different. Sorry."
"It's fine," Max mumbled on instinct. After a deep breath and checking over the letter, though, he meant it. His nerves calming allowed his curiosity to surface. "Could you always hang around like this? What made you decide to start bopping about outside my head?" He leaned against the wall and rested his head on his paws, letting the letter fall into his lap.
"As long as I remain sufficiently diminutive, it's hardly energy intensive," Dark Matter explained. "Though, I imagine it would have been more difficult in my sustained state of deprivation." A twinge of guilt twisted across Max's face for a moment, but he flicked his ear to get rid of the discomfort. "As for why, I happen to like the little scamp. You do as well, so I thought it necessary to ensure you remained with Cori."
Max rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "I'm sure I could've managed it," he said. Yet, he couldn't deny Dark Matter helped him get over his own guilt faster. "But I guess you helped push me along the right path. Thanks."
"Think nothing of it," Dark Matter said. "If you can drag me out of my worst tendencies, I can help you against yours." A comforting joy warmed Max's chest and pulled his expression into a smile. Suddenly, an unrecognizable, yet familiar and palpable unease invaded the moment. While lessened, apparently their connection sustained even when Dark Matter took a separate form.
"You feel that?" Max asked, feeling the need to shift from one hindpaw to the other.
Dark Matter hesitated to answer, leaving Max to suffer in its unease without explanation for just long enough to recognize its embarrassment. "S-sorry," it mumbled. "I considered asking you a favor, but you're quite preoccupied with your own struggles for now."
A wry grin spread across Max's cheeks in defiance of the awkward air surrounding them. "Oh yeah?" he asked. The reformed ball of hate teased Max about his emotions, so it was only fair Max returned the favor. "Why not tell me now, and I'll get to it when I can?"
"Well, I…," Dark Matter stumbled over its own words. "It would burden your mind unnecessarily until the issue could be resolved."
Usually, its tendency to interpret rhetorical questions as literal was annoying, but this time, Max came prepared. "But now, I'm just worrying about what it could be," he said. Dark Matter meekly floated lower as if struggling to bear the weight of the conversation, making Max chuckle, "Just tell me what you want."
"It's not—," Dark Matter gave up on its last rebellion before it could even start it. "I simply wish to show you something." Confusion tipped the scales out of Max's favor. "You have no obligation to indulge me, but I've given the voidlands a simple form. If, however, you fear—"
"How long will it take?" Max interrupted, eyes wide with excitement. "You said time doesn't pass, right? Can't we just hop in and back out without missing a thing?" Even the pure terror of remembering how they'd get there couldn't restrain Max's joy.
Silence hung in the air once more, but with a much more nourishing weight pressing down on it, Dark Matter seemed to contract the mouse's same excitement. "Time's passage is somewhat stunted, but it does not stop," it clarified. "It would be no trouble for me to maintain watch of our surroundings to be safe. However, are you certain?"
"Yes!" Max replied before the question could finish, and Dark Matter had vanished as quickly as Max had answered. A shot of dread hit Max in the chest while he could no longer ignore his imminent petrification. Luckily, before fear could fully take hold, the landscape had already become an empty void. "Hello?" Max said with a hollow voice. Silence echoed him in response.
His paws rested on ground he couldn't see when he looked down—where was he? Hadn't Dark Matter said it made something new? This land had less form than the one he'd seen before!
"Please calm down," Dark Matter chuckled beside him. Max jumped at the sound, but saw nothing when he turned to retaliate. "I've made something of a blindfold around you."
"You could've warned me about that before!" Max growled back. He wanted to scream, but bit his tongue. Dark Matter had seemed pretty nervous.
"Forgive me," it apologized. "I believe I was too excited to think clearly." Even after so long, it still surprised Max when Dark Matter mentioned its own emotions. It got used to having them faster than he could acclimate to hearing them expressed.
This surprise had the added benefit of calming Max down into an excitement of his own. "It's all right," he said. "But didn't you bring me in here to show me what you made?"
"In due time," Dark Matter sang. "First, however, I wished to thank you."
Max reached behind him to scratch the back of his neck while he felt his cheeks start to burn. "Look, you've done at least as much for me," he mumbled. "I should be the one thanking you by now."
"How can you believe so deeply in the worth of love and deny it to yourself?" Dark Matter giggled. The giddy delivery only served to sharpen the point of the criticism. "You have, despite your faults, done much for me beyond permitting me life. Your support and faith in me, even in times where you had no faith in yourself, destroyed my ability to understand the world."
The more it spoke, the more Max felt his cheeks burn, even becoming flushed enough to send off a few stray sparks. "W-well, I'm glad," he mumbled. It felt like flattery, but he didn't want to challenge it. Changing the subject tended to work better. "What's this got to do with what you made, though?"
"See for yourself," Dark matter said. The veil surrounding Max faded away to reveal two scenes in front of him. The vacuum of the voidlands he stood in gave way to a familiar grassy knoll on the left, and that room he'd spent so long recovering in beside it.
The near exact recreations of these spaces alone would have been enough to leave Max speechless, but the figures within them nearly sewed his mouth shut. Perfect recreations of Cori and Neb embraced equally perfect recreations of him.
"I did some excavating in your memories in pursuit of accuracy. I apologize for not asking permission, but I didn't want to ruin the surprise," Dark Matter said. Max glanced over at it, but couldn't muster a response past his bewilderment. Looking to the side, he saw it had again taken the form of his old partner, as well as another mural of him hugging Sam surrounded by flowers. "These are not mere images, but passageways. You may enter them if you like."
Max nodded, his hindpaws taking him to his right. The few months since meeting her felt like eternities, yet the memory hadn't faded in the slightest. He'd collapsed after trying to run before his ankle had fully healed, and she had rushed to help him. He reached to feel her fur while looking at her concern struggling to hide amused exasperation.
"What am I gonna do with you," he mumbled to himself, remembering her words exactly. As unsettling as it felt to look at a perfect replicant of himself, like a tragic explosion, he couldn't tear his eyes away as he turned to face himself. His own eyes, drowning in emotion, had an empty gaze. It gave the sense that, while he could recognize it as himself, if the roles reversed, the replica wouldn't be able to do the same.
Dark Matter even made it look feral.
An empty vessel, with only the vaguest, hollow hint of a soul buried beneath obfuscation and terror. Yet, through all the layers of detachment he tried to force himself through, tried to bury his self beneath, Neb hadn't hesitated to excavate him out of himself. She had cared for him, taken care of his every need, and yet, still treated him as an equal. Even when he'd convinced himself he'd left, she knew better.
Tears ran from his eyes, so he turned to stumble toward the scene with Cori while trying to dry his eyes. Of course, the scene only brought more tears. At least they lacked the sorrow of guilt. Well, not as much guilt.
He hadn't taken one step further from the threshold after crossing it when he collapsed under the weight of his own emotions. Familiar claws clapped his shoulder, Dark Matter letting him know it was there for him.
Flashes of his own transgressions and awful behavior faded against the scenes of their aftermath before him. Relationships filled with love that he'd abandoned, yet nonetheless sustained by memories of one last kindness. "I wished to recreate love," Dark Matter explained. "Is your expression of anguish a sign of success or failure?"
Max leapt up to wrap his arms around it, too far gone to try answering. Its arms reciprocated with a touch more certainty than the last time. The familiar form of his old partner held him up while Dark Matter used it to return strength to Max's crumbling emotional state. He couldn't stand on his own right now, but he didn't need to; he had someone to hold him up.
Tears streamed down his face, steaming off Dark Matter's borrowed form. The heat that instantly boiled his own tears, though, warmed the cold sorrow soaking him. Max put the pieces of himself back together, all the same pieces in all the same places, yet nevertheless lighter.
"You did wonderful," Max squeaked.
"Thank you," Dark Matter said. It leaned its head back to try flashing a smile that, while managing not to tear his mouth open this time, remained horrifically wide.
"B-better," Max said beneath a stifled chuckle. Dark Matter nodded and pat his back, so Max did the same and let go. One paw, though, traced its arm down to hold its paw with his own. "Thank you." Max squeezed its paw. "I needed this."
"It was the least I could do," Dark Matter said. Max couldn't bring himself to accept it fully, but he found himself less able to deny it either. He looked around at the different scenes surrounding them, and saw a fourth for the first time. A hug like the rest, but perhaps the most significant. Dark Matter's first.
Clenching Dark Matter's paw for strength, Max made his way over to the mural of him, his first partner, and Dark Matter. He felt his own fur first, tracing the perfect replica of his form once again, until resting on his tail. He shifted at the sight, flicking his own behind himself while he looked at its imitation. A flat, stumpy little block of discomfort he didn't want to place.
Dark Matter squeezed his paw to yank him out of the headspace, so Max moved on to his partner. The knowledge that this image came from his own memory didn't make it any less strange to feel every inch remain exactly as he pictured it, in exactly the places he pictured.
"Will you be mailing the letter?" Dark Matter asked.
"Shut up and let me admire your art," Max chided. He smirked back at Dark Matter's blank expression, then pulled himself away from the metaphysical mural. "I'm just…" He shook his head and shoved his fear down. "Whatever. I wrote it. He can respond however he wants. I can't control that." He looked back at Dark Matter for reassurance.
It was gone. Max looked all around him for the pseudo-mander, but only saw his surroundings fade away. "H-hello?" he called out. Finally, his room surrounded him once more.
Our privacy has been infringed.
Dark Matter's voice resided again in the familiar crook in the back of Max's neck, and he felt a faint stab of someone else's emotions in his chest. "Jake?" he asked the air. That was the only person he knew who could enter from anywhere completely invisibly. Yet, the air didn't answer, and the presence felt completely unlike the gengar.
Just like in the mystery dungeon the day before, he felt someone watching him. Their gaze pressed upon him like rods of ice, yet no trace of anyone but himself revealed itself no matter how many times he checked the surrounding wall. His eyes just passed over the North-side of the room for the fourth time when a quiet, meek, "Max?" made him jump out of his skin screaming.
Max leapt back from the sound and looked up to see Sam hanging from the outside of his window. "Sam?!" he shouted, one paw reaching to still his racing heart. "How long have you been there?"
"Just since you started spinning," she said. "I wanted to talk before I went home."
Now that he knew he wasn't under threat, he started calming down much faster, only having to wait for his racing heart to slow. "You couldn't have knocked?" he chuckled.
"I thought I heard someone, so I wanted to wait until you were done so I didn't interrupt," she explained. Max considered explaining to her eavesdropping was rude…, but whatever. He wasn't her parent.
"Come on," he beckoned with a wave of his paw. "The door's that way." He pointed to the South side of the room and heard her knocking on it by the time he looked back up at the window. Knocking fast, too. With both hands. Non-stop. "I'm coming!"
Max half-rushed to the door and gradually opened it (following its path so she didn't end up knocking on him). Proving his caution, the moment the door left its path, he watched her bone slam into the floor. "Oh, sorry," she said to the floor, brushing at it with her paw and walking inside. Max balked for a second seeing she had, in fact, grown taller than him. "What's up with all the wall paper?"
"Huh?" Max asked, scanning the very clearly painted wall until he realized she meant his notes. "Oh, uh. Long story." Even before he finished that sentence, he could feel her demand more info, so he quickly spat out, "What did you want to talk to me about?"
"Oh, ummmm, well…," Sam mumbled. For the first time since he'd met her, she was reticent to speak. The stab of guilt from earlier returned to assault his heart even harder now. "I-I wanted to… I'm sorry." Max waited on her while she struggled through finding the words. "They said you needed help, but then they just made you mad."
His paw went to his throat, remembering where she held her bone. As frustrating as yesterday had been, he couldn't remotely convince himself to hold it against her. Of course, her dejected examination of the ground between them made it hard to even consider that.
Max placed a paw on her shoulder with a smile. When she looked up, he said, "I appreciate it." He moved beside her to run his paw along her back. "I know you meant well, and I'm glad you care so much." The cloud of guilt in her eyes faded only slightly, but it was enough to help him keep his smile up. "Honestly, I was pretty happy to see you again." With a chuckle, he brought his paw to his neck and said, "Even if you were stra—"
Sam cut him off with a tackle of a hug, spewing, "Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you! Thank you!" Despite the suddenly limited circulation to his brain, he managed to return the hug. There was no way he'd be able to withstand a surprise tackle-hug from her anymore, no matter how soon he could see her coming.
"Air," he choked out, tapping her back.
She quickly obliged by squeezing his neck harder for a moment and then releasing the hug. Max stayed down for a bit to suck air back in. Well, he wanted to, at least, but Sam near-instantly yanked him up—it wasn't even slightly difficult for her to lift him straight up and plop him back down. She really had gotten bigger.
Before either of them could speak again, wings flapping over the top of his hut stopped Max's heart. "Mail!" he shouted and dashed to grab the letter. "Be right back!" Hopefully Sam understood that, but he didn't have time to make sure.
He burst through the door and saw Pelipper hovering over his mailbox—she was already leaving! "Wait!" he shouted at the yet-to-land post-bird. She continued her descent without the slightest change, then finally looked at the panicked mouse standing about a foot too close.
"I-are-did you still will you take can a letter?" Every permutation of the question tumbled out of his mouth at once, so he had to hope holding up the letter would be enough clarification.
"Sure, kiddo!" the bird answered, snatching up the letter without missing a beat. Max almost wanted to tell her to be more careful, but he bit his tongue. Pelipper looked over the front of the envelope to check if it was all in order. Even though he had nothing to worry about, having checked it more than any reasonable person could, he had this growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong. What did he miss?
All his worst fears confirmed themselves when Pelipper grimaced. "The team doesn't have a leader right now," she explained. "You'll have to specify which member you mean."
Time stopped. For the first time since his run in with the void lands, Max wished he could petrify instead of play his part. "Wh-where's their leader?"
"The charmander?" she asked. Max nodded. "He's disappeared."
(A/N: Whelp, that's the last chapter! Thanks for sticking with me through the story. I tried my best, but I couldn't quite keep up with the initial update schedule. Still, I finished it off in the end, and I hope you like it!
...okay, fine. There's more to the story. It's not ending on a cliffhanger, not exactly. This is the end of Alone Together, but I'm working on a sequel story. I've got more to do with these characters, but the story I have in mind is different enough from the intent in this one that I want to make them two distinct 'books'. Hell, this was originally supposed to be a oneshot, lol.
I don't know how soon I'll start uploading for that story how often. My goal is once a month updates, but I want to do a few trial months before committing to it. Either way, I hope you'll give me a follow and let me know what you thought of this story! It's a scientific fact that reviewing a fic makes the author feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Thanks for reading. I'll see you next time in Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Dream of Change.)