Chapter Thirteen:
Doing Fine

Disclaimer: I do not own the series Pokémon. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.

Notes: Welcome to the new readers! I would love to hear feedback from y'all, if it can be spared!

This chapter was a bit easier to work through, as I didn't have to worry about rewriting it from scratch like the last chapter, haha! On another note, I am away in San Francisco for the Game Developer's Conference this week. I am super excited, being here with my family, and we're right across the street from both the beach and the zoo! If I do miss next week's update, my vacation/future work networking might play a part into that defection in schedule.

Regardless, I am happy I managed to get this chapter out, and I do hope that y'all enjoy it, and as always, I love to hear from you guys, so don't be shy and stop on by in the reviews!

Current Team: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty

Badges Won: Stone Badge


"How are we doing?"
"How are 'we' doing? Funny you should put it quite that way, Jim. 'We' are doing fine."
-Captain James Kirk and Leonard "Bones" McCoy, "Star Trek III: The Search for Spock"


Shay jerked awake at the sudden bark of something sounding off right in her ear, startling her so badly her heart began to triphammer away in her chest, beating wild and painful. She clutched at her chest, breathing hard, eyes wide and searching, the other hand balled into a fist. Old aches and pains bloomed into existence and throbbed in her core, reminding her she had sustained a rather serious head injury there earlier. It immediately began to throb to the tempo of her rapid heartbeat, and it was distracting, to say the least.

About six men, varying in clothing from typical police uniforms to street-clothes of work slacks and long-sleeved button-down shirts, stood in a ring around her. The closest towered over her, staring down as he regarded her with sharp, critical dark eyes set in a bronzed, handsome facefe bn. She couldn't tell if his eyes were a dark brown or black. There was no warmth or friendliness in those depths. It was as though she was trying to gaze into the innards of a pair of deep tunnels and trying to focus on his face was nearly impossible. It just kept swimming around in her vision, blurring in and out of focus. She closed her eyes, sucking in a sharp and long breath between clenched teeth.

"Hey! Wake up!"

A foot kicked hers, and the jolt of motion traveled up her leg, through her body, and lingered the longest as it made its way up to her skull.

"Wake up!"

"I'm awake, you nut fucker!" Shay hissed out between her still-clenched teeth. Her head immediately set to throbbing, as though to some unknown electronica or techno tune that she couldn't make out or hear. If she focused, she could probably even strain to guess it was to some Italobrothers. Not the time or place and not exactly the beat I wanna think about. I want soft lullabies and soothing acoustic guitars and quiet folk music. "I have a goddamn concussion, in case you're too blind and stupid to notice."

"Oh, lookit here, boys. We have ourselves a smart-ass thief."

That got her attention, and against all self-preservation instincts that were howling at her to not move, she struggled into a more upright position. The throbbing increased in tempo as she did and didn't settle until she did. The men around her stiffened in reaction, hands flying to their belts, where several pokéballs resided, and she noticed how oddly empty the center lobby was.

She slowly swiveled her head toward the front desk and found the nurse from earlier speaking with a uniformed officer. Her eyes flicked to Shay, meeting her gaze, and then she turned away from Shay bodily. Most likely giving a statement, Shay figured with a frown. Bitches ruin everything.

She turned back to the ring of men around her, facing the man who had so rudely awoken and addressed her. Her shoulders hitched when he pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his backside.

"Ma'am, we're going to have to ask you to stand up and put your hands behind your back."

"Why?"

The man who had woken her up was staring her down with those cuffs in hand and barely batted an eye at her inquiry. His lips quirked, just barely, as though he was only just vaguely amused by this whole thing.

"We're placing you under arrest for the assault and battery of a trainer-owned pokémon, assault and battery of a trainer, pokémon endangerment, and of course, theft of a trainer-owned pokémon."

Shay stared at him, her mind screeching to a grinding and jarring halt. Her mouth popped open just a little bit, and slowly panned her gaze to look at the faces of the other men. They each had a hand placed on their waists, fingers swiveling over the smooth surfaces of their pokéballs, shoulders rigid, the skin tight around their eyes as they watched her every move. Waiting for her to make the wrong move, to say the wrong thing, anything.

The full gravitas of the situation came crashing down on her head and she wished she was more present, mentally, to handle this.

"I didn't steal a pokémon," she finally said, and as soon as the words came out of her mouth, a few of the uniformed and street-clothes officers exchanged a round of laughs and glances. The one who had addressed her snorted, stepping forward brusquely and grabbing hold of one of her wrists and yanking her up out of her seat. He was quick to twist her arm around her back and pin it there long enough to slap a cuff on her.

"Wait a minute, don't I get to give a statement before you start hauling me off?!" Shay struggled for only a moment, before doubling over when her head gave an almighty agonizing shred of tortuous pain, like hot nails being slammed into her skull from all directions at once. She barely noticed as she was being read her rights, everything beyond the pain was inconsequential, insignificant. She would have crumpled then and there if the officer holding her hadn't kept an iron-vice grip on her arm. He was quick to snatch up her other arm, wrenching it back to join the other and slipped the cuff on it as well. The metal dug into her wrists and her shoulders screamed at the forced position they were in.

"The nurse confirmed you stole a Wingull by the name of Peeko, registered to Angus Briney—"

"Confirmed I stole it, or confirmed that I brought Peeko in? A Team Aqua grunt stole her, ran off along Route 116, and the only reason I managed to catch the bastard was because the Rusturf Tunnel was incomplete!"

One of the men scoffed. "Right, a likely story. Use the local scapegoat to cover up your own crimes."

"PEEKO!"

All heads turned on a dime at the booming cry coming forth from the front of the Pokémon Center. The officers and what few patrons or personnel in the center all turned as one to the source, as though of a hive mind entity, to review the newcomer. An elderly man of average height and perhaps around sixty or seventy years of age stood at the threshold of the center, looking around wildly from one corner of the center to the other. He donned a long-sleeved sweater effectuated with little designs—some geometric, others that appeared to be naval—with a worn vest donned over that. His pants were just as worn and used, faded from years and salt. His shoes were much the same state of affairs, but he didn't look shabby. He had no hair atop his head, but he had plenty covering his cheeks and chin, giving him a full bushy silvery-white beard across his squat, heavily tanned face.

The old man came hurtling forward, moving at a much quicker pace than Shay would have thought for a person his age, and flung himself against the front desk. The officer standing beside the counter moved out of the way just in time to avoid getting bowled over by the man. A chagrined expression fleetingly passed over his face, but he was quick to compose himself. The nurse, in contrast, was completely unperturbed by the older man as he practically flung himself halfway over the front desk's counter, head swinging to and fro in desperate search for his beloved pokémon.

"Where is my Peeko? Is my Peeko all right?"

The accent that came hurtling out of the old man's mouth surprised Shay to no ends. She never would have expected a Scottish accent. Then she had to scold herself for focusing on such an unimportant and distracting detail that really had no pertinence to her current predicament.

"Yes, Mister Briney, your little Peeko is doing just fine! She's being checked over and should be out soon, so please, have some patience. The police are here to apprehend the thief, she's right over there, as you can see—"

The old man whirled, his eyes searching, combing the center lobby. They swept over Shay once, twice, and then landed on her the third go-round. Mister Briney leaned toward the counter.

"Are you telling me that you think that is the thief?" he cried to the nurse. The woman blanched, hesitated, nodded. There was a moment's pause. Then, "ARE YE OUT OF YER BLOODY MIND, WOMAN? A MAN STOLE MY PRECIOUS PEEKO! NOT THAT SLIP OF A WEE GIRL!"

He suddenly whirled on the officer standing close to the front desk, jamming his index finger right in the man's face, teeth bared, face wrinkled into a snarl.

"Ye'd better point me out to yer bloody superior right now, or so help me, I'll be taking my fury out on yer hide!"

The officer in question was rather quick to point out the plainclothes officer holding Shay by the arm. The grip on said arm tightened as the elderly man whirled on his heel and marched right over to them. The others around them remained glued to their spots as the newcomer stopped short of Shay and the officer holding her upright.

The old man stared her down, his steel-grey gaze scanning her over once, then twice, before he turned his hawk-like gaze toward the officer.

"Release her."

"I'm…sorry?"

Mister Briney nodded toward Shay.

"I said, 'release her'. If ye bloody morons had taken my full statement instead of half-arsing yer jobs, ye'd know ye lot would be on the lookout for a man, not this…this! This wee lass with half her face bashed in! Dinnae any of ye even listen when I was giving my statement earlier this evening?"

There was smattering of mumbles and mutters from the others that Shay couldn't make heads or tails of from the others close to her. Even with her less-than-stellar hearing issues, the blows to her head earlier hadn't helped much either. On top of hot nails slowly inching their way deeper into her head, her ears were fucking ringing. Even her vision was reduced to a sliver in one eye and blurry in the other. She was going to look fantastically horrible tomorrow morning, she just knew it.

Mister Briney gazed thunderously at the officer gripping Shay's arm tightly in his meaty hand. When the offhanded mumbling side conversations had ceased at last, there was only the tense silence that stretched on between them all. Shay had to consciously fight to keep from fidgeting or even just passing out to break the monotony. She swayed on her feet, wanting nothing more than to just sit down again.

"Well? Are ye gon' to just stand there, staring at me? Or are ye gon' to uncuff the poor lass an' go look fer the real thief?"

"Mister Briney…with all due respect, she came into the center with Peeko beaten all to hell—"

"It's a bloody Pokémon Center! Where else is Peeko supposed to go if she's been hurt? A junkyard? Ooh, better yet, how about the cemetery at Mount Pyre?!" Mister Briney paused, taking a few moments to collect himself, breathing hard. He turned his sharp gaze on Shay and jerked a nod to her. "Lass, where did ye find my little Peeko at?"

Shay hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the officer, then back to Mister Briney. It took her addled brain to translate his words. He spoke perfectly fine enough that she could understand him; she was working delays at this point, and she wasn't sure if she was going to last much longer.

"In Rusturf Tunnel. I didn't know he stole your Wingull at the time. I recognized him from Petalburg Woods though. He's some kind of foot soldier for Team Aqua, and he was harassing a Devon Corporation scientist a few weeks back when I was passing through. I think he was doing the same to another worker from the company before hightailing it out of Rustboro earlier today." Shay paused, licking her lips and wincing, feeling how dry and cracked and fat they were. The touch of iron on the tip of her tongue told her that her lip had been split open and it must have only just dried recently.

"I was coming out of Roxanne's gym in the late afternoon when I saw him making a break for Route 116. You can check with her, I was the only one there this afternoon. He must have taken Peeko since I last saw him and when I caught up to him. He was trying to wring Peeko's neck and I caught him by surprise. It was dark, though, and he had the only flashlight. When I had my pokémon battling his, he snuck up on me and tried beating the shit out of me. I got him back but then he bashed me in the head with his flashlight and took off. He left Peeko and I used my Ralts to Teleport back here."

Shay shifted to glance over her shoulder and stared the officer still holding her up dead in the eye. "That's my fucking statement. You need anything else from me?"

He slid his dark gaze from her face over to Mister Briney's. Dithered for the longest time. Fished out his keys and uncuffed Shay, as slowly as he possibly could.

"We'll keep in touch." The officer said, nodding to Mister Briney. To her, he added, "Don't skip town. We'll be checking in with Gym Leader Roxanne about your whereabouts, and security cameras on the streets to confirm your story."

With a last nod, the officer twirled a finger in the air, motioning for the others to wrap it up. Without much further fanfare, most of the officers vacated the premises, with only one or two finishing taking statements. Shay wobbled on the spot and Mister Briney lunged forward, grasping her arm to help steady her.

"Oh, those bastards. Don't even bother to do their jobs right, they're all on edge thanks to these…what'd ye call them again? Team Aqua, or some such?"

Shay slid her eyes closed and nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"Ach. Them. They've been cropping up more an' more lately, an' lemme tell ye, if I had been twenty years younger, I'd have given chase t' the thief myself. My body's not what it used t' be. Come, come, lassie. Let's have ye sittin' down now, afore ye fall over."

Shay didn't fight it, she just let him lead her back to her previous seat and she collapsed gratefully into the plush chair. She heard him sink down in the seat across from her.

"They didn't take yer pokémon, did they? The officers, I mean, not the thief."

She gave the tiniest shake of her head. "Mm-mm. No. That was probably on their to-do list."

"Good. If they left with yer team, I'd have a new reason t' hit someone. Not the first time I've crossed ugly paths with law enforcement, let me tell ye!" Mister Briney laughed, and as good-natured as it sounded, there was a strain in his voice, one that belied his anxiety. It was also rather loud, and it made her head hurt. Any other time, Shay probably would have laughed right alongside him.

A new voice cut in between them, and Shay peeped her eyes open to see a new nurse standing there, looking bedraggled and tired, but she had a relieved smile on her face.

"Mister Briney? Peeko's ready for you."

Mister Briney leapt to his feet.

"Is she all right?"

"Peeko is fine. She did have some minor bruising to her neck and wings, but we've taken care of all of that. She's doing much better now and is ready for you to take her home."

"Oh, thank the gods. Excuse me, lass. PEEKO! Peeko, I'm coming!"

Shay squeezed her eyes shut and grit her teeth as tightly as she dared, trying to wave the fresh new wave of needle-red hot pain that was rippling across her skull.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, do you need me to call an ambulance? You don't look so good."

"Is it going to be an ambulance or is it going to be a prowler full of cops?"

"I'm—I'm really sorry about all of that, ma'am. That was my colleague, she's not exactly the friendliest face we have on staff." A pause. "And it would be an ambulance. No police. I promise."

Shay hesitated, sliding her good eye open to peer at the woman. She was short, much like Shay, with a plump yet curvy figure. She wore white scrubs with red hearts and cartoony-looking Chanceys romping all about the white background. Her nametag read 'Bethany'. Shay slid her eye closed again.

"Is it going to cost me anything?"

"If you have insurance, it shouldn't. All ambulance rides are covered."

"…okay, then. Please."


The attending doctor in the ER looking over her charts was focusing on the MRI and CT results. Shay has spent more than half the night in the hospital. Most of the time was spent waiting for a late-night technician to get the MRI going. Other parts were done conducting a series of tests that Shay had already forgotten what they were meant for. Something to do with examining results for a concussion.

Hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait. Now that was a familiar concept she didn't miss from the military. Hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait.

She didn't remember even half the time spent in the ER. Everything was getting fuzzier by the minute. Her head felt like it was in a vise, with pressure incrementally increasing, and the hotbed of nails digging into her skull weren't helping matters at all. When Shay had been getting wheeled out of the MRI room in the radiology department, she mentioned feeling dizzy and nauseous. It didn't alleviate itself as time wore on, and on top of the IV fluids and pain medication the doctor had prescribed shortly after her return, he had a cocktail of medications to combat the new symptoms thrown into the mix as well.

Now she could barely hear what was playing on the television playing the top corner of the hospital room, it all sounded distant and muffled. Even the EKG machine that beeped in time to her heartbeat wasn't as noticeably annoying. The ringing in her ears had more or less subsided, at the very least.

None of that mattered at all because all Shay wanted to do was sleep.

The doctor wouldn't let her. Not yet, anyway. There was a reason, but she couldn't recall.

"Relatively good news. You definitely have a concussion," he finally said to her, setting her chart aside. "No brain bleeds, thank goodness, but it's still early. I'll definitely want you to come back in a few days to get another scan of things, to make sure you're still in the clear. Concussions aren't to be taken lightly, and a bleed can complicate things even further. You've also some fractures along the right sphenoid foramen—that's right above your orbital socket there, right where your stitches are. You said that you got hit in the head with rock shrapnel at the Pokémon Gym earlier this afternoon, correct?"

Shay nodded. The doctor made a small noise in the back of his throat. Concern flitted across his face as he reabsorbed this information, lips pressing into a thin line.

"Okay, and the medical personnel on hand there took it out, and patched you up, I can see that. What about everything else? Walk me through that again."

Shay wanted to groan, scream, sputter out an exaggerated sigh, or perhaps an amalgamation of all three at once. Instead, she bit her tongue and ran through it all over again. The doctor was polite, and only interrupted once or twice to have her repeat some things, wrote them down in her chart, and went back to listening.

"Okay. Okay, I got it now. That explains some of the underlying injuries beneath all the mess. The fracturing was from the rock shrapnel, and it looks like another was from the injuries sustained when you tangled with this Team Aqua fellow. Alongside the fractures from the rock shrapnel, you've some other hairline fractures along the temporal and squamous sutures, that's alongside your head above your ears; it's probably why you've been hearing an annoying, continuous ringing since the injury….you're going to have a nasty shiner for a couple of weeks, but if you ice it when you can, it should reduce the swelling and alleviate some of the pain." The doctor paused. What was his name again? Shay knew he had introduced himself earlier, but for the life of her, she couldn't recall and was too embarrassed to ask now. She searched his coat for a nametag but couldn't see one.

It was something funny and familiar, too. Something that made her giggle like a loon when he had first introduced herself.

"You'll need to get your stitches redone, and you'll need some pain medication and a few other things to help ease things once you leave here."

He went on to explain some of the medications he'd be prescribing, and when he was done, asked if she understood or if she wanted him to explain anything else.

She hesitated. "I'm probably going to forget most of this," she sheepishly admitted. He laughed.

"It's okay. You're fine. The pharmacy will have paperwork that can give you further details on everything. I do want you to come in again and see your—oh. Oh, that's right. You said that you don't have a primary, that you're traveling for the League Challenge, that's right. That's okay. Just come back in to the ER in a few days. Don't leave town before you're seen again. I'll put it in your file for what I want done and checked for when you do, all right?"

Shay nodded mutely, barely listening.

"Do you have any other questions?"

"When can I sleep?"

The doctor chuckled.

"I think you're fine to go to sleep as soon as you're discharged. Just don't collapse right outside the ER doors, all right? You're staying at the Pokémon Center here in Rustboro, correct?"

Shay nodded again. That was good. She could sleep. No risks at all with sleeping. That was the only news she wanted to hear about.

"Okay. After we get your stitches redone and we have you discharged, I'll have the nurse call a cab for you, then."

She was barely listening after he told her she was fine to sleep. He wasn't gone long before the nurse came in, with everything needed entailing to stitching her back up. By the time the nurse was done, Shay's entire face felt deliciously numb and soothing. It almost made up for the entire evening's events. When that was all done, the nurse left for only a few minutes, came back and started the discharge process, unhooking the IV lines in the crook of Shay's arm and pressing cotton balls and band-aids to the site. The nurse said she'd be back soon with the papers she'd need to sign before she left. Shay found herself dozing in the bed, her head lolling and jerking her awake before she could fully fall asleep.

A scarce twenty minutes passed, and the door to her room opened once more, admitting the nurse back inside. She was rather surprised when she came bearing a brown paper bag full of medications prescribed for her alongside the discharge paperwork.

"I thought I'd have to go the pharmacy," Shay muttered in stark relief. One less thing to worry about. One less thing to do before she had to go to sleep.

"Yeah, Doctor Farnsworth said he wanted you to have everything before you left the hospital tonight instead of making you come back in the morning. You're definitely going to need these first thing when you wake up."

Shay blinked and stared blankly at the nurse, who was holding out a clipboard with discharge papers to her. She signed the paperwork, skimming over everything. The words swam before her eyes and she gave up trying to focus on it all at once. Then it hit her and she stared wide-eyed at the nurse.

"I'm sorry, but did you just say that the doctor's name was Farnsworth?"

The nurse paused. "Um, yes. Hubert Farnsworth."

Shay stared at her for nearly a full minute before bursting out into hysterical laughter.


Shay felt like hell. No, worse than hell. She felt like hell had gone through a whole new series of trials and tribulations to make it an even worse hell, and then that hell went through boot camp hell. Everything ached and howled and protested at even the tiniest of twinges she made. Light seared the thin skin of her eyelids. As much agony as it caused her, Shay managed to just barely twist her entire body over, away from the early morning sun peeking through her room's curtains. She whimpered, feeling the electric tingling ache grow into a symphony of anguish and despair. Her head was full of angry wasps and every jostle sent needle-hot pain throughout the entirety of her skull.

This was worse than when she had had hip surgery…twice, and on the same damned hip, no less. She had been bed-ridden both times and had to rely upon the duty at the barracks to stop by her room several times a day to check on her when everyone was at work. When everyone was back in the evenings and weekends, she had to rely on the goodwill of others to make sure she was still breathing and eating and able to go to the bathroom and shower and just function before she could do it all on her own again.

Even her breast surgery had seemed laughably easy to endure in comparison.

This? This was worse. She would rather be bed-ridden than absolutely useless and unable to even string a coherent, focused thoughts together.

When she finally grew tired of hurting, Shay carefully and slowly pushed herself up to a sitting position, stifling all the whimpers and whines she wanted to exude. She eyed the half dozen orange bottles sitting on her bedside table. There they sat, innocuous and quiet, waiting for her. The words on the labels swam and blurred, but she finally managed to suss out what each one was for. Pain. Swelling. Nausea. Dizziness. Mostly pain, though.

She had to pause reading labels and squeezed her eyes shut, riding out the static and the squeezing pain in her head until it subsided to a dull roar. She downed the prescribed medication and laid back down. She dozed for about twenty minutes before realizing something.

It was quiet. So quiet, that she couldn't fathom why, and it was an aching silence that rubbed her the wrong way. She was used to noise—whether it was the hum of electricity or the quiet thrall of water in the pipes—but there was something missing. It took her another several minutes to realize just exactly what it was that was absent, and she very nearly threw up what little she had in her stomach—nothing but a cocktail of pills and water—when she lurched upwards with a heavy gasp and her heart beating like a battering ram against her ribcage. She waited until the nausea subsided before she moved again.

Shay just barely managed to resist the urge to flop back into the mattress and fumbled with her belt still attached to her pants from last night. The row of pokéballs attached gleamed dully in the early morning light. Shay hesitated, the pads of her fingers curled gently around Keno's pokéball.

Did she really want them to see her like this? Her face bruised black and blue, unable to even see out of one eye, her lip fat and broken, her cheek split open and angry and red. Shay had taken one look at herself in the mirror after coming back last night and had wanted nothing more than to hide under the covers. She imagined she didn't look any better, hours later, allowing the bruising to ferment and grow and swell to cartoonish proportions.

She closed her eyes, feeling a few tears eke out of her bruised eye.

I can't hide from them for forever, she thought miserably. Gently, she plucked Keno's pokéball off, calling upon the Marshtomp within. He blinked, bleary-eyed and wary, as he drank in his surroundings. Shay quickly cycled through the others, calling them all out and waiting until they all settled.

The hush returned, heavy and burdensome, but at least the space was no longer empty and uncomfortable. Keno was the first to react, shoving himself forward and pawing desperately at Shay as he stammered at her.

"What happened to you?! You were fine when we were outside the tunnel! Did that jerk do this to you? Where is he, did he get caught?!"

The words tumbled over themselves until they grew incoherent and rambling until Keno finally buried his face into her chest, arms grappled around her middle.

"How did this happen? You were okay, you just fine!"

Shay briefly stole a glance over the countenances of the others. Sela averted her gaze, ears pressed flush against her skull, tail tucking between her legs; Luna in contrast couldn't tear her little yellow eyes away from Shay's face, while her tail lashed angrily from side to side; Ambrose frowned deeply, tiny arms crossed smartly over his chest; Breela shivered and squeezed her eyes shut and was muttering something incoherent; Faye looked grimly between Shay and Keno, feathers puffing up.

"Keno," Faye called. When he didn't answer, she fluttered up onto the mattress beside Shay and gently poked his arm with her beak. Keno startled, lifting his head to stare at the little Taillow's serious stare. "Keno, I can't imagine you clinging to Shay is very comfortable for her. Maybe loosen your grip a bit?"

Keno immediately stammered out an apology and let go of his trainer, glaring hard in embarrassment at the ground and hands pressed tightly to his sides.

"Did you get him?"

"We did," Sela replied, and eyes turned to stare at her. "But he got away. We managed to recover the stolen pokémon that grunt had stolen."

This news startled Keno and he looked between the Poochyena and Shay.

"What stolen pokémon? We were after the stolen goods that jerk took!"

A pregnant pause settled in the air like dust, heavy and cloying. Keno did a double-take between Shay and Sela, looking more and more uncertain the longer nothing was said between any of them.

"…didn't we?"

"…oh, fuck me, I forgot all about that."


A gaggle of Whismur scattered in the wake of the sudden flurry of psychic energy that crackled in the air, seconds prior to a trainer and their little pokémon materialized into being in their home.

Shay stumbled unceremoniously, dropping to her knees and riding out the wave of nausea and dizziness roiling through her. A tiny pawed hand rested on her shoulder, staying there until she felt well enough to stand.

"You going to make it, or should I start writing your obituary?"

"You gonna say something nice at the eulogy if I kick the bucket?"

Ambrose grinned cheekily at Shay. "Only the nicest things you'd ever want me to say, which isn't much, to be honest. 'Here lies my beloved trainer. She was an idiot trying to do the right thing and died stupidly in the process.'"

Shay snorted then regretted it when it felt like a hot poker jammed itself right up her nostril and tried scrambling about in her brains. She waited for the red in her vision to ebb away.

"At least you're being honest."

Ambrose chuckled before sobering.

"We should hurry up. The residents of this place are not happy with us right now."

Shay nodded mutely. "I imagine not. Let's hurry and quit this place."

She quickly summoned Sela, and the Poochyena blinked against the murkiness surrounding her. She sniffed pointedly, snuffling loudly before light bloomed to life from her maw. Embers flickered brightly, beating back the darkness. Shay squinted, waiting for her vision to adjust. She brought Luna out as an afterthought. She needed eyes that could see in the dark far better than hers could.

Ambrose settled beside Shay while she turned to Sela and Luna.

"Let's sweep the area, try to do this quickly and—"

"Excuse me."

Shay paused at the soft voice. Luna and Sela turned to the source of it and Shay followed their gazes. A tiny, pale, squat body sat on the fringes of the light from Sela's Fire Fang, nervously fidgeting, as though getting ready to bolt at the smallest sign of provocation. It was a Whismur, she realized. Only Whismur resided in the Rusturf Tunnel. Thank goodness for that. She wasn't ready to be divebombed by hungry, blood-sucking Zubat quite yet.

The Whismur fidgeted some more, inching its way closer to them, hesitating to a stop, fidgeting some more, then inched a little closer once more.

"Um…excuse me?" The Whismur called to them a second time, its voice soft and shivery, like a soft breeze through leaves. "Are you going to leave soon?"

"We are," Shay said, keeping her voice soft. The Whismur flinched, surprised.

"You…you can understand me? Us? Pokémon, I mean?"

"Mm-hmm. Can we skip the whole 'that's great, you can understand us' spiel and skip to the 'I'm looking for something, I need help so I can leave sooner rather than later' part?"

Ambrose lightly smacked Shay's calf. She glanced down at him, mouth open to reprimand him, then closed it just as quickly, thinking better on it.

"Are you talking about that thing left here last night? The one from that human trespasser?"

If Whismur had noses, Shay was almost certain this one would be wrinkling its nose in mild disgust. The mere tone of voice insinuated as much.

"I'm going to take it off your hands and make sure nobody else comes snooping around looking for it, if that's what you mean."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise. I'll be the last face you guys ever see."

The Whismur, momentarily emboldened by this statement, shuffled closer. Luna bolted to her paws, back arching, the tip of her tail whipping back and forth in agitated little flurries. Sela's hackles bristled as the wild Whismur ventured nearer. Ambrose was the only one who seemed even remotely calm.

The shuffle, scrape, drag of something heavy heralding toward them startled Shay. Sela and Luna both whirled on the spot: Luna growling softly and Sela snarling. Ambrose shuffled between them. Luna cast him a sidelong glance.

"Relax. They're bringing the goods back to us."

Luna turned back and narrowed her eyes and stared off into the darkness. When the sharp arch of her back relaxed, Sela's hackles settled as well. Luna finally sat, looking more relaxed than she had moments before. Ambrose patted them both on the shoulders. Sela remained standing, at the ready. Ambrose turned his head to a quartet of Whismur that approached. Their ears flopped up and down as they waddled closer, dragging something between themselves. Shay crouched, holding her hands out. She realized what it was they were hauling together: it was a briefcase, silver, thick. It gleamed softly in the light of Sela's Fire Fang. She gently plucked it up, surprised at how light it felt. Something shifted inside, and it definitely had some weight to it, but it wasn't overtly heavy and cumbersome like she had been expecting.

She hefted it away in hand and the quartet of Whismur immediately scurried off, shivering and whispering as they went. The only one left behind was the Whismur who had first approached them. Shay nodded to the little pokémon, and then stood. Ambrose grabbed Shay's pant leg, while she quickly recalled Sela and Luna. The faint light vanished, and Shay could barely make out her surroundings. The Whismur stood off to the side from them, face upturned toward Shay.

"Don't come back, please."

She waved in the Whismur's direction, offering a faint and tired smile. "I'll try to keep that promise."

The darkness of Rusturf Tunnel faded away in a brilliant glow of psychic energy as Ambrose returned them back to their room in the Pokémon Center in Rustboro City.

Shay wasted no time at all in collapsing gently on the bed, dropping the case off to the side. Bright stars, residue of the light that had blinded her, still dazzled about her eyes, even when she slid her eyelids closed.

"Easy," Ambrose chided, frowning up at Shay. The curtain of hair over his sealed eyes shifted about, exposing them a little bit more to the world. He hummed softly, the frown remaining. He stepped closer to Shay and patted her knee. "You should probably rest. You don't feel that great."

"Yeah, I don't feel all that great, Ambrose. How very observant of you." Shay retorted, laying on thick the sarcasm and annoyance. She was so damned lucky that the grunt bastard hadn't gone back and taken up the stolen goods or ran off with them again in the first place. Several more unsavoury results could have happened as a result, ones Shay felt her insides squirm and clench at the thought of.

"What observation? I can't see how crappy you probably look. I can sure as hell feel it though."

She sighed heavily through her nostrils, and gently allowing herself to flop onto her back. Her head throbbed in protest and she winced.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I do feel like crap. I look like crap. I just want to curl up and di—"

"Don't."

The word cut sharp and sudden, like glass shards thrusting into unsuspecting flesh. Shay froze, the word on her lips. Her breath stilled in her chest, held there until it hurt, and she expelled it heavy and hard.

"Don't ever say things like that. Don't even joke." Ambrose said quietly. His hands clenched into tiny fists. "I've told you that quite a few humans come and go through our neck of the woods where we met. Do you remember that?"

Shay could vaguely recall the conversation had taken place, but the exact details were fuzzy. She nodded all the same, mumbling she remembered. The knowing smile that flitted across Ambrose's face was telling. It faded before it could settle.

"I avoided them because many of them felt…wrong. Empty. They let themselves drain out and they were just…shells, walking about. Some of them wanted to…" Ambrose faltered, his voice fading. "When you let yourself feel that way, it bleeds out into my kind. We take in those emotions and it wells up inside of us. It doesn't just stay with you. My mother warned me to stay away from humans, unless I chose someone that wouldn't let their emotional baggage become my own."

Shay chewed on that for a while, frowning as the words tumbled around in her head. She remembered the pokédex entry for Ralts, and how its little text box prattled off about their ability to feel a trainer's emotions. She hadn't realized it extended beyond to every person in their vicinity.

"That's kind of shitty," she said after a while in the quiet that stretched thin between them. Ambrose tilted his head up at her, waiting. She couldn't feel that now-familiar itch-tickle feeling that usually skittered across her skull whenever he was listening in. He was doing her a courtesy by listening to her rather than rooting around for her thoughts. Shay wanted to smile at that.

"I don't think a trainer should be forced to suppress how they feel if they decide to strike out with a Ralts. But I also don't want to make you feel the same emptiness I feel every time I'm having a downer day. Or week." Shay hesitated, trying to gather her words carefully. It took her a few moments longer than she liked. Everything kept spinning around in her head and she kept revising her words until she felt comfortable with them before she spoke. It was harder when her head was pounding, hard and dull. "I don't…always feel happy. I feel that especially now, given what happened, and I'm just barely keeping from dipping any lower by telling myself that it could have been worse. I know—actually…no. Scratch that. I don't know how it feels for you, taking that in from me. I don't want to pretend I know, little dude."

Shay reached for Ambrose. She flinched back, unsure if he'd appreciate her scooping him up to hold him close. Slowly, she retracted her hand away from him and had to refrain from chewing on her lower lip. Instead she settled for the inside of her cheek, worrying away at it.

"I can't promise to be chipper and cheerful and all that rainbows and smiles bullshit. I got issues. I'm…not happy all the time. I don't…always like the whole 'living' thing. It's…it's hard. Sometimes, it feels like I've got the weight of the whole fucking world on my chest and that's enough to keep me in bed for a few extra minutes, but then it gets attacked by high-strung anxiety attacks about how I need to get up, because I'm not the only fucking one that's got shit to do. I've got you guys to take care of, and before all this, I had to go to work, and that-that wasn't fun either. Stressed out, overworked, worrying about a million and one things before I even step out my room, planning not just my day out but my whole week within the first five minutes of being awake. If I could, I'd probably stay in bed for days. "

Hot tears pricked at her eyes, and it made her entire face hurt even more; the tightness pulling at the skin around her cheeks and eyes, her throat pinching closed bit by bit, breath coming in short and quick bursts.

"I don't want you guys to worry. I'm sorry if my head isn't in the right space all the time and I just…I don't…know how to do this without losing it, sometimes. Things really could have gone wrong yesterday and I'm just…using really, really bad humour to cover up, I guess."

She sniffed, trying to pull back the lid onto the can of emotional worms she'd just unleashed. Heat radiated off her face, she could feel it, and the pounding in her head that had subsided was beginning to make a comeback. Shay felt a few tears leak from her eyes in spite of the efforts she took to try and hold them back. She gingerly wiped them away, wincing when her face flared dully in protest.

"I'm sorry. I hate crying. I know I got lucky, and I shouldn't be upset, and I should be happy I didn't get my head completely bashed in—"

A hand curled around her fingers, squeezing them tightly enough to draw her attention, but not enough to hurt. Ambrose didn't look at her, because of course he couldn't—but he did tilt his head in her direction, smiling with a faint hint of little fangs poking out the corners of his mouth.

"You have a strange sense of humour. But I think I kind of understand. I didn't mean to throw you like that, I just…don't much like feeling that yawning emptiness. You…you dance on the edges, but you're not quite there. Not yet, anyways. I hope we can help keep you from going over into that abyss. I'd hate to lose you completely. I told you from day one, I don't want any other trainer but you. You're interesting. I want to see this to the end, whenever and wherever that is."

Shay felt any words she had left die on her tongue. She sat there on the mattress, with its blankets and sheets all crumpled and strewn about, with her clothes from the previous day laying in a crumpled heap on the floor at her feet, staring mutely at the little Ralts seated beside her. The room smelled like stale air and dried blood, dust motes and sour sweat. She had barely had enough energy to change her clothes last night—or rather, earlier that morning—before collapsing gratefully into bed. She had failed to call out everyone until she woke up. She had failed to remember the stupid stolen goods that idiot had been dragging around the city and had been stupid enough to get mugged in broad daylight. She had failed to capture that fucking jackass from Team Aqua to prove her innocence when she came back with Peeko in tow. She had very nearly gotten arrested and it would have been the second time in as little as six months, and if Mister Briney hadn't showed up when he had…

Christ, the only thing she did right was not get any of her pokémon killed and managed to rescue Peeko. Even that could have gone so very wrong—

Ambrose once more drafted Shay out of her thoughts with a very light squeeze of her fingers.

"You're overthinking things again.

There it was; that tickle-itch-scratch along the inside of her skull. Ambrose's smile broadened to an unabashed grin.

"We're fine. You're fine…relatively speaking. You saved that old man's pokémon. You got the goods back. You weren't arrested." He patted her hand. "Rest. Relax. You should also let the others out, so we can all go get something to eat."

Shay frowned. "I can come with you guys—"

"You can barely stand, let alone string together a coherent thought. You're starting to ramble and go off in tangents. You're in pain."

"I'm always in pain," she muttered miserably. Ambrose's smile faltered. Shay stood, wobbled until she stilled herself, finding balance on the balls of her feet. "And I can handle a little trip to the cafeteria, thanks very much."

She was actually beginning to feel slightly hungry herself. She needed something in her stomach besides crackers and jell-o—the only things the nurses could bring her late last night in the ER, and she didn't even eat all of it. Her nausea kept rearing its ugly head, tossing and turning her stomach to the point where she gave up trying to keep anything besides water down.

She needed food, and so did her team. It was a small trip. There and back again.

Not like I'm going on a Hobbit-sized adventure, she thought to herself. Ambrose slid to the ground, and ambled over toward the door.

"I don't know what a Hobbit is, but I'm sure you have a story behind it. Maybe focus on telling that while we all go get food?"

A distraction. That sounded like a good idea. Instead of focusing on how much everything fucking hurt, talking about something she liked might help distract Shay. She wasn't even all that mad he was picking up on her surface thoughts. She was just glad he was trying to help.

Shay fumbled with the pokéballs at her belt and released the rest of the team, one by one. Keno took one look at her before darting forward to cling to her and bury his face into her waist. Sela glanced around their surroundings, and after judging it safe, turned to Shay, waiting patiently. Luna took to the bed and curled on a mound of blankets, turning it into a nest. Breela huddled close beside Shay and Keno, occasionally tilting her body to peek up at Shay's face. Faye took her place on Shay's shoulder.

"Hey, guys. I know you're all probably hungry. Let's go get something to eat, huh? Oh, and I'm gonna tell y'all about Hobbits."

"What're Hobbits?" Keno mumbled against her before lifting his worrisome gaze up at her. He reluctantly released her, only to latch onto her hand as soon as he could. She squeezed his hand back, finding some comfort in his attentive, if slightly clingy, considerations. Shay stooped over to pick up Breela and tucked the Shroomish into the crook of her arm.

"Well, Hobbits live in holes in the ground. These holes aren't nasty or wet or dirty or barren and dry places. They're fully furnished, furbished, and refined for living and comfort…"


Additional Notes: A mixed bag of good and bad luck to chew on, especially when one hits the hallmark of chapter thirteen. I felt it appropriate for Shay, given her track record so far. I also hope that my portrayal of Mister Briney was well received; I do want to flesh him out a bit more in the coming chapters! Next on the plate will be getting everything where it needs to go, and the outro for Rustboro and the intro to Dewford!

I had fun times with this chapter and I'm glad I can post this up on a Sunday once more. I am going to try and keep to the schedule, especially the closer we get to summer! As always, I'd love to hear from you guys, so please feel free to stop by in the reviews and let me know what you think!