Chapter Eighty Three: Look at Me

Do I really want to leave?

Sandy paused, letting her guidebook fall to the ground. How had she not asked herself this before she had started packing, or in the days since Alaska told her their next step? It seemed the most obvious question to ask, yet it had never even occurred to her – why?

Leaving her bag on the bed, Sandy crossed the sweeping bedroom, the sort of room she had only ever seen in period dramas, and went back to the window. All of a sudden, Sandy felt as though she had spent three weeks at Bertram's mansion and never once taken the time to truly appreciate the view. Because of their position on the hill and the trees around them, they could see nothing of the outside world. The manicured blanket of lawn around the mansion seemed to simply give way to the ocean, which just went on forever and ever.

You don't have to leave.

Yes I do. Do I? Shut up! And Sandy forced herself away from the view, rushing back to her packing. Yet she only folded one more dress before groaning and coming to a stop.

"What's gotten into me, Butterfree?" Butterfree looked up in the middle of folding clothes, eyes wide and curious as ever. "I've just suddenly had a… epiphany, I think, is this what an epiphany is? I've only ever heard about them, never really felt it… it doesn't feel very epiphany-y though."

She sighed and sank into one of the many luxurious armchairs scattered around the room. It had barely been twenty-four hours since Alaska had told them they had to move on, their next mission already waiting for them. Sandy had gone along with it as always, rushing about getting ready, so much so she had never once stopped to think about if it was what she wanted.

"We don't need to leave this house, you know… and I don't think I really want to," Sandy mumbled, thinking aloud. "It's like a little voice in the back of my head suddenly woke up and realised I am about to leave behind that view. I mean, you've got magic eyesight, that's a great view, isn't it?"

"Free," Butterfree sighed, putting down the folded clothes before floating over. "Freeeee Freee Freee?"

"I'm not being rash, thank you very much," Sandy tutted, but under Butterfree's watchful glare she sighed, suddenly exhausted. Maybe I am being silly, I do need to go, don't it? But I have a bed here, I can get fed regularly… there aren't murderous robots…

"Well, you don't have to leave it behind if you don't want to." Sandy screamed and jolted off the armchair, clutching her chest. Bertram chuckled as he strolled into the room, a plastic tub in hand. "I was coming to give you these," he said, shaking the container so the cookies inside rattled, "but I suppose if you aren't going to leave, we can just eat them later."

Sandy forced a smile. "Why not start now?" Heart still racing, she jumped back to her feet as Bertram offered her a cookie. She took it tentatively, like a small child unsure if she was allowed or not, and sat silently back in the chair. Bertram perched himself on the end of the bed and they ate in silence. Sandy wanted to speak, but she felt rattled to have been caught out mid-thought and had no idea to say: was Bertram being serious? If he was, could she actually stay here?

The silence was broken by a shriek from the window. Sandy, Butterfree and Bertram watched as Paige soared into the room, nearly crashing into the chandelier, Pichu and Goomy screaming gleefully on her back. The sight made for a welcome distraction, and Sandy laughed for the first time in days as Paige did loops beneath the ceiling, briefly chasing after Butterfree before finally landing.

"There you are! I was wondering where you were!" Sandy beamed brightly at Pichu as he climbed carefully off Paige's back, mentally cursing herself for forgetting where one of her Pokémon had gone. "Thank you so much for playing with him, Paige."

"Otto," the Bird Pokémon chirped with a brisk bow. "Pidge Ot Pidgey Gee?"

"Oh, right… um, tell Alaska I'll be down soon – maybe twenty minutes?" Paige nodded, and after one final glance at her passengers, she spread her wings and soared out the window. A giddy Pichu ran up to Sandy with an infectious smile, but while she scooped him up and cooed at him, the brief joy she had felt watching him play was gone.

"Twenty minutes to decide your future, that's really not much time," Bertram remarked as he similarly cradled Goomy. "Though, I suppose I had to decide on my future on the spur of the moment as well…"

"Are you trying to one up me in my time of need?" Sandy said, unable to stop herself, and Bertram boomed with laughter.

"Oh, no, of course not my darling – though, if I was going to, I think we'd know who would win that one."

For a moment, Sandy was able to laugh, let some of the weight off her shoulders, but it didn't last long. Across the room, Bertram continued to smile chirpily, perhaps in some weak attempt at passing it on to her, but he stopped when it became clear it wasn't working.

"Well then, if you aren't sure about what to do, you just need to ask yourself what you're doing here and if you want to carry on."

Sandy rolled her eyes, tutting without irony. "You make it sound like it's as easy as picking which movie you want to see. We're talking about fricking robots here, Bertram!"

"Don't sass me, honey," Bertram fired back, stopping just short of snapping his fingers. "I only meant that you need to re-evaluate your situation and how it fits into your plan. I mean, you must have goals for this, right? Why did you leave home in the first place?"

"To get away from my father."

Bertram raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

"Well… yes, really." It always sounded pathetic and unconvincing whenever Sandy told someone that, but it was the simple truth. "I mean, I always wanted to see the world, but I had to get away from him first – he was drunk most days, really unpleasant, I couldn't stay there. When I finally got away and knew he wasn't coming after me, I realised I didn't have anywhere to go specifically and decided I wasn't really bothered. Wandering around the country just seemed like a good idea at the time. My mum used to warn me about strangers going after children, but really I'd take a pervert over a robot any day of the week. Is that insensitive? I can't really tell anymore." Sandy let out a deflated sigh and avoided Bertram's eye, her skin crawling as she thought of where she had picked up sentences like that from.

"Okay... hmm… why did you stay with Alaska then?"

Sandy shrugged. "Friendship. It's not that I was getting tired of Butterfree," she added, looking apologetically at her Pokémon, "but I needed someone I could actually talk to. I guess it was always meant to be, but at time we just randomly encountered each other and we both seemed to need it so there we have it."

Even as she said it, Sandy wondered if Bertram knew she was lying. It hadn't been as simple as following after Alaska. She felt ashamed remembering it now, but back then it had seemed so exciting: rampaging Onix, exploding robots, a cast of villains they had to thwart. If she had known where it would end up, Sandy would have run away screaming, but this fantastical view of travelling and saving the world, being like Leaf or Cynthia or Sapphire, it had been the most thrilling thing in the world. When Alaska didn't object to her presence, Sandy had followed after her, overwhelmed, for a short time at least, about the adventure she had found herself on. Part of her wished

"That was then, though. Are you still happy with her?"

Sandy had to think for a minute. It was a struggle to remember the good moments when so much of her journey had been dominated by nightmares – both those they had already faced and those waiting for them around the corner.

"Am I happy with what happens to us? No. I hate it all so much, but I have to grin and bear it because if I don't who else will? And Alaska… I don't hate her. I love her, like a sister – not that there'd be anything with loving her in, you know… that…" Sandy trailed off, blushing. "I don't like her sometimes, and really, there have probably been more times recently where I have wished to be anywhere but with her… oh god, that sounds really horrible, doesn't it?"

Bertram shook his head. "It sounds like something any reasonable person would think after everything you've been through." He paused, exchanging mournful looks with Goomy. "I guess it's time to ask the question then. If you can't be around her anymore, do you want to stay with me?"

And just like that, it was time to make a decision. Sandy could feel Butterfree, Bertram, Pichu, even Goomy all watching her, but she couldn't look at any of them. Instead, almost ashamedly, she fixated at the floor, wishing it would swallow her whole, take away all the pain and confusion that now engulfed her. She only had two options to choose between, yet somehow deciding between saying 'yes' or 'no' was always harder than having a dozen options. Sandy had never considered before just how much power those two words held: each one had the power to change lives forever, change destinies – or, at least, reveal them to the uninformed.

Cause it's not like anyone actually gets a say in this, she thought. It was like a penny had dropped – a sad, painful, heart-wrenching penny – and, with a sigh, she knew she had her answer.

"Thanks, but no, I… she needs me, I know it." Sandy felt her body slow down, all the thoughts that had been bouncing away inside her head crashing to a stop. She had found her answer, she should've been happy for the clarity, but really she only felt worse.

Bertram smiled and nodded, but even his cheeky grin couldn't hide the disappointment from his face. "I knew you would say that, I just had to make sure you found it yourself."

"I always knew it had to be this way, I'm just being silly." Sandy cracked a smile even though every muscle in her face resisted it. Butterfree floated down and nuzzled her arm, and it took all of Sandy's willpower not to break down right there.

"I should go make sure Alaska has everything then if you've got everything sorted." Without another word, Bertram stood and left. Sandy stood up as though to follow him, but he had already disappeared, Goomy a purple blur on his shoulder. Had she upset him by not agreeing to stay, or was he just as heartbroken as she was with the destiny she had been stuck with?

"But I don't… nothing's sorted," Sandy mumbled weakly after him. There was a tug on her dress, and she looked down to find Pichu watching her, his little yellow face twisted in a state of sad confusion she had never seen before.

And just like that, Sandy was broken. Everything she had been holding back – all day, all week, possibly since the moment she had met Alaska – it all came loose. She stood there, her entire body heaving, suddenly blind as her eyes less swam and rather drowned in tears.

"Free Free?"

"NO, of course I'm not alright! Do you actually think I want to go with her?" Sandy sank to the ground, falling meekly between the bed and the chair, unanchored in her grief. "I can't keep doing this, Butterfree, I don't want to, I really don't want to go with her. This whole thing, everything, it's just so awful!" She sobbed, tears falling from her face and pooling in the plush carpet.

"Freeee?"

"I know what I said, of course I'm still going. That's the thing; it's not up to me. I have to go, it's what I was shitting born to do, apparently," Sandy snapped, waving her arms in the arm. "The only reason I'm here is to ensure someone else gets to live their life without bloody screwing it up."

"Free Butterfree Freeee!"

"I'M ALLOWED TO BE MEAN! Imagine being in my shoes – well, you are, aren't you? I caught you, so you've probably got some grand role in this. Who knows, the world's never relied on String Shot to save the day before, has it, but maybe this might just be your time to shine, Butterfree!" Her whole body shook as she spat out the words, barely hearing herself, her tears and snot and animalistic growls consuming her. Her eyes locked with Butterfree's, and Sandy watched her, waiting for her to say something, but the Bug type didn't make a single sound, silently perching on her shoulder not moving from Sandy's shoulder, only looking at her. Sandy felt her lip quiver, and she fell to the floor as a second wave hit her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of that," she wept, and pulled Butterfree into her arms. "It's just… my life is worthless, isn't it? No, don't deny it, you can't," Sandy moaned over Butterfree's protests. "My entire life's purpose is to… I don't even bloody know; am I meant to help Alaska, protect her, cook for her? Is that why I was born, to make sure she has a balanced diet? Cause I haven't been doing that, Butterfree, so I guess I really am a failure."

She fell silent, throat too hoarse to carry on. Defeated, weak, pained, Sandy slumped face first onto the damp carpet and lay there, staring at the luxury of the room through her tear stricken eyes. In her heart, she knew this was the place she wanted to be, and part of her willed her body to dissolve and sink into the floor forever, so she could finally be somewhere that felt like home.

"When I think of everything that happened to my mum and dad, I wonder if all of that had to happen just so all of this could come after… Like, was their whole purpose in life to create me so I could protect Alaska? They achieved nothing after they had me: she disappeared, he became a dick. I actually pity him now, just a little bit. To think he had to be so miserable and horrible and nasty, all so Alaska didn't die the first day of her journey."

Sandy shut her eyes, trying to recall her mother. The memory got more distant with every passing day, every new nightmare that occupied her thoughts, but if she tried really hard, Sandy got the faintest impression of a woman with long flowing hair, saw images of a happy family frolicking in a park. It was all so long ago it felt like she was watching a movie, and in reality, Sandy couldn't tell if it was real or not, yet just thinking about that time made her the happiest she had felt in weeks.

If everything was really so perfect why did she leave? Something had to be wrong, right? Sandy shut her eyes, breathing deeply, trying to hold it all in, hold back the dark thoughts. It seemed she had doomed herself to a life of two halves: before and after Alaska – or was that before and after the prophecy? As much as she may spite her, Sandy knew this had nothing to do with her. The prophecy was not Alaska's doing, nor had it been her choice to tell Sandy how pointless her life was. She could at least sympathise with me, though. She's not the only one that's been cursed.

"Chu Chu Pichu Chu!" Sandy snapped out of her stupor, her head rolling lazily over towards the Electric types cries. Pichu was standing beside her, his tiny body shaking, eyes watering. Sandy gasped breathlessly, the site enough to start her sniffling again. Yet before she could make a sound, Pichu flung himself forwards, grabbing tightly onto her neck and squeezing so tightly sparks flew between them.

"Oh Pichu, it's alright… shush, don't cry… everyone's going to be fine." Sandy wrapped an arm around him, too tiny to hug him properly, and she looked to Butterfree, desperate for the support. Butterfree flew closer and Sandy reached out and nuzzled her chin, softer tears rolling down her face.

"You're never going to leave me, are you?"

"Freee," Butterfree replied, and Sandy smiled and shut her eyes.

There was a knock at the door. Sandy looked up for a second but turned away as Bertram walked in, Goomy still clinging to his shoulder.

"Back so soon," she mumbled, wiping her tears away, but when she looked up she knew there would be no hiding it. Bertram stopped for a second, smiling slipping, but seemed to sense her reservations and made no comment. "Is it time to leave already?" Sandy asked, relieved that she could suffer in silence.

"Soon, yes, I've just spoken to the captain and the boat is all ready to go. But I realised you've forgotten something."

"Really? What's that?"

"GOOO!" Goomy slid oozily off Bertram's shoulder and fell with a wet splat into Sandy's lap. Her smile made up her entire body, but Sandy still didn't get the hint until Bertram reached out and revealed a PokeBall.

"No, no, no! I can't take Goomy, you said she was one of the only ones left in the world," Sandy gasped and tried to grab hold of her but Goomy slid out of reach, smiling wickedly.

"I know what I said, thank you darling, and I still want you to have her – and I am not taking no for an answer!" Bertram placed the PokeBall on the bed and backed away.

"But… but… but why?"

"Well, now you always have a reason to come back." His sad smile made Sandy choke up again, but she couldn't bring herself to cry anymore, not with Goomy staring at her so cheerfully, nor with Pichu playfully poking her oozing body. "Hurry up, you have to go soon!" Sandy looked up as Bertram walked away, her puffy red eyes meeting his own mournful pair, and she was struck suddenly by a question she knew she had to ask.

"Were you really a prostitute?"

"I prefer the term rent boy, but yes, I sold my body," Bertram replied, pausing in the doorway with a sly grin. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm not sure…. I've just never met one before."

Bertram laughed. "If it reassures you, I haven't done that for a long time." Sandy smirked for a moment, but that wasn't the answer she needed.

"Talking about war, making light of what happened…how have you adjusted?" For a moment, Bertram didn't respond; instead, he stared wistfully around the room, smiling strangely, and for the first time Sandy wondered if the huge house and the magnificent lawn was not just one big distraction, something to think about that didn't involve death.

"You want to know why I was awake the other night? It's because I still have nightmares. I still wake up in the middle of the night calling for my father in the middle of the burning city or feeling around for my sister's cold hands. What I went through, what my people went through, it was hell on earth, and not a single day goes by where I don't remember what was done to us and what my country sacrificed for everyone else…" A sudden darkness descended over Bertram, and Sandy was almost afraid to see the anger in his eyes. It only lasted a moment, but it was easy to believe there was a lot of rage boiling beneath the surface.

"But even if I do resent everything, am I supposed to be sitting here in my mansion, cut off from society, bemoaning the loss of my region and people? What good would that do anyone? If you only focus on your grief, then there is no way you can move on from it. Remember it, of course, but if you define yourself by it, then instead of growing as a person, you simply become grief."

His words stayed with Sandy for the rest of the day, and she remembered them as he waved them off that afternoon, weeping beside Leaf and Janine. As Sandy watched him, Fuchsia, the house on the hill, and everything else slip away, she didn't turn away once nor shed another tear. Beside her, Alaska stood stiffly, false smile and cold eyes focussed on the journey ahead.

She needs me, more than she realises, probably more than I can give, but she needs me.

This wasn't what she wanted. It still hurt her every time she considered what this prophecy meant, the pathetic destiny that fate had bestowed upon her, but Sandy was not going to let that make or break her. She was in this now, and she would not let anything get in their way.

This has to be worth something, she thought as Fuchsia finally disappeared from view. I wasn't born just to be a sidekick. If she has to save the world, then I have to help her. It's not my choice, but I'm doing this my way. Mum… she didn't suffer through a loveless marriage for me to do anything less. She grabbed onto Alaska's hand, squeezing it to stop the tears from flowing again.

"Are you alright?" Alaska asked, the worry clear in her voice, but Sandy turned to her, and for the first time in days, her smile was genuine.

"I'm fine, everything's just… fine."