'Its so hard to be your friend, Jack.'

Diantha wanted to say those words so badly and yet, at the same time, knew she couldn't. Mostly because she knew that if she did say them she'd never be able to explain quick enough what she actually meant. No, the damage would be done. And with Jack the damage would be devastating. Of all of the Pack outsiders would be most shocked to discover that it was the Father of Johto who had the most tender of hearts. That was because he could survive what the outside world thought of it. He didn't handle it well but he could survive it. But those he let into his heart? An unkind word from them would be like a dagger in the throat to anyone else.

So instead she merely watched as one of her oldest friends in the entire world, the godfather to his youngest, stared at a Galarian Ponyta with the same rapt attention a 2 year old might display upon seeing the same Pokémon. Twice now she'd tried to get him to continue on but he's waved her off, creeping closer to the grazing the Pokémon. When it had suddnely let out a sneeze she swore he had actually said 'awwwww'. The Ponyta clearly knew Jack was approaching it and merely looked on with, Diantha could admit, the cutest look on it face. A stare that spoke of curiosity and amusement.

"You are such a beauty," Jack cooed, forcing his body to compress down even smaller as he moved along the grassy ground. She knew it had to be hurting him; Jack had complained in recent years that his joints were getting bad and staying crouched or kneeling for too long left him with his muscles locking up. Even keeping in shape as much as he did wasn't helping... the fact of the matter was that Jack was getting old.

'We all are,' she thought to herself as Jack reached out and plucked a tuff of grass and held it out to the pastel-maned Pokémon. 'I can deny it all I want but we're not young anymore.' The Galarian Ponyta let out a whinny of delight and happily took a bite, Jack letting out a squeaky little sound of joy as he got the little pony to literally eat right out of his hand. 'Feels like yesterday I was being cast as teenagers and young heroines. Now I'm playing their mothers or the battle-worn mentors of the next generation.

'Granted, none of us are aging quite like the rest of the world.'

Veela were known for their graceful aging and longer than normal lifespans. There were Veelas that she and Cynthia commanded in their roles as the Mistresses of the Veela who were nearly 4 times their age and only looked to be in their 60s. If a Veela maintained a regular exercise regiment and ate properly they could reach their 150s without a problem and even in their final days look beautiful in their own ways. Even when Diantha went gray she would still look stunning. Beauty turned to poise and grace, the dignity of the ages and all that. She knew it was quite possible that she would be out playing with her great great grandchildren while her contemporaries laid on their deathbeds.

"I think you are the prettiest girl I've ever seen," Jack said as the Galarian Ponyta raised her head up and licked his cheek. With utter gentleness he ran his fingers along her cheek.

The same was also apparently true of Speakers. Jonas had told them that Luiga had informed him that Master Speakers could easily match Veela in turns of the aging process. Something about how the blending of Pokémon DNA with a human's could slow the aging process and promote healing. The rest of the Pack had been surprised at that and it had been Lance who had pointed out that Jack wasn't exactly a spry spring Blaziken anymore. He was scarred and battered. Jonas had merely shook his head and told them he needed a minute, leaving them all seating in the drawing room of Rogue's End. When he'd returned he'd set a folder down on the table without saying a world. Only Clair had reacted, her face twisting in pain, but she hadn't said a word as the rest of them had opened the folder.

Within were Jack's medical records.

According to them, based on what had been found after the third task when Jack had been forced to go into surgery by his family and his doctors to deal with the hypothermia he'd suffered, Jack should have been paralyzed, half his limbs stunted or amputated, and most likely dead from all the internal scarring that had littered his organs.

It seemed that it was only a Speaker's healing that was keeping their friend alive. For while it was true that Speakers, like Veela, could age gracefully, Jack was pushing that ability well past its limits. The War had seen him on the front lines, especially after he'd returned from the Whirl Islands and felt overwhelming guilt for not being there for the Sons as they bled for Johto, and that meant that he had taken the most abuse. Everyone fighting on Kanto's side had known that if they killed Jack the chances of victory would increase a hundred fold and thus while an average Son may have fought 20 battles in a single siege Jack found 100. His fear of doctors and needles hadn't helped but still the damage wouldn't have been so great if he hadn't made himself a target. Lance in particular had been sickened by one report that described the horrors Jack had faced when he, Jonas, and Sirius had allowed the Kanto police forces to arrest them as part of a plot; Jonas and Sirius had admitted that despite what they had tried to do Jack had egged the jailers to focus on him and leave them alone. He hasn't wanted his brother and his friend to suffer and thus made himself the martyr. Diantha still had nightmares of Jonas fighting back tears as he described his brother's screams.

'Its so hard to be your friend, Jack,' she thought as she watched him press his head against the happy foal's, allowing the little psychic type to read his thoughts. 'Because you make us all love you so very much and then don't let us help you.'

She thought back to the end of the War, the months of chaos that had followed… and when she, Cynthia, and Clair had forced Jack to sit down and agree to see a psychiatrist. He'd tried to laugh it off, to claim he was fine, but Cynthia had killed that lie dead when she'd lowered all her mental defenses and allowed Jack's own emotions to overwrite her own, to allow her Veela empathy to flood her soul with her dear friend's tramua. Diantha had known it was bad but hadn't expected her wife to break down sobbing as the pain Jack buried deep within him had flooded her mind. Worst, the moment Cynthia had slammed her defenses back in place Jack had fallen to his knees… and apologized. Not because he felt what he did but because he couldn't stop her from feeling it.

"Sometimes I think something broke in him long ago," Clair had told her later, the three women having decided to stake claim over the shrink's waiting room to ensure Jack went through with the therapy. "He sees so many people, tough and strong and able to hide their pain and he doesn't realize that they do still feel it and express it they just do it privately. So he just… swallows it up because he doesn't want to hurt us. Because he thinks, in his own shattered way, that he is protecting us by hiding it. By killing himself so we might not worry."

What made it all the worst was that she, and the rest of the Pack, didn't see Jack the way much of the world did. In Johto he was 'The Father', the nearly mythical hero of legend. To most others he was 'The Butcher of Botanical Bay', the rebel killer who'd waged a war of vengeance on Kanto and then wiped out all of Little Surrey ('And you will pay for making them think that of him, Voldemort… I will visit a thousand agonies on you for that!'). A few knew him as a professor and a teacher, the famous tracker who gave lectures on the side.

But only the Pack knew him as the figure Diantha saw before her now: the kind hearted man who still looked at the world with child-like awe. The man that had seen Lugia and abandoned his hopes to catch him purely because he was humbled in his presence. Where most would have expected him to rush out to capture the Galarian Ponyta he instead knelt down and let it come to him, fully willing to let the young Pokémon dictate what they did.

Jack was their leader. He was also their innocent that they all wanted to protect. There had been times in their youth when they'd caught someone mocking him and the rest of the Pack had done all they could to keep Jack from hearing the sneered insults; when they failed he took it not just with pain but also a sense that he was in the wrong somehow, that he hadn't done things right and if he'd only been better he could have ensured they didn't feel that way about him.

'You make us love you so much but you don't let us coddle you as we want,' she thought as Jack released Baby Love from her ball. The Ponyta let out a happy cry and began to dash about, the little fossil Pokémon trying to keep up. Jack slowly stood and ambled back to Diantha, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"She wants to be caught," he said quietly.

"Then why haven't you?"

"I wanted to make sure you didn't want her first."

Diantha rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Jack. You catch her."

He rubbed his chin though. "Cynthia?"

"She'll catch another one if she wants one. You found her Jack, you catch her."

Jack nodded, taking a step forward before stopping. "Should I wait? What if Gabrielle wants one? Her first Pokémon. Or maybe Fleur-"

"Jack!" Diantha said in exasperation. "Just catch it! I can tell you want to train her now catch her!"

The instant she snapped out the words Jack shrunk down a touch, his head going down tighter to his shoulders and his arms folding against his sides. He had the look of a child that had been playing a game and been scolded for being too loud and was now embarrassed by his silly antics. "Sorry," he said, so unlike the teacher and mentor and Father, in both senses of the world, so many were used to. Her Jack… not the world's.

"Jack-" she said softly but he was already moving away. "Damn it," she whispered, cursing herself.

He made it so hard some times.

"Sorry about that," Jack said again as he returned, holding up a pink Love Ball that now contained the Ponyta. "I'll need to think of a name. What do you think about Brega? Aragorn's horse was Brego but this little lady needs a pretty name. Arwen? That might be too egotistical though-"

"If Luna where here she'd suggest Twilight Sparkle," Diantha stated.

"Twilight is a purple horned Ponyta," Jack pointed out. "Rarity would make more sense."

"…do you want to claim now that Jasmine watches My Little Ponyta and that's how you know those names?"

"No, because I watch it and love it," Jack said with a shrug and a smirk. "Though Twilight is Best Pony." He clipped the ball to his belt, along with Baby Love's. "Again, sorry about that."

"Jack, its fine. You wanted to see the Ponyta-"

"But you have something big planned and I got distracted."

"My thing can wait. You wanted to do this."

"Still, sorry."

"Stop apologizing," she said, grinning as she bumped his should with her own. She forced herself to keep her tone light and teasing even though a small part of her was frustrated by his need to apologize at all; ever since he and Lance had made up her friend had seemed to develop the crazy notion that the universe would balance out the scales by making someone else suddenly hate him. Clair had complained that his normally attentive nature had gone into overdrive to the point that she wanted to piss him off just so he'd stop offering her foot rubs and bringing home flowers. Jonas too had noticed Jack getting a bit more… clingy. Lance argued it wasn't just fear of rejection but everything he had to do to help out Harry that was making him latch onto them.

And that was why, while there was a touch of frustration over his actions, it was mostly sadness.

'You shouldn't be acting like this,' she thought as the two of them continued along the southern edge of Galar. They were having a bit of a warm spell, well warm for them with it being in the high 30s, which meant that they didn't have to fight snowdrifts to get where they were going. Which Diantha was thrilled about because it made what she had set up all the better that it was warm enough, and dry enough, for them to be comfortable. The Wild Area of Galar was a beautiful place, especially in the winter when fresh snow laid on the ground, but Diantha needed it to be clear of the powder for everything to go right. 'Not today. You should be greedy today… focused on yourself. Letting us pamper you.'

Today was Jack's birthday.

In typical Jack fashion he'd made it clear he didn't want anything fancy. Johto had tried several times to turn his birthday into a regional holiday and he'd balked every time. The citizens had finally gotten it after the 4th try, thankfully. Some students at Olivine Pointe still tried to return from holiday early to celebrate but Jack always asked them to spend time with their families so he could spend time with his own. No, Jack didn't like parties with a ton of people and presents and music. For someone that could so easily become the center of attention he was an odd little homebody. His family, both by blood and by deep connection, a private dinner, perhaps watch a movie… that was his idea of a perfect birthday.

But Diantha and Cynthia had convinced everyone that they needed to do something special this year, after everything that had happened, and they'd worked to get everything lined up perfectly. 'The hardest part had been getting most of the family to make plans for today,' she thought. 'Everyone was afraid of hurting his feelings by not attending.' In the end Clair had argued that with Fleur and Jasmine both working on establishing themselves in their chosen fields that it would be better to celebrate the next day, on a Saturday. None of them had liked playing on Jack's overly sensitive need to work around others rather than them working around him but it would be worth it.

Jack's parents had scheduled a plumber to come and look over Rogue's End and thus they needed to stay behind. Sirius wouldn't be able to teleport in till the weekend. Jonas was getting other members of the Elite 4 to cover for him so that they could also have an alibi for not joining in. Fleur was at a special training seminar for Josephs and their bank…

~Meanwhile, in Kalos…~

Fleur crouched behind a large padded barrier, holding her gun carefully in her hand. "So how did you convince the bosses to make this an annual thing?"

Bill Weasley, who'd transferred to Kalos for a year to study Kalosian Banking Practices and been assigned to mentor the younger woman, smirked and held up his own gun. "Team building. Strategy. Cut throat tactics. They gobbled it all up."

A few zaps filled the air and the two peeked up to see one of their bosses getting tagged by some 12 year olds that were also making use of Lumiose City's best Laser Tag Playpark and Arena.

"Last charge?" Fleur asked offering her hand.

"Last charge," Bill said, giving it a shake before the two leapt up and screamed, charging into the fray.

~MC~MC~MC~

Gabrielle had been invited to spend the day shopping with some friends and was using that as a chance to buy her godfather some more gifts. As for Jasmine…

Diantha frowned.

'I never did find out what Jasmine was doing.'

~Meanwhile, in Avalon…~

Harry frowned as the doorbell rang. Remus and Sirius were out and he wasn't expecting any company. Pausing the DVR (TNT was running 'A Spooky Solstice Special' with Joe Bob Briggs and Remus had been getting on Harry to get into the classics so he was watching Dracula) he got up and made his way to the door.

"Bring back more popcorn!" Leafeon yelled out.

"And sodas!" Hedwig echoed. His other Pokemon (including Zygarde who was outside under a thick warm that Firebolt kept heating up) all called out in agreement.

"Yeah yeah!" Harry complained, opening the door. "I'll-"

He froze.

Jasmine was standing there, wearing a fuzzy red and white sports bra, long gloves, a tiny skirt, and long red boots, a little red Santa hat on her head.

"Have you been naughty or nice?" she asked before glomping him, the kiss she pressed to his lips causing him to fall to the ground.

"…we're not getting popcorn, are we?" Leafeon complained as he heard Jasmine giggle.

"I'll get the spray bottle," Hedwig said. "Hey! Keep it PG-13 in there!"

~MC~MC~MC~

That left only the six of them: herself, Cynthia, Clair, Jonas, Lance, and of course Jack. The Original Six. The Pack. United for the first time in nearly a decade, as they should have been. Birthdays and other celebrations simply hadn't been the same with Jack and Lance separated at best and coldly glowering at each other at worst. But that had all been put in the past, they were united once more, and Diantha and Cynthia had decided to do something truly special for their dear friend.

"This is some place, isn't it?" Jack said softly, looking about with a faint smile on his lips. "Somehow it's just as I remembered it and... not."

"What do you mean?"

Jack spread out his hands as he searched for the right words, looking about the wide stretch of land that laid before them. "I remember how this place was when we last visited but now I find that my memories were muted. Like... looking at a faded photo and then seeing one that is bright and crystal clear and seeing all the colors as they were meant to be seen." They continued on and Jack took in a deep breath. "There is just... something in the air, you know?"

"I know," Diantha said, shifting to her right and motioning for him to follow. She refused to say what she truly thought, that what Jack felt in the air was something he'd been craving ever since that bastard Koga and twitched his finger: peace. 'You haven't known calm since then, have you? First was the War. Then it was being the Father of Johto.' She mentally sighed; Jack had never wanted attention, despite his ability to draw it. Part of the reason Cynthia and Diantha had been drawn to Jack and Lance was that they too understood what it meant to be the focus of the world while desiring a private life. 'Cynthia, Lance, and Jack were the heirs of powerful families. I already had won a Supporting Actress by the time we met the boys. Everyone focused on us and all we wanted to be was teenagers.

'You almost had your peace last year,' she thought as they continued on, Jack content to just look about the Wilds, soaking in the silence of nature. 'Jasmine was about to graduate, you had Olivine Pointe settled, Johto had grown used to you and weren't bowing to you whenever you passed… and then those damn Avalonians dragged you into their war.'

The last few months had been tough on all of them, to the point that Diantha could admit that this trip wasn't just for Jack but for all of them. The entire Pack needed to decompress, to relax and center themselves again. First had been the disaster with McNair, where Fleur had taken her first life. All of them had blamed themselves for that and feared the damage it would do to the young woman. Diantha was convinced it was only her Veela heritage that had allowed Fleur to recover from the trauma of taking her first life. That and being able to talk to the Pack about such things. Jonas had been the one to suggest that, reasoning that Fleur needed to hear that she wasn't alone.

Diantha felt her hand flutter and she squeezed it into a tight fist. Only the Pack knew that all of them had been killers before the War. Only they remembered that horrid night in Sinnoh, when Cynthia, Diantha, Jack, and Lance had been 16 and Clair and Jonas 13. Of the broken peace of that night, of the terror… of the filthy hands on their skin and what the six teens had done to survive. Of the loss of their childhood and what they'd done together on that moonless night to ensure they saw the dawn.

The night the Pack had been born in blood.

She forced the memories from her mind, of their pain and suffered and the rage that had led children to do things no living person should have to do, and let herself drift forward in time. After McNair had been the Parkinsons and that had been troubling for different reasons. While Patrick Parkinson had been a vile monster (the things the man had done in service of Voldemort… Cynthia shuddered)and none of them had been bothered too much by his death. They'd also known that he had a family but Harry's tales of Pansy Parkinson had hardened their hearts to sparing him purely because of that. He was a piece of trash and he'd raised his daughter to be even worse.

But what they'd been forced to do to get his wife to comply… the threats of death that could very well lead to Pansy seeing her mother's head get blown off… that had shaken even Jonas.

After that had come the frustration over Shunpike. They'd had plans for him, ways to use him to get in even deeper with the Inner Circle… and all of it had come crashing down with his arrest. The Nocturne Agents had fled, the few he was able to name had turned up dead, and all avenues had been closed off to them. So many opportunities long gone, shut off from them because somehow Amelia Bones had finally decided to do her damn job!

"You're thinking hard," Jack said, bringing her back to the present.

"Is that a Speaker thing? To sense hard thoughts?" Diantha teased. "Or are you a psychic now?"

"No, your lips just twitch when you're focused on things in that head of yours. It's how I can tell in your movies when you're truly acting."

"Is that so?"

"That last one, the police thriller, you were supposed to be pondering clues but your lips never twitched. But they did when you were getting breakfast with your partner. What were you thinking about then?"

Diantha scoffed. "That the producer was an ass for believing just because I'm gay I can't play straight characters. It's not that hard… I just pretend Cynthia is thicker and hairier." Jack raised an eyebrow at that. "Not a word."

"Okay, okay…" he smirked. "Though I have seen her naked and can attest that hairy is the last term I'd use for her."

Diantha glared at him; she remembered her wife's story of how, after Jack had come to comfort her after her aunt had publically attacked her for coming out, the two had gotten drunk and Cynthia had asked him to sleep with her, so she could see what all the fuss was about. "You've seen me naked too, Jack," Diantha reminded him. And it was funny because the tabloids all were convinced that Jack and her were and item and Cynthia and Lance had gotten together in order to produce Fleur and Gabrielle. Yet it was Jack and Cynthia who'd had the night of passion together."The Hoenn hotsprings?"

"That was on accident and you know I didn't mean too. That's like peeping on my sister!"

"But Cynthia wasn't?"

Jack grimaced. "I was as drunk as she was. Trust me, I didn't find it arousing." He grew quiet and looked about. "We were so young back them. So naïve."

"Don't let our past selves hear that," Diantha said, moving to walk closer to him, so that their shoulders occasionally brushed against one another. They made quite a sight what with Jack in a long black wool coat (she'd demanded he leave his beloved duster at home) and she in a white winter gear. He a blond while her hair was black as pitch. Scarred up flesh and smooth creamy skin. So different and yet Jack was right, they were brother and sister in all but blood. "We thought we were so smart back then. Knew how the world was." She shook her head. "We were so… foolish."

"Makes you wonder what we'll say about ourselves in another 18 or so years."

That made her smile. One or two times in recent months Jack had let slip hints that he didn't see himself living to a ripe old age. Fear and sad acceptance that an enemy would finally get a good day and he'd end up dying alone in some alleyway or forgotten place. That was part of the reason why she and Cynthia had decided on this birthday expedition.

Cresting a hill Diantha smiled as she spotted the others gathered near the small river, more of a stream than anything. A massive tree had fallen at some point and Clair was perched upon it almost impishly, reminding Diantha of the cute-as-a-button little girl the woman had once been. Because she'd been 3 years younger than all of them Clair had been seen as the baby of the group by Cynthia, Diantha, and Lance. Even Jonas, who was her age, had coddled her a bit. Only Jack had treated her as an equal and Diantha wondered if that was what made Clair first fall in love with him.

Jonas was standing at attention. The youngest yet the most solemn. To get a smile out of him was to feel like the skies had parted and Arceus himself had blessed you. To know his heart and have his friendship and love was to be the luckiest person in the world.

Cynthia was nearby with her hands in her pockets, while Lance sat on the ground idly twirling a stick between his fingers. Her dear wife and her final brother by choice if not by blood. They had saved each other so many times that the lift debts that went back and forth between all of them were a web.

They didn't rush towards each other, big hugs and declarations not needed amongst them. Not The Pack. Being together was merely a natural thing and was treated like the world correcting itself. Jack sat down next to Clair, hands resting on the rough bark of the tree, while Diantha came to a rest near Lance.

"Cynthia and I thought long and hard- don't," she shot Jack a look, the words 'that's what she said' stuck on his tongue as she glared at him, "-about what to get you for your birthday."

"No offense but it's not going to be much of a surprise, Di. I made the list, after all. With links." That was the problem with all of them; they were all so wealthy now that buying gifts for each other was more of a matter of one deciding to purposely not get something for themselves just so there'd be a gift to give.

"And we'll teleport in your presents and the food and all that soon enough," Cynthia said with a chuckle, moving behind the tree, Jack not even noticing that she had positioned herself behind him. Diantha had slid down onto the log so she was next to Jack while Lance made room for Jonas to sit near his brother's feet. "But Diantha and I thought of something special to give you... something not on your list. Something you need."

Jack looked about, curious. "And what is it?"

"You are Jack Kenway," Clair said, taking his hand in her's and giving it a squeeze.

"I... know?" Jack said, brow furrowing.

Lance though, not looking back, shook his head. "You are Jack Kenway. Not the Father of Johto."

"Not the Master of Speakers," Jonas stated.

"Not the Butcher of Botanical Bay," Cynthia whispered.

"Not the Heir of House Kenway," Clair stated.

He looked at them, lips pursed together. "I don't understand."

"Our gift is this," Diantha said slowly and with a voice lower than the gentlest wind, "today... you aren't any of the titles. Any of the personas. Any of the masks you force yourself to wear. You don't have to hide, don't have to conceal for our benefit, don't have to lock away your true thoughts. Today... you can just be Jack. Our Jack."

The ramifications of what she was saying hit him hard and fast. She could see it on his face as he realized that, for the first time since the Pokémon League he didn't have to be brave. He didn't have to pretend everything was alright. He didn't need to feel ashamed of being human and feeling like all the rest of them. He didn't have to stop himself before he acted and wonder what the world would think, how Johto or his child or those he mentored would think of him.

He could, at long last, just be Jack Kenway again.

Diantha watched as he tried to smirk, the right corner of his lips sucking into his mouth as he tried to force himself to remain happy. But his eyes were blinking and he was swallowing hard. His hands were trembling and his breath was coming out in quick sharp puffs.

She reached and caught his hand, Cynthia placing a hand on his shoulder.

The dam broke.

Jack bent his head and began to sob. All the pain, all the torment that had rested in his soul flooding forth. The agony that he'd been become a murderer. That he'd sent people who looked up to him to their death. With a smile on their lips. That so much of the world hated him and cursed his name. All the times he'd wanted to break down but didn't because of Jasmine, because of Harry, because of Johto, because of all of them... at long last he let go.

He mourned the boy he'd once been. The man he would never be.

Diantha kissed his hand while Cynthia hugged him from behind. Lance and Jonas reached up and patted his knees while Clair, crying herself, ran her fingers through his hair.

Later there would be smiles. They would run about like they were kids again. They would play tag and hide and seek and silly games like that. There would be presents and cake and they would leave Galar smiling and laughing.

But for now The Pack gathered around one of their own and, after so many years, let him grieve for all he had become.