when he got there

The journey to Dawn's was incredibly tedious but otherwise uneventful. Besides the relentless downpour, of course. With so much time spent basically swimming in the rain, Paul half-expected himself to develop amphibious traits to match his environment, but, alas, he remained a pathetic purple-haired human, forced to trudge barefoot over blocks and blocks of cracked sidewalk and rugged tarmac road. By the time he reached Dawn's doorstep, he was too exhausted to be relieved.

"Okay, Dawn," Paul muttered. "It's you or dying out here, so..."

He rang the doorbell.

And waited.

And no one answered.

He rang again.

And still, no response.

Paul closed his eyes. "Dawn," he murmured. "I am going to get you to open this door whether you like it or not. I did not travel all this way just to have a repeat of my place." Because if Dawn didn't answer, he might as well have not made the journey at all. He could have fallen asleep (and probably contracted hypothermia) peacefully on his own doorstep instead of exhausting himself coming all the way here to die on Dawn's.

So he proceeded to ringing the bell over and over and over again, banging his fist (and sometimes his head) on the door surface.

Come on, Dawn, you can't sleep through this! I swear, I'm not some criminal trying to break in! Please, I'm begging you, just...!

He paused. How was Dawn sleeping through this? How was her mother?

With a jolt of horror, Paul found himself wondering whether he'd arrived at the wrong house. He stepped back from the door to get another look at the address number. It was hard to make it out through the rain, but when he did, he could confirm that it did match Dawn's house number.

He backed off even more to look at the house in its entirety.

It looked like Dawn's too, but the rain and his sleep deprivation could be playing tricks on him, because while there was no way a stranger would open up, he was certain Dawn's mother, at least, would recognize him if she checked through the door peep hole. Maybe he'd arrived on the wrong street, and...

Paul's brows creased as he recalled something. Dawn had mentioned on their friend group chat that her mom was going to be out of town for a few days. But what about Dawn? She hadn't said she was going too. She had to be home. He scanned the facade once more for any sign of her.

Yup, Paul thought as his eyes landed on one of the second floor windows. She's home.

Through the blur of darkness and precipitation, Paul could make out a silhouette in the window to Dawn's room. He squinted, trying to see if it was really her, and the sky decided to help him out by sending a bolt of lightning up above. In that one second of flash, the silhouette's identity became obvious, and Paul could just make out his friend's eyes widening before it went dark again.

Then came the sound of a window sliding open, and a voice calling over the pounding of rain: "Paul?!"

Paul walked to the window so he was right beneath it. Then, summoning every bit of strength remaining in his vocal cords, he said: "OPEN THE DOOR YOU TROUBLESOME WOMAN, I'M APPROACHING MY DEATH WAY TOO FAST OUT HERE!" The thunder bellowed through the sky to give his words more emphasis.

"Okay, okay! Give me a minute, Mister Morbid McMorbidson!"

The window slid shut, and Paul made his way back to the front door, shivering and rubbing his arms, hoping this wasn't some cruel trick of the universe and he really was going to get to finally be indoors. He could hear the thudding of Dawn running down the stairs coming from within, and then the door tore open. Dawn stood in the entryway, dressed in her pink pajamas, shock and befuddlement shaping her features.

"What in the world are you doing here?" she blurted out.

"Good night to you too, Troublesome," said Paul. "Or really early in the morning."

Dawn just gaped at him. Which, Paul supposed, was a reasonable reaction to finding the least likely person you know standing on your doorstep in the middle of the night during a rainstorm (which had turned into a thunderstorm, judging from the lightning that had flashed a moment ago). But her stare was getting on his nerves.

"Are you going to move so I can come in?" Paul snapped.

Dawn scowled. "Are you going to say please and thank me for rescuing you?"

"No."

"Bye."

She slammed the door in his face.

Paul stood there, blinking. "Wha'...?" Then a jolt fury and irritation (and, yes, panic too) spread through his skin. He banged on the door. "Troublesome, get back here!"

The door opened immediately, as if she'd been waiting right behind it. She placed a hand on her hip. "Yes?"

"Troublesome, can you please let me out of this cold, thank you very much," Paul said through gritted teeth.

"Troublesome?" Dawn repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine. Dawn," Paul spat.

"Dawn what?"

"Oh for... DAWN, LET ME IN, OR I SWEAR—"

"Okay, okay! Sheesh, no need to get so dramatic."

She stepped aside, muttering, "And you call me the drama queen," and Paul stumbled in immediately, rubbing his arms and breathing in that warm, indoor air. Dawn shut the door and eyed him in distaste.

"You're dripping water everywhere."

"Oh, am I?" Paul glared at her. "Gee, I wonder why!"

"Ugh! Well, at least take your shoes off."

Paul just scowled at her, and, evidently puzzled at his lack of compliance, Dawn looked down at his feet.

"Where the heck are your shoes."

"At home."

"Normally I would question why you were walking around barefoot in the rain past three in the morning, but then again, you're Paul."

Paul gave her an irritated look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Dawn shrugged. "I don't know. It just seems like the kind of thing you'd do."

"For your information, this is not the kind of thing I'd do. None of this was intentional!"

"Then what are you doing here like this?"

"Reggie wouldn't open the door."

Dawn blinked. "He locked you out?"

"Might as well have," Paul muttered.

"Why would he lock you out?"

Paul gave an irritated sigh. "He didn't. He's just too busy dying to notice me."

Dawn stared. "What?"

"I sort of poisoned him."

"What the heck?! Should I call an ambulance?"

Paul gave a dismissive wave. "He'll live."

"But... Oh." She narrowed her eyes. "You're just messing with me, aren't you?"

"No, actually."

"Har har, you're so funny."

Paul rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Anyways, I need a phone so I can scream at him."

"You sound a little hoarse to be screaming right now."

"Just get me a phone, Dawn."

Dawn huffed. "Fine. Give me a sec. Gotta tell everyone I'm okay."

Paul hadn't noticed she had her smartphone in one hand before, but now, her thumbs ran over the screen, texting.

Paul made an impatient noise. "Who're you texting at this time of night?"

"May and Leaf. Misty turns her phone off before bed."

"Smart of her, since apparently you like waking people with your need for social interaction at three in the morning."

Dawn glared at him. "No I don't! It's just sort of terrifying when you're home alone and someone starts banging at your door in the middle of the night! I was asking them if I should call the police or something."

Paul blanched. "You called the police?" he said, his mind swarming with all the ways this night could get worse if the constabulary showed up.

"Almost," said Dawn, finishing up her text and slipping her phone into her pajama pocket. "Next time you want me to open the door, don't make it seem so much like a break-in."

Paul ran a hand over his face and leaned back against the wall. "Just get me a phone."

"Yeah, yeah."

As she went to retrieve the house phone, Paul closed his eyes. He was feeling nauseous again, but his stomach didn't have anything to throw up left, so he probably didn't need to worry too much. Once he got Reggie to pick him up, he could go home and...

Paul opened his eyes.

Wait, how's Reggie supposed to drive in his condition?

"Here ya' go," said Dawn, returning with a phone in hand. "Make it quick," she said when he took it. "I wanna go back to sleep already." She eyed him up and down. "Annnnnd I think I'm going to get you a towel."

"Whatever," said Paul, too focused on dialing his house number to pay attention to her leaving. He raised the phone to his ear, but although he could hear it ringing, Reggie didn't pick up.

Paul let out a frustrated growl and dialed Reggie's cell phone number. He didn't pick that up either; the only voice Paul could hear was that of the answering machine telling him to leave a message after the beep. Paul waited for the beep to sound, then took a deep breath.

"Reggie, you are my brother and I love you very much," he said calmly. "But sometimes I want to claw out your eyeballs and feed them to Honchkrow, then throw you off a cliff into the Lake of Rage and watch Gyarados rip you apart. Right now is one of those times. Take your time getting better for your sake, because when you're better, I may not restrain my violent impulses any longer. Have a good rest of the night. At least one of us will."

He pressed the end call button and hit his head back against the wall to the rhythm of I hate you Reggie I hate you Reggie I hate you Reggie...

"Wow," came Dawn's voice. "Really feeling the brotherly love here." Paul turned to her and she threw a towel at his face. "I'm guessing he's not coming?"

"Won't pick up," Paul grunted, drying off his face and swinging the towel over a shoulder.

"So you're stuck here?"

"Unfortunately."

"Fun."

"Tch."

The windows flashed with lightning, and Paul couldn't help but be grateful there hadn't been any lightning when he'd tried climbing to his bedroom window before. The night would have gone a lot differently had he been struck down by a bolt of electricity (which, considering his luck thus far, he probably would have been).

Dawn sighed. "Can't be helped, then. Since I, unlike you, am actually a very considerate person, I won't kick you out. But you should really change out of those wet clothes. You'll get yourself sick."

"Oh yeah, because I carry spare clothes around with me all the time."

"No problem!" Dawn pulled her phone from her pocket. "Leave it to me!"

"Because you definitely have something I could wear."

"Enough with the sarcasm," Dawn snapped. "I'm trying to be nice here!"

"If your definition of 'nice' is trying to convince me to wear one of your dresses or—"

"What? Ew, no! I'm not lending you any of my clothes!"

"Good, because I'm not wearing them."

"I doubt they would fit you anyways."

Paul rolled his eyes. "Then if you don't have anything, no need to pretend to be nice."

Dawn glared at him. "How about you—"

Thunder crashed overhead, the boom so loud it shook the house, and Paul jolted upright and Dawn let out a little yelp and grabbed Paul's arm. The two of them stood still for a moment, staring at the ceiling as if it would fall in at any moment.

"Thunder," Dawn said finally, a little breathless.

"Thunder," Paul replied, nodding in agreement.

They both let out a slow breath.

"Well," said Dawn, letting go of Paul's arm. "So like I was saying, I'm actually texting a guy friend of mine to bring over something for you."

"You were not saying that."

"Well, I was trying to, but you kept... Ugh, never mind!" She began texting on her phone again.

Paul folded his arms. "I doubt the guys are going to be too thrilled about you waking them at this time. And they don't exactly live close by either."

"Let's see... send," Dawn muttered. She looked up at Paul. "Ash, Drew and Gary aren't the only other guy friends I have, you know."

"Then who the heck are you texting?"

"Lucas. He lives a couple of houses down the street."

"I doubt he appreciates being woken right now either."

"Oh, he's always awake at this time." Dawn shrugged. "At least when I text him."

"So you do text people in the middle of the night for your need for social interaction."

"Only when I can't sleep!" Dawn said, her face pinking. "And only if I know they're already awake!" She glanced down at her phone and frowned. "Huh. He usually replies by now..."

"Whatever. I don't want this Lucas guy's help."

But Dawn was already texting on her phone again.

Paul made an impatient noise. "Dawn!"

"Mm?" Her eyes were still glued to the screen.

"You can just forget it."

"And send," Dawn muttered. She looked up to see Paul glaring at her. "What?"

"I said I don't want Lucas's help. I'm totally comfortable in my own clothes, thank you very much."

Dawn raised a skeptical eyebrow at the water still dripping from his clothes. "Uh-huh."

"I mean it. I don't want this Lucas guy coming over."

"You're gonna catch the flu wearing wet clothes all night."

Paul scoffed. "You know being out in the rain doesn't actually get you sick, right?"

"Um, yeah it does."

"Um, no it doesn't."

Dawn crossed her arms. "People always get sick when they get soaked like that."

"Coincidence. Winter has ideal conditions for virus-spreading, so the flu tends to get around more then. I guess people started associating getting sick with being cold or something." Paul shrugged. "The cold itself doesn't get you sick."

"Are you sure? I'm pretty sure I've gotten sick from being in the rain."

"Yes I'm... Actually you know what? I'm not in the mood to educate ignoramuses right now. Point is, it's warm enough in here that I doubt I'll get hypothermia, and no, wearing wet clothes will not make me sick, so you can tell Lucas he doesn't need to bring anything—"

"Oh, I don't think Lucas is coming anyways," said Dawn, shrugging. "He won't reply. Must be actually asleep for once."

"Good."

"So I asked Barry instead."

If Paul had been drinking something in that moment, he would have done a spit-take all over his blue-haired friend.

"Wh-what?!" he sputtered. "Barry? You called Barry over? Why the heck would you call Barry over?!"

"What? He lives nearby too, and he's always up late, so..."

"No! I cannot deal with Barry right now!"

"Well, you should have told me that before!" Dawn huffed and took out her phone. "Fine, I'll just tell him to—"

The bell rang.

Paul looked at the door, and then at Dawn in horror.

"Too late," she said. "Barry's here." She walked up to the door and looked through the peep hole. "Wait a minute..."

"Dawn, don't open the—"

"It's not Barry," Dawn cut in.

And she opened the door.

The teenager on the other side was most certainly not Barry. He looked a little drowsy, but not like he'd been asleep. In one hand, he held an umbrella; in the other, he had a large reusable bag.

Dawn beamed, stepping aside to let him in. "Lucas! You didn't reply, so I thought you didn't get my message."

Lucas blinked. "What? I thought I did..." He shut the door behind him and put his umbrella down to take out his phone. After tapping on the screen for a bit, he gave a sheepish grin. "Guess I forgot to press send. Whoops."

"Hey, no need to worry! Just hope I didn't wake you or something."

"Oh, no, you didn't!" Lucas insisted. "Really!"

"Let me guess: playing an online game?"

"Oh yeah." Lucas's grin widened. "I found a new MMORPG, so I was checking it out with Barry, and we kind of got hooked. Your text was a good sign it was time to stop."

"Oh, sounds fun!" said Dawn, her eyes shining with an interest Paul hadn't known she had for video games. "What game is it? I might join you guys later if—"

Paul cleared his throat loudly. From the sound of things, Dawn and Lucas could probably ramble about the game all night if he didn't stop them. Dawn glared at him as if to say How dare you interrupt my nerd-out? and Paul responded by raising his eyebrow in an Aren't you forgetting something? way and Dawn's glare turned into a embarrassed Oh yeah look instead.

"Oh, is this the friend you were talking about?" Lucas said, noticing him for the first time. He gave an amicable smile (which Paul didn't return) and held out the bag. Paul regarded him distastefully, wondering how exactly Dawn had explained the situation to him.

"Yup! Thanks so much," said Dawn, taking the bag. She shoved it at Paul. "Here ya' go, now go change."

"I already told you," Paul said through gritted teeth, "I don't need some random guy's clothes."

"He's not some random guy!" Dawn said indignantly. "He's Lucas!"

"Don't worry, it's washed, if that's what you're worried about," Lucas said, gesturing to the bag. "Like, freshly washed. I was just doing my laundry right now. And I don't think I've actually worn those particular clothes a lot anyways, so..."

"Um, why were you doing your laundry now?" Dawn asked.

"Oh, haha. Well, I have this event to attend tomorrow - well, today, I guess - and I realized right before bed that I hadn't washed the outfit I was going to wear, and then I decided to do all my laundry while I was at it, and... yeah."

"Wait," Dawn said slowly. "When you say 'event', do you mean that event?"

"Yeah. You rememb—"

"Then what are you doing?!" Dawn's voice went from normal volume to a high-pitched shriek so abruptly that Paul jumped, nearly dropping the bag. "It's at nine AM, Lucas! How could you think of staying up playing video games when—"

"I wasn't!" Lucas protested. "I swear, I was going to go to bed early for once, but then I remembered my laundry, and I ended up going online for a bit while I waited, and... Well, I lost track of the time."

"That's exactly the problem! Out, out, out!" She began pushing Lucas towards the door. "Go to bed!"

"Okay, I get it, I—"

The bell chimed again.

"What now?" Paul muttered. He was getting tired of this. He just wanted to go to bed and fall into a deep, dreamless slumber for the next century or so. Was that too much to ask?

Dawn and Lucas looked at each other, but before either of them could react, the door burst open. And on the other side was...

"Barry?!" Dawn and Lucas blurted out at the same time.

"Where is it? Where's the trouble!?" Barry yelled.

Paul stared at the blond boy in horror. This had to be some kind of joke. But it wasn't: Dawn had said she'd texted Barry too.

"Where do you need help?" Barry babbled, waving a fist. "You better tell me now, or I'm gonna... Hey, the door's unlocked." He paused, gaping at the door as if he'd just realized it had opened when he'd turned the knob.

"Barry, what are you doing here?" said Lucas in surprise. "Didn't you say you were gonna keep playing?"

"Oh hey Lucas, you got summoned too?" Barry smirked. "I knew it! Whatever the trouble, Lucas isn't strong enough to handle it on his own!" He stepped inside, bringing with him a strong scent of coffee. Flipping the hood of his jacket off his head, he turned to Dawn. "You said your friend needs help, right? Where are they? What's the problem?"

Paul decided now would be the perfect time to retreat to the washroom under the guise of changing his clothes, but before he could take a step, Barry's eyes landed on him. From how they lit up like the lighter Paul used to incinerate the romance books Reggie had given him as a joke for his birthday, Paul knew the next minutes - or possibly hours - were going to be torture.

"Paul!" Barry exclaimed.

"Noooooo," Paul groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned away.

"You're here too?! This is great - it's like we're the ultimate adventuring team. You, me, and Lucas - we're gonna be unstoppable! So what is it, Dawn? Where's the dungeon we gotta conquer? The dragon we gotta slay? Come on, tell me tell me tell me tell me!"

It looked like sleep deprivation combined with caffeine (mounds of it, from the intensity of the coffee scent wafting off of him) and hours of late-night online gaming had turned Barry's mind into a nonsensical jumble of chaos. He kept prattling on and on about how his power and brilliance as a berserker would help them accomplish any feat because he'd done it a million times on his quests and Paul hated every minute of it.

"Dawn, get rid of him, please," Paul muttered to Dawn in undertone. "I'm begging you."

Lucas, who somehow not only overheard Paul's plea but also picked up on the distress in his voice, came to his rescue. "It's the middle of the night, Barry," he said, nudging his blond friend towards the door. "Come on, these guys wanna sleep."

"But Dawn said her friend needs help! We gotta go rescue them!"

"Barry, I only said a friend got stuck in the rain and it'd be a help if you could bring over some spare clothes," said Dawn exasperatedly. "It's nothing urgent. And Lucas already brought clothes, so there's no need to worry about it anymore."

"Lucas, you sneak, you went and did the mission all on your own!" Barry hollered. "Wanted to bask in all the glory yourself?! I'm gonna have to fine you if you don't explain yourself in ten seconds! Nine, eight, seven—"

"Okayyyy, we'll be heading out, then," Lucas said, grabbing his umbrella and pushing a still-counting Barry outside with him. "Night, guys!" He pulled the door shut behind him, Barry's voice muffled by the barrier and the rain until, with enough distance, they could no longer hear him at all.

Paul and Dawn stared at the door.

"You win," said Dawn. "I am never calling Barry for help at this time ever again."

"That might be the smartest decision you've ever made in your whole life."

"Shut up." She sighed and turned to Paul. Her eyes travelled from the bag he was still holding to his thoroughly annoyed face. "Just go change. You're dripping water everywhere."

"I'm not wearing this."

"Look, even if you don't get sick, I don't imagine it would be really comfortable trying to sleep like that."

"I'll dry off."

"How? It'll be next week before all that water evaporates."

"I'll use one of your hairdryers. You have, what, fifty of those? I'm sure you can lend me one."

"I only have three, for your information, and honestly, I don't want you using up all the electricity on this street trying to dry off."

"I'm pretty sure this street can take one guy using a hairdryer," Paul drawled.

"Paul," said Dawn, "I am sleepy and exhausted and I just want to go to bed, so quit complaining and go change so I can get some sleep before sunrise."

"You're sleepy and exhausted?" Paul gave her a look of disbelief. "Compared to the state I'm in, you've been spending the night in luxury!"

"Then stop arguing and go change so we can both go to bed already!"

"If you want to go to bed, just go. No one's asking you to stay up right now!"

"The reason I'm still awake is so I can throw your clothes in the dryer after you change!"

"I can do that on my own, you know."

"You even know where the washing machine is in my house?"

"Um, yes? It won't be the first time I'm using it, in case you don't remember."

Dawn's eyebrows furrowed. "I... actually don't. When did you use it before?"

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious? That time for my hoodie?"

Dawn looked like she was straining her memory. "Um..."

"Really? You don't remember the time Gary—"

"Ack! Stop! Stop!" Dawn waved her arms around, eyes wide. "I remember now! Gah, don't bring that up again!"

"Good, because I don't want to talk about it."

The two of them shuddered, and Paul was certain Dawn's mind was flashing with the same violent fantasies of getting revenge on Gary as his.

Finally, Paul sighed. "I'll just go change," he relented, trudging to the washroom.

"There's a hairdryer in the second drawer under the sink, if you need it," Dawn offered.

"I'll try not to use up all the electricity on the street."

"Much appreciated."

Okie, done! Let me know what you thought in your reviews!

Hm, next and final update for this story should be up in a couple of days. Hope to see you all then!

Bye bye for now! Have a great day, and smile all the way! :)