It was hell. An inescapable hell.
The soundtrack to which was Brandon's laboured deep breaths, each of which was a battle for the Pyramid King. The flight down the side of the mountain had seemed interminable and yet, sitting in the lobby of the Pokemon Centre, Paul struggled to remember any of it. He could recall bits and pieces. He could remember commotion as the helicopter had landed, people had shouted as some medics had rushed outside to greet Looker. The rest was a blur of panic and frantic shouting as they did what they could to rescue the Frontier Brain. His remaining son had just stayed seated, his head in his hands, unable to wrap his mind around what was happening or perhaps unwilling. With every second, he had hoped and prayed that he would wake up and discover that all of this was just a nightmare. Until then, he willed himself to fade away and escape his reality.
What stuck with him most of all was the image of his father, the usually mighty and unflappable Pyramid King lying in stretcher on the back of a helicopter as a medic struggled with his charred right arm. The sight of it still turned his son's stomach. They had placed a mask over the man and IV drips forced into his unburned arm. Paul wasn't entirely certain that his parent had even been conscious as they had raced back down towards the city. From time to time, his eyelids had fluttered, opening and closing periodically.
The rest was a blur.
He wasn't even too sure how he'd found himself sitting here. He could just about recall getting forced into the helicopter by Looker, the man having to practically shove him in because he couldn't think to do it himself. That and somehow, he didn't want to see his father in such a state. He wanted to picture the man tall and strong, not suffering and wasting away. He'd drifted into the Pokemon centre just as Brandon had been rushed off of the helicopter with people shouting and panicking. That was the last that he'd seen of his parent.
Since then, he'd just been waiting here dumbly. There was little else to be done. Any attempts to assist him had been curtly shrugged off. When Ash and his friends inevitably asked him just how he was doing and if he needed anything, he'd told them in no uncertain terms to get lost. Shouldn't it have been obvious that right now the last thing that he needed or wanted was to be troubled by others feigning an interest in him just to make themselves feel better? He sat there. Feeling very little oddly enough. He knew that he should have been terrified, he should have been asking around frantically, trying to do whatever he could to try and think of something to be done for his family. Instead, he was just tired. Exhausted to such an extent that it felt as if every ounce of strength he had had been drained and yet somehow, he still couldn't find any sleep.
Ash had thought it best to notify the Battle Frontier had been notified about the situation, as had Samuel and whoever the woman from Snowpoint was. Brandon's assistant was on his way but likely wouldn't be here for a good few hours yet.
Paul so dearly wanted to be able to slip away into the nothingness that came with rest but for whatever reason, he couldn't. If he tried to close his eyes, the sounds of his father's laboured breathing of his brother and the agonized scream of his father echoed through his mind. It was inescapable. The pain in his right hand hadn't ceased. It felt as if his skin was still progressively being melted off. He grit his teeth and ignored it as best as he could. In the scheme of things, it was nothing.
There was the sound of clicking heels approaching. He didn't bother to open his eyes, assuming that it was yet another Nurse Joy coming to check if he needed anything or trying to usher him out of the lobby and into another room where he could better rest and wouldn't be disturbed. Some part of him hoped that if she thought he was actually asleep, then she might ignore him. Either that or she would somehow sense the hostility emanating from him and decide against troubling the boy sitting in the corner.
"Mind if I sit here?"
He looked up to see Cynthia. The woman was a little paler than he was used to seeing her, some dark lines lingered under her eyes. Paul frowned, but couldn't find it in him to tell the Champion to buzz off. She must have taken his absence of an articulated response as being permission. Wordlessly, she settled down in the chair next to the boy. He kept his gaze on the woman, waiting to see if she might have something to say or to contribute. Already, the boy was bracing himself for some sort of attempt to comfort him or to enquire as to whether or not he was okay.
For the time being, he tolerated her presence because, on all accounts, she'd saved Reggie. He would have died up on that mountain. At least that was what he'd overheard some of the staff claiming. Nobody had told him that his brother was safe yet, that he was going to live, so he took that to mean that there was reasonable enough doubt to prevent them from wanting to get his hopes up.
"It's been one hell of a day." The woman declared.
Paul didn't answer, judging the answer to be too obvious to need to be said. His father and perhaps his brother were dying. Heck, for what he knew, at this point both could be dead. He should have been asking after them but fear prevented him from doing so. Uncertainty, for once, was more confident than knowing given that he couldn't be sure that he would get the answer that he wanted to hear. So he went in search of any form of distraction he could find, latching onto the confused memories of what had happened on the side of the mountain.
"How did you know?"
"Your father told me." She seemed to catch on easily enough to what he was talking about.
"Told you? He never tells anyone about us. We're the embarrassments that he wants to forget about."
"That's not true..." Cynthia corrected him gently. "Your father loves you both and he's very proud of you. From what I hear he's just not the best at showing it."
Paul didn't reply. How many times had Reggie told him something similar? Assured him that despite appearances Brandon did care about them. He'd lost count. It had happened so often that he no longer paid any attention to it. Instinctively, even now, with everything that had happened, the man's son was inclined to dismiss any notion that his father loved him as being impossible. It was made difficult when the man had been willing to risk so much for him. So the boy did what he could to push that memory from his mind. He still had the presence of mind to avoid challenging Cynthia's statement, unwilling to risk starting an argument.
They spent a short while in silence. Paul found himself too tired to be irritated by the woman's presence. He fancied that another day, if it hadn't have been for everything that had happened, he would either have told her to spare her sympathy for someone else and leave him alone or, if he was feeling less suicidal, then he might simply have gotten up and moved of his own accord. Instead, all he could find it in him to do was sit there and wait.
"Here..."
Cynthia handed him a small plastic bag. He took it numbly, checking the contents without much enthusiasm. Inside, Paul instantly recognized his father's belongings or rather those he imagined that they must have retrieved from his clothing. There wasn't all that much there: an old folded photo, its edges now slightly charred, a silver locket, a harmonica and two gold rings. It had been so long since Paul had last seen his mother's wedding ring. He could just about remember the band on the woman's hands as she'd held him. It was a simple thing. He didn't know if that was just the way that the family had preferred things, seeing no point in glitz and glamour or because, as Reggie had told him on a few occasions, they hadn't had an awful lot of money. It didn't matter now. It seemed rather careless of his father to have carried it around with him in such a manner. Such a tiny object could easily have slipped out of his pocket during one of his adventures and been lost forever. The man's son could only assume that it had been his way of keeping his wife close and that he hadn't been able to do the sensible thing and put it some place safe.
How unusually sentimental of him.
Paul bit back a comment something along the lines of "what am I supposed to do with this stuff?", again, partially from exhaustion and also aware that such a response would be unlikely to get a good reception. Instead, he stuffed the bag into the pocket of his jacket and zipped it up tightly, out of sight out of mind. Only the silver pendent was exempt. It had always hung around his mother's neck, in every memory, in every photograph of the woman with her family. With fumbling fingers, her son removed it from the bag. Only a few hours ago, he'd tossed it away, discarding it as if it were worthless and thrown it at the man who had given it to him so many years ago. He couldn't remember why Brandon had decided to give his most errant of sons something so very precious. Had it been because he'd been going through an easier period? Or maybe a difficult one? Perhaps it was early on, shortly after they'd lost her. Paul couldn't recall, nor did it seem to matter. All he could remember was the man's words to him when he'd given it to him:
"This was your mother's. It meant a lot to her. Take care of it for her."
Your mother would have been ashamed of you boy… Those words came back to him once more.
Numbly, he managed to flick the locket open. The picture of his family looking back at him. Bright smiles and joy marked a stark contrast with the room he found himself in right now. He couldn't recall the last time that he'd looked at the photo. At times, he'd inadvertently caught a glimpse of Reggie's version and his stomach had turned at the sight of his father there. A smidgen of guilt took hold as for the first time, it struck him that this was the photo that his mother would have looked at whenever she opened the locket. He'd gone and defaced it by scratching off the face of the man that she had loved. Despite his best efforts, whilst he might no longer be able to see them, the features of his father were still crystal clear in his mind. Somehow though, they didn't match those of the Pyramid King. They never had, not since the cave in.
"Is Brandon going to die?" Paul asked, his mouth dry.
"He might." Cynthia let out in a sigh. "Your father's a fighter but that was a lot, even for him."
He was somewhat grateful for the honesty, having already been on the receiving end of the opposite once before. The news though didn't quite register. He knew that it should have had more of an impact on him but it didn't. The whole thing felt as unreal as the experience with Dialga and Palkia only a few hours ago. For a brief moment, Paul wondered if he might not have been going a little bit mad.
That strange man, the one with the long coat who was some sort of Police officer as far as Paul had been able to gather approached them. He did so cautiously, eyes drifting both from the teen to the Champion who sat next to him. Paul ignored the man stubbornly for as long as possible. Eventually though, he was compelled to look back towards the man. There was a certain weight behind his gaze and the teen felt his heart clench. When they'd lost his mother, the police had been around too. He could remember his father shouting and cursing at them. All of a sudden, he found himself tempted to jump out of a nearby window if it would mean getting him away from this infernal Pokemon Centre.
"I'd like to speak with you in private young man." He announced, making it clear that this wasn't something that was up for debate.
"Sure. Whatever." It was probably about all that he could muster.
"Would you like me to come with you?" Cynthia offered.
He shrugged his shoulders, the numbness taking over once more as some part of him prepared for the worst. Wordlessly, he got up and followed the officer. He ignored the looks that he was getting from some of the others in the building, ignoring their pity which only served to fuel his anger. They went into a small room, some sort of office which obviously belonged to someone else but had been requisitioned for this particular task. Looker took care to close the door behind them, ensuring that they wouldn't be interrupted and that this would remain between the three of them. They were invited to sit. It was only exhaustion which prompted Paul to do so, otherwise he would have doubtlessly stayed standing.
Paul just wanted it all over and done with. He had no time for dramatics or attempts to sugar coat things. It was only drawing things out. Standing there, he found himself wishing that Reggie was in here with him. He would have been just an extra piece of support, something that he was fighting tooth and nail not to need right now but was somewhat aware might still be required in a few minutes.
"I thought you'd like to know that your Magmar was dropped off a few minutes ago by a couple who didn't give their names and their Moewth. They did say to tell you that they hope everything works out."
"Seriously?!" Paul grumbled. "You called me in here to tell me that?!"
"No… I've been trying to make some sense of a few things. Since you're a minor, I wanted to try and contact your parents so that they could be here for you and your brother."
He didn't need to continue. Paul knew just what it was that he had discovered. There was no way to erase his family tree. Brandon was still very much bot his parent and his legal guardian, the latter title he now shared with Reggie. The youngest of the sons assumed that for a police officer, it would have been a simple affair to look up such details. One thing would inevitably lead to another. If he wanted to dig a little, he would be able to find some of the police reports or even the newspaper where his mother's death had been covered. Feeling exposed, the young man grit his teeth and averted his gaze, preferring to look down at the carpeted floor.
Sympathy seemed to ooze from the other man. All that pity, feeling sorry for the boy whose remaining family were now fighting for their lives and who abruptly found himself faced with the very real prospect of becoming an orphan. He hated it. Willing them all away so that he could be left alone.
"Obviously, I'm very sorry about what happened." Looker continued softly. "Is there anyone we can call?"
"No."
"You can't be left alone right-"
"I don't need anyone!" He raised his voice more markedly this time.
"Your father and brother then, is there anyone we can call for them?"
It occurred to Paul suddenly that there was no one for Brandon. Despite what Ash and his friends seemed to think, he was pretty sure that the Battle Frontier were colleagues in his mind before they were any sort of friends. At least that was the impression that he gave off whenever the man mentioned them. Samuel? Well, he'd doubtlessly want to know and had the privilege of occasionally having his name shortened by the Pyramid King but even then, their relationship was a professional one first and foremost. He was on his way anyhow.
Reggie did have some friends. At least Paul thought he did. His brother was so friendly and outgoing, so disgustingly keen to be useful and to help others that there had to be others out there who would want to know what had happened to him. Yet no names came to mind. Well, none save for one and it was one which he had trouble even considering...
"Urgh..." Paul was killing himself before he even spoke the words which he was already struggling to choke out. "There's that pink haired gym leader who runs the Veilstone gym. My brother left his keys with her. I dunno, I think they might be dating or something! I guess she'd probably want to know."
"Maylene?" Cynthia questioned. "I'll see to it that she's informed."
Whatever. Paul had no plans of sticking with Maylene if she showed up. She'd gotten herself into a pathetic state after losing a simple battle, what would discovering that Reggie was potentially going to die going to do to her? Already, the youngest brother was regretting his suggestion. He decided that he would just stay away from her, it wasn't as if he could imagine that she was likely going to want to come up and chat with him after their last encounter.
He folded his arms across his chest. His patience had vanished. He wanted to go. He wanted out. Even Cynthia was beginning to grate on his nerves. She didn't need to say anything. Her mere presence was somehow capable of rubbing him up the wrong way without him really understanding just why that was.
"Are we done now?"
"Not quite… What were you three doing out on that mountain? Was your father hunting Team Galactic?"
"No! Why the hell would he do that? We- We were camping..."
It suddenly felt like impossibly long ago that he had set off with his father and brother on their ill-fated journey. He had trouble even thinking back to it. So much seemed to have happened over the space of five days. The irony was, when Paul thought back to it, that the three of them had only really spoken to one another on a handful of occasions. He wasn't too sure how even they had managed to turn things into such a mess with only a handful of words but they most certainly had. He wished he could have gone back to when Reggie had first suggested the idea and shut his idiot brother up then and there. They would all have been better off, in more ways than one.
There was a knock at the door, causing everyone to turn. Looker called for whoever it was to come in. A nurse Joy tentatively poked her head inside of the room. She looked around only briefly before her eyes came to rest upon Paul. As soon as she spotted him, she came in, closing the door behind her. The boy felt his heart sink. He gripped the fabric of his jeans, readying himself as best as he could whilst simultaneously wishing for it all to be over.
"I'm sorry, I heard that Paul was in here. There's some news about your brother-"
"Well, what is it?"
"He's going to be okay." Nurse Joy assured him quickly.
Paul felt as if he could have collapsed. He slumped forwards a bit on his lap. There was a weight that had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. He could breathe just that little more easily. His brother would still be there for him. In the space of a few seconds, all of his worries and fears were banished and now seemed stupid to him. Sitting here like this with Cynthia and Looker was pointless. In a few days, things would be back to the state of normality that they had known prior to this insane idea.
The trainer got to his feet, pushing himself up away from his chair. He spun round to look towards the nurse, already preparing to leave the room:
"Where is he?"
"The doctors are just finishing up with him." The woman informed him, raising her hands. "You'll have to be patient for a while longer."
"So when can we get out of here?"
"Get out of here?" The nurse blinked a few times, clearly wondering if she'd misunderstood something. "Not for a while I'm afraid. He's going to need hospital care for at least a week and will be off his feet for some time after that. I was wondering if you had some people to contact."
"We're getting there..."
Looker let out a sigh and lowered his head. In an instant, Paul snapped into self-defence mode. He found himself taken back in time, to when he was younger. It hadn't been police officers but they'd been official enough for the man sitting behind a desk to seem eerily familiar. He knew what was coming and that the battle he had moments ago thought won, wasn't in fact. He remembered his father losing his patience just as much, trying to ram it home to those concerned that he and his family didn't need help. The Pyramid King had the benefit of age on his side. Paul knew that he didn't and that if came down to it, he would inevitably lose. Maybe that was why he decided to fight, to strike before they could get another word in;
"I don't need anyone!" Paul snapped back. "You heard her! Reggie's going to be fine!"
"He's also going to need care day and night. You'll be looking after him." The Nurse Joy explained softly. "I don't think you quite realize but that's a lot for anyone, especially someone of your age."
"I can cope!"
"Listen, son-"The officer began.
"Don't call me that!" Brandon had called them "son" sometimes, he didn't need anyone else picking up the bad habit.
"Okay..." Looker remained calm despite the clipped tone. "You're still a minor. Aren't there any adults who can step in for a-"
"No! We don't need-"
"This isn't something you're going to be able to opt out of, I'm afraid. If you can't think of anyone who can step in then we'll have to find someone who can." Looker was more forceful this time. "We can't let you put yourself in a situation which wouldn't be in anyone's best interests. It wouldn't be fair on you or on your father and brother."
"I don't care about-"
"I'll do it."
With only a handful of words, Cynthia managed to draw all attention to herself. Paul couldn't help but stare at the woman in disbelief. For a few seconds, he was quite certain that he must have either misheard or misunderstood. There was simply no way that the Champion of Sinnoh could ever possibly even consider taking care of him, not for any sizeable amount of time at least. As luck would have it, Paul found himself too shocked to actually respond with the hostility that he would have reserved for anyone else. The others, he assumed based solely on their expressions, were just as surprised.
"I promised your father that if anything happened to him, I'd look after you two." The woman clarified after a moment. "I intend to keep that promise."
Her tone left little room for debate from either party. Still, Paul couldn't help but wonder what was motivating the woman. Was it just pity? In which case, he found himself quite confident that she would tire of him and his brother soon enough and regret her decision. Give it a couple of days, maybe a week, and she would be out the door. That suited the youngest of the man's sons well enough. They would put up with her "good intentions" for as long as they lasted, she would tire (perhaps with a bit of a push) and then they would be free. After all, what could the two of them possibly be to the legendary Champion of Sinnoh?
Nurse Joy shifted somewhat nervously. Her gaze focused on Paul before travelling back over to Cynthia:
"Excuse me, you said "father". Do you mean Brandon the Pyramid King?"
"Yes." Paul responded dryly.
"Oh… I see..." The woman shifted uncomfortably for a moment.
"Well? He's still alive, right?"
"Yes. He's still in surgery…"
"So then we're done here."
He didn't give them time to argue or protest. Instead, he made his way to the door. The boy didn't quite run but he certainly didn't drag his feet. As soon as he emerged into the hall of the Pokemon Centre, he realized that he was going to have to find somewhere else. There were too many eyes upon him. They might not know about his relationship to the Pyramid King but they most certainly did to Reggie and that was enough to get all of the pitiful looks and extensions of best wishes flowing. He couldn't put up with that, not again.
Instead, he found his way outside. He could breathe again. The young man walked briskly, periodically casting a glance over his shoulder to ensure that nobody was giving chase. For the time being, he seemed to have escaped their good intentions. Good. Slipping his hands into his pockets, a gesture he promptly regretted as his right hand reminded him that only recently it had been on the receiving end of a flamethrower, the young man continued down some of the streets, walking aimlessly. He didn't intend to go far but he did want to ensure that nobody would be able to just walk out of the Centre and find him or watch him from the windows. A couple of blocks should sufficed for that much.
Some of the odd looks he was getting even from passersby did register. Paranoia caused him to wonder if somehow they might have gotten wind of what had happened. That they might somehow know who he was. That fear was quickly dismissed however and a more likely possibility occurred to him as he caught sight of his reflection in a shop window. He looked like hell. His clothes were a mess, filthy, torn in some places and singed in a few places. He himself wasn't much better having neither bathed nor taken care of his hair at any time. He could have just stumbled out of the wilderness having lived there for the past year. Paul did nothing to amend the situation, continuing forwards, driven by some unseen force.
He allowed his mind to wander.
The mountain where his life had finally finished its spiral into hell was almost beautiful in the evening sun. There was that cold little voice inside of him which told him that it was all in the past now. There was no changing any of what had happened and he couldn't allow himself to get bogged down by what had happened. He needed to move forwards. If he put his mind to it, he might even be able to think up some way to get Reggie out of the hospital and skip the whole "have a legal adult with you to help" thing that that stupid police officer seemed to think was so essential. Brandon would be fine. Just like he always was… He had to be.
Dragging his feet as he walked along without any purpose, lost in his own thoughts and oblivious even to the passage of time. Had someone stopped him then and there and asked him just who he was and where he was going, he likely couldn't have answered. Nothing outside existed, only his own thoughts spun round his head trapping him somewhere between madness and being a zombie.
In his mind, he conjured up an image of where they would be in another couple of weeks. His father and brother would be better. He would be off on the road again and away from the two of them. Things would be back to the way that they had been for the past few years and all the better for it. The teen dragged his feet a little. No longer paying any attention to where he was just headed or where he was, his mind elsewhere.
Your mother would have been ashamed of you boy…
He didn't know why it was that he was thinking of it now but he recalled himself coming to Hearthome before, years and years ago, long before his pokemon journey. He came to a stop suddenly registering his surroundings. Yes, he was quite sure that they'd parked down this street he was down now. It was vague memories, glimpses more than anything else. He remembered finding the city big and noisy compared to home. It had been scary, intimidating and he'd been reluctant to leave the car. For a few seconds, he could almost feel his father's hand taking his own, dwarfing it and making him feel tiny in comparison in the comforting way that Brandon so often had back then. Yes… They'd walked down this street. The four of them, with his mother and brother ahead and his other parent promising him that he would enjoy the trip and that he could get an ice cream if he was good.
He shouldn't be abandoning Reggie, not right now. The realization hit home suddenly. It caused him to spin around on his heels, looking back behind him as if he would find the Pokemon centre right there. He encountered only the street that he had been walking down. The teen stared for a few instants, trying and failing to mentally retrace his steps. Slowly, he began to walk back anyhow, reasoning that he couldn't have come that far in the scheme of things.
It was a ridiculous thing to be lost right now but standing there, he found that had no idea where he was. It had gotten dark. It wasn't quite night time but it was certainly getting there. The street lights had turned on as the skies above looked primed to begin raining. All the while, his hand continued to throb. Wordlessly and too proud to ask for directions, Paul set about trying to find his way back to the Pokemon centre. All of the streets, some of which at least, he was quite certain that he must logically have come down, all managed to look the same and yet completely different to anything that he'd seen before. It fuelled a sense of panic and despair which was beginning to take a hold of him. It was as if anything was slipping through his fingers and he was left falling helplessly, anything and anyone he might have been able to grab a hold of to slow or stop his fall.
Rain had begun to fall but still it registered as little more than a nuisance. He could soldier on. He told himself, he had to. Right now, there was no other choice.
"Paul..."
A voice caused him to come to a sudden stop. He recognized it insofar as he knew that he'd heard it before but he couldn't quite place it. They sounded uncertain, nervous even. It was enough to prompt him to look over his shoulder to see just who was there. The street behind him was empty or rather, there were no immediate likely sources for anyone to be shouting at him. It took him a few moments to think to check the road. Sure enough, parked only a few feet away was a cab, it's door open and Maylene's head poking out, still undecided whether or not she wanted to risk leaving the relative safety of the vehicle to face the one trainer who had almost caused her renounce her position as a gym leader altogether.
"What do you want?"
"I-I'm on my way to the Pokemon Centre." She replied. "Cynthia called. She told me what happened to Reggie, to your father-"
Say it, just say it. He needed to get rid of some of what was building up inside of him. The pink haired gym leader had already proven herself to be a good punching bag in that regard.
A couple of words. He'd heard them so many times today from so many people that he literally couldn't stand to hear anyone else even utter the words "I'm sorry". He could almost see them on her lips. His entire body tensed up, readying itself to react. If she were perceptive, she might pick up on that much and beat a hasty retreat. She didn't though, hovering there clearly with something else to say but not quite daring to articulate it. Paul's face clouded over, impatience growing with every single passing second.
"I'm um… I'm heading to the Pokemon centre. Do you want a ride?"
Paul stood there dumbly, blinking at the young woman as he tried to make sense of just what he'd been offered. Somehow, he hadn't quite been prepared for such an offer and so found himself woefully unprepared for it. In the space of a few seconds, all of his hostility vanished, replaced by surprised. He wasn't thinking too much beyond "well, it's where I'm heading" when he climbed into the back of the cab with her.
The gym leader slid over, making room for him. She took care to keep a certain distance between the two of them, clearly not entirely comfortable with the setup. Why suggest it then? It was all that it took to get the trainer's blood boiling again. He grit his teeth, turning to look out of the window as they drove on past. Even now, the streets seemed strange to him. He could have been wondering for a very long time indeed before eventually finding his way back to the Pokemon centre. If he ever would have… Next to him, Maylene shifted uncomfortably, casting him a few anxious glances before speaking quietly:
"Thank you for calling me or telling the Champion to-"
"I didn't do it for you..." He grumbled.
"All the same… Thank you."
Paul shifted away from her, turning his back to her as much as his seatbelt and the seat behind him would allow, hopefully sending a clear message. It must have worked at least slightly as Maylene abandoned all attempts to get him to talk.
He must have asked just how she'd managed to get from Veilstone to Hearthome so quickly. It couldn't have been more than a couple of hours. He decided against it. It wasn't that far in the scheme of things, no doubt Cynthia had pulled some strings to get her here so fast. Briefly, he tried to convince himself that her presence would likely be a pleasant one for his brother and might, somehow (although honestly Paul couldn't understand how), be enough to make him feel just that little bit better.
Exhaustion continued to weigh heavily upon the young man as the cab came to a stop. Paul more or less stumbled out of the vehicle, drifting towards the Pokemon centre in a zombie-like state once more. He looked down at the asphalt. His mind heavy and yet empty at the same time. It took him a few moments to register that the Champion was standing outside, waiting. For a moment, he feared the worst. Then, she smiled. It wasn't much, just a little but enough to reassure him.
"There you are..." She spoke in a gentle tone. "Your brother's out of surgery and is waking up a bit. You can go and see him if you want."
Finally, Paul found himself to be waking up just a little bit. The prospect of being reunited with his brother wasn't quite enough to get him jumping for joy but it did give him a spring in his step once more. He needed to see Reggie with his own two eyes. It felt like as soon as he did, most if not all of this nightmare would be over. In his mind, he saw his sibling sitting up in bed. A little the worse for wear but still there to greet him with a warm smile and assurances that everything was going to be alright. The mere prospect caused his heart to speed up. He followed Cynthia, the woman setting a slower pace than he would have liked, perhaps trying to temper his eagerness.
They arrived in front of a door, with a Nurse Joy and Chansey positioned outside. The woman's expression was a little graver than he would have liked. Instantly, he felt the anger come back to him, willing the stranger out of the way:
"Unfortunately, we'll have to keep things brief. He's still very fragile, so try to avoid any unnecessary stress." The woman cautioned them firmly.
What was she expecting? His little brother to start bouncing around like crazy, to try and force him out of his bed? Paul didn't respond, nor did he raise any objections or questions. Anything to speed this agonizingly slow process up.
They were allowed in a second later and Paul came to a screeching halt. Naturally, he spotted Reggie in the space of a few seconds. His brother was lying motionless in bed. Machines nearby hissed and beeped, confirming that he was indeed still alive. To look at him though, some might have questioned that statement. He was almost as pale white as the sheets that covered him. His gaunt face, mostly concerned behind the mask and the large bags under his eyes made him appear downright skeletal. To his little brother, he was scarcely recognizable. In the space of a few hours, he'd gone from being the strong and resilient big brother he'd always known to someone who resembled more of a living corpse than anything else.
Paul stood there, pole-axed unable to quite associate this person with his brother. Behind him, a gentle hand nudged him by the shoulder, encouraging him to take a few more steps forwards into the room and closer to the bed. The boy didn't need to look to see just who it was that he would find there. Tentatively, being driven more by the champion behind him than by his own will, he approached Reggie.
It seemed as if he might have been sleeping. It was only when they were right next to the bed that Reggie's brown eyes opened a crack. They moved around, lost before finally finding his brother and Maylene. They softened slightly, filling with recognition. There wasn't a smile to be found. Paul didn't think that his brother even had the strength to do that. The beeping of his heart monitor sped up just a little bit and still, his younger brother still couldn't move or react or provide him with some of the comfort and reassurance that he knew he should have. It was the Gym Leader who finally stepped forwards, placing both hands on the bed next to him:
"Hey there..." She spoke softly.
Reggie's body tensed up. Paul didn't think that it was pain so much as him trying to move for some reason. He made a strange series of noises which seemed scattered, inarticulate. It took his younger brother a few moments to realize that he was trying – without much success – to speak. Nearby, the nurse Joy who had been keeping a nervous and anxious watch began her approach. Maylene beat her to the punch however, reaching out so as to gently touch Reggie's right forearm.
"Don't try to talk. We're just glad to know that you're alright. You gave us quite a scare, you know that?"
It was with a huge amount of effort but Reggie managed just a little nod and for the briefest of seconds, his gaze came to rest on his sibling. It almost seemed as if he might actually have managed the impossible and a small smile had graced his lips. For a few seconds, Paul forgot about everything. He saw his brother standing there before him, just letting him know that everything was going to be alright now.
It was then that his younger brother dared to cast a glance down towards his sibling's leg. Someone had seen it fit to draw around his thigh, presumably so as to monitor the scratch which had brought him to death's door. A part of his leg was still bandaged up. The sight was enough to cause Paul's stomach to turn and all at once, he became aware of everything once again. Whatever illusion might have existed a couple of seconds was banished in a heartbeat. He heard the machines and saw all of the drips, and medicines being poured into his brother, presumably just to keep him alive. The nurse's warning from earlier came back to him as he realized this would be Reggie's fate for at least some time yet.
Reggie didn't have it in him to do much. Just to lie there and look at them. Even then, after a few minutes, it became clear that he was fighting to stay awake. Maylene told him about the pokemon he had left behind at his house and how they were all well. She assured him they were all waiting to see him and that Lucario was wishing him better. Paul liked to think it was doing his brother at least some good. It was certainly more than he'd managed to do…
"I think it's time to give him some some rest." Nurse Joy spoke.
Paul didn't protest. Although some part of him wanted to remain by his brother's side for however long it took for him to recover, another considerable amount of him wanted nothing more than to get away from him and the reminder of just how close his sibling had come to disaster and how much further there was still to go. He drifted away, giving Reggie one last sorrowful look as Maylene promised to be back to see him when he was feeling a bit better. He couldn't answer. Already his big brother's eyes were closing as he prepared to drift back to sleep.
Exhaustion drove him forwards. A splitting headache marked every second, thumping against the corners of his skull and yet somehow at the same time he managed to be light headed. Barely a few steps outside of his brother's room, Paul stumbled. He wasn't too sure what it was but he had to brace himself against a wall. Cynthia and to his even greater annoyance Maylene moved to support him. He shrugged both of them off. The gym leader jumped backwards as if he'd just slapped her. The Champion however was a good deal more stubborn. She stayed near to him, her expression serious. Silently making it clear that he wasn't going to be able to chase her away quite as easily as he might do others. Her expression softened after a few moments.
"Come on… Let's find you some place quiet. You need some rest."
There were no arguments to be found. Paul was exhausted and the promise of being left alone was indeed terribly appealing. So he trusted the Champion, following her. She lead him to a small room, likely another office which had been commandeered. It was quiet, he couldn't fault it for that. Mindlessly, he wandered over towards the window and cast his gaze outside. He was surprised to spot a familiar non-human figure standing motionless in the grounds just outside the building. For a moment, he even wondered if it might not have been a statue. That thought was quickly dismissed however, it was far too lifelike.
"What's Regirock doing outside?"
"He wouldn't return to his pokeball." Cynthia explained, approaching to view the sight as well. "They wouldn't let him into the operating room. I think that's about as close as he can get to Brandon right now..."
The notion of the Regis actually being loyal or having emotions seemed somewhat alien to Paul. Even by Pokemon's standards, the golems were strange creatures made of rock, steel and ice respectively. They were mighty as the forces they incarnated and just as difficult to read. He could only remember Regirock from his childhood and now that he thought back to the creature, it struck him that he knew little to nothing about the Pokemon. He could remember it in their old house, his father had had it use focus punch to help him split wood. He'd been allowed to give the command a couple of times, so long as he stood back. Seeing it there, it stirred something within the man's son that he couldn't quite comprehend. Nostalgia? Pain? He wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps it was fear. Fear that somehow his father's most loyal ally might be able to sense that his partner was running out of time.
Unwilling to face such a possibility, the trainer tore his attention away from the window and turned back towards Cynthia. She was busy with something in the corner of the room. He recognized it quickly and easily enough as being a couch. He approached slowly, already sensing just what it was that she was playing at as she prepared a makeshift bed. The woman paused only briefly to glance in his direction.
"It should be a bit quieter in here." She told him as if he wasn't aware of that fact. "You should try and get some rest."
He was so exhausted, he almost didn't hear her words. Without speaking, he settled down onto the couch, forgetting his surroundings. He'd been feeling like this for a short while and yet somehow, he hadn't been able to find any shut eye, no matter how hard he'd tried. He feared that this would be yet another repeat performance. Paul could feel that his muscles wouldn't be able to hold him up for a great deal longer.
As he lay there, his eyes fell upon Cynthia. She was busy unfolding a sheet for him to cover himself with. She'd already ensured that he had a pillow and presumably had been at least partly behind ensuring that this place had been set up for him to begin with. He found himself wondering just why. She knew what he was like. Usually, that was enough to drive others away. The only alternative motive that he could reasonably accuse the Champion of having was trying to make herself feel better through kindness. Even now, barely awake but equally unable to find sleep, he found irritation to be stirring within him. He didn't quite know what to say or even what he was saying, it was a discontented grumble which escaped him:
"Y-You're not my mom!"
Cynthia came to an abrupt halt. Her grey eyes fixed him with a look that he couldn't quite place. It wasn't anger, it could have been surprise. He doubted many people dared speak to her, much less people whom she would no doubt view as "children". Many others would have snapped back, demanded respect or turned their back on him and left him to his own devices. Not the Champion however, after a few seconds, her eyes softened. She brought over the blanket that she had been preparing.
"Of course I'm not and I'm not trying to be." She insisted on that last part before continuing more softly. "But right now Paul, like it or not, you do need someone to keep an eye on you."
"So what, you'll give up being a Champion to raise the two kids of some guy you sort of know just because of some stupid promise?"
"If needs be."
He rested his head against the pillow. Weighing her words heavily. When had anyone else kept an eye out for him? His brother and reluctantly he now had to admit his father had kept a watchful eye on him but beyond that? He didn't know if there was anyone else who could potentially have cared about them at some point but had since been driven away. Whatever the case, for so very long now, it seemed as if their family had been left essentially to fend for themselves. For all that, it didn't bother him a good deal. He didn't need any of this stuff. Not peace and quiet, not a couch to sleep in, nor a blanket to keep him warm. There was only one thing which lying there, he felt that he well and truly needed:
"I- I just need them to get better!"
He said it with a pleading tone, almost as if he expected her with a snap of her fingers to fix everything. Once more Cynthia's eyes softened with that gentle sympathy that he found a mixture of so annoying and also, somehow calming. She handed him the blanket, offering him a little smile as she stood there. He slipped it over his shoulders. Astonishingly, it served to double the already crippling sensation of exhaustion which he had been prey to for the past few hours. He felt his mind begin to dull down slowly but surely as he slipped away.
"Try to get some sleep. I'm just outside if you need me."
She left him a moment later and he was alone. The closed door offered him some peace and quiet. Slowly but surely, he gave in to the tiredness and for a short while, allowed himself to escape the world.