"Paul..."

"What is it?" He asked, still half asleep.

"Your father's had a turn."

His world sank. He found himself shrinking back into the couch that had become his home for the past two days. The young man caught himself before he pulled the covers up over his head in an attempt to hide from reality. He knew this wasn't a joke, nor was it an overreaction. That was why it terrified him so much. He knew that coming from Cynthia of all people, it could mean nothing good. The woman was paler than she usually was, the presence of some bags under her eyes spoke of just how much the past two days had cost her. Her expression was one of grave sorrow which left no room for misinterpretation.

They had been living on a knife edge about his father's condition for the past 38 hours. His youngest son been preparing himself as best as he could. His cruelty reasoned that Reggie was still with him, his big brother would be okay eventually. Brandon hadn't been around for a long time, they could cope without him. Paul had mentally listed every single incident that had caused him to hate his parent, every time the man had lost his temper or somehow let his children down. When that failed, he told himself that the old man was always always going to die sooner or later, likely from unnatural causes given the life that he lived. It had been bound to happen. Yet, despite all that, some part of him had refused to listen. It had convinced himself that the Pyramid King would be fine and that they could be back to ignoring one another in a few weeks.

The young man only stared at Cynthia. Perhaps she might have attributed his silence to still being in the process of waking up. She gave him a few seconds, giving him a few moments to pull himself together and come to terms with what she'd just told him. Finally, he managed to summon the presence of mind to answer:

"Brandon's going to die?"

"They think he might."

The realization hit him far harder than he would have liked, although to the outside spectator he would appear to be oddly unfazed by it. He just lay there, barely even responding to the notion that he could be about to become an orphan.

In truth, Paul wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling. A sizeable part of him refused to believe any notion that a man as powerful as Brandon could ever possibly die. He closed his eyes, practically willing away the past five minutes. If it were anyone else, he would likely have told them to stop reciting such sentimental nonsense and wasting his time. The Pyramid King couldn't die. He wouldn't. Not when he hadn't had the opportunity to scold his youngest son for his reckless and being so darned stupid. With Cynthia though, like it or not, he was forced by some power that he couldn't quite comprehend to show her more respect than he would have most people and by extension, to listen to her.

As he refused to answer her or even acknowledge her statement, the woman spoke a little bit more firmly now:

"Go to see him."

"N-No…" Paul shook his head vehemently. "I don't want to."

"You need to."

He'd spent the past two days refusing to go and visit his father. The sight of the man in the helicopter, skin burned black in places and clearly fighting back death with every breath that he took had haunted him incessantly. He didn't need to see any more of that. The next time that he saw Brandon, it would be with the man standing tall and proud as he always was, with that stern and disapproving frown of his. In his heart, he knew that she was right of course. He needed to go and see his father. He didn't know what he would do when faced with the Pyramid King. What could there possibly be for him to say to the man after so much had passed between the two of them? Eventually, he managed to convince himself that they would make the trip for his brother.

Reggie wasn't in any state to make the journey. Paul wasn't even entirely sure that his brother was aware of just how ill their father was. There had been something resembling a silent agreement between those concerned that they would try not to burden the young man with that particular reality unless absolutely necessary. He was still terribly weak and the doctors had warned them to keep stress to a bare minimum. Knowing that Brandon might die could easily break his eldest son but at the same time, his brother didn't think that it was fair for him to not know that they might be about to lose their last remaining parent.

Frantically, he desperately looked for a way out but found none, other than the fact that he wasn't entirely sure that his father would even want him there. They hadn't been on the best of terms the last time that they had spoken. He could have argued some more. Instead, the young man only bowed his head and accepted it. It would be simpler and easier, at least that was what he told himself. He would go for Reggie…

Cynthia guided him outside and down a corridor. He moved slowly, fighting with every step to push his ultimate destination from his mind or to wake up from this hellish nightmare he'd been trapped in. For the briefest of moments, he considered making a run for it. The door was there, unguarded. All he needed to do was turn and sprint. He would be free. He doubted that anyone was up for giving chase right now. He fought back the urge as best as he could, trying to fuel his resolve with the dislike and hatred for his parent he had spent the past few years cultivating. It did it's part, allowing him to at least pretend to be made of stone.

Ash was there waiting. Of course he was. Paul supposed that technically, he was the next person closest to Brandon here given than only a handful here knew that his two sons were actually in the building. The sight of his rival caused the Pyramid King's blood to boil. He fought the anger back as best as he could. His hatred was both tempered and made worse by the knowledge that much of this mess was a prison of his own making. He had insisted upon being strangers with Brandon. Maybe if he'd greeted the man as his father back at the Battle Pyramid things would have been different. They weren't though, his reality was altogether different. The other trained seemed a bit surprised to see him, which was no real surprise. After all, as far as he was concerned, the Frontier Brain and his latest challenger weren't exactly on good terms. At the very least, no comments were made.

They made their way silently through the corridors. It felt almost like the last mile, walking towards an electric chair to Paul. His heart was in his mouth. Every step he took was agony. The burned skin on the back of his right hand hurt as he forced his hands into his pockets. It was about all that he could do to conceal his shaking.

They were made to slip on gowns, masks, hairnets and gloves. Yet another irritation but one which Paul put up with. He braced himself as best as was humanly possible, aware that he likely wouldn't like what he was about to discover but equally that there wasn't a way out for him. He had to do this. Subconsciously, he found himself moving more slowly, sticking closer to Cynthia than he otherwise would have. She kept on a steady pace, unwavering. Somehow, that was something of a comfort. It was enough to drive him forwards.

As soon as he caught sight of his father though, he stopped dead. That wasn't Brandon. That couldn't be the Pyramid King. There was no way that this man, bandaged up and contacted to more machines than Paul cared to count could be his parent. He was unconscious or rather in a coma. The doctor had warned them not to expect much in terms of responses. He likely wouldn't even know that they were there. So the question arose in his son's mind: just why bother with any of this anyhow? Whose benefit was it for? It couldn't possibly be for the man in the bed since he would be oblivious to it all. His son didn't particularly want to be here either…

Paul came close to bolting. Seeing his father like this brought it all back to him. Everything that he had been trying so desperately hard to push from his mind came back with the force of an explosion in a muddled mess. His first and most instinctive reaction was to run, even those his legs were made of lead and prevented him from taking so much as another step in any direction. With his own two eyes, he now most definitely had proof that the man he had once thought was invincible was indeed dying. All he could think to say was:

"Wh-What happened to his arm?"

"It was so badly burned." The doctor informed him. "They couldn't save it."

It was an odd thought but Paul found himself thinking just everything that arm of Brandon's had seen. How many adventures it had been on. All of the pokeballs it must have thrown. The cliffs it had helped him climb. Ancient doors it had opened. It had been his dominant hand. The one he had used to write in that journal of his. It had been adorned with his wedding ring and had held the hand of the woman that he loved. It had saved his life or those of others countless times and had been lost in the space of a few hours. Did the Pyramid King even know what he had lost? He must have been under anaesthetic when it had been removed but prior to that? Did he know how much had been taken from him?

How many times had that arm wrapped itself around the man's youngest son, pulling him in for a hug or picking him up so as to carry him on his shoulder?

Now the man was left with just a stump.

Ash was brave enough to allow himself to drift just a little bit closer to the man. Paul didn't pay the other, more openly emotional teenager much heed. He wasn't entirely sure if he felt anything right now. For whatever reason, he found himself to be thinking back to days that he hadn't thought of in years. For a few brief instants, it seemed to him that it wasn't the Pyramid King there but rather the man that he had once been. That parent whom a much younger and more innocent Paul had adored. He could see the man now, sitting in the old rocking chair reading one of his archaeology books whilst his wife taught their sons to ride on the back of her Ponyta. He missed the man's smile. The way that he'd laughed and told them how brave they were being. Why had they lost all that? Everything seemed so stupid suddenly as the teen was faced with the prospect of losing the only parent he had left.

Shaking, he took a few steps forwards so as to look at the man's face. He tried his best to see past the bandages and picture the features that he knew would be concealed underneath. He imagined the man as he had been only a few days ago, back when it was okay to hate him.

He heard the Frontier's Brain screaming and howling as he'd been set ablaze. He could almost feel the man's arms around him, stubbornly refusing to release his son as he shielded him from the inferno as best as he could. It had been a stupid thing to do. Foolish. Brandon wasn't stupid, not even Paul would have claimed that much. He must have known what would happen. Houndoom's flames were merciless. Surely, as he'd rushed in to rescue his son, he must have been aware that there was a very good chance that he would die. Yet somehow, that trade must have seemed worthwhile in the man's mind. To his son's bafflement, Brandon had made a decision that he doubted anyone else would have…

"You damn idiot!" Paul shouted at the man.

In a second, he shattered the relative peace and quiet of the hospital, causing all but Cynthia to jump. He didn't care for them staring at him, the looks of shock turning quickly to disbelief and then anger. All he could do look at his father, a man dying for the son who had only a few hours prior to the incident cut all ties with him and spat everything that the Frontier Brain might have offered back in his face. The teen didn't understand it and the most simple and likely of explanations for the man's actions, he didn't want to hear.

After a few seconds of stunned silent, Ash's face turned to thunder, his hands balling into fists stepping between Paul and the Frontier Brain as if to act as a barrier.

"Hey wait a minute! Paul you have no right to talk to Brandon like that!"

"I have every freaking right!" Paul shouted back before suddenly stopping. A chill took a hold of him as suddenly, the reality of the situation hit home. "He… He's my father."

When had he last admitted that to a stranger? Only when he was forced. It was like pulling teeth. He would deny all relation to the king of the Battle Pyramid unless there was absolutely no choice. Now, it had just slipped out. It all seemed futile, silly. He couldn't even quite recall just why it was that he'd been so desperate to deny any connection to the man beyond the fact that he was responsible for his brother's humiliation. Almost as soon as the words had slipped out though, he regretted them. Not necessarily because he wanted to distance himself with Brandon but all of a sudden he felt naked, exposed for the first time in so many years.

Seeing the shock and disbelief on Ash's face, he was certain that he would be judged, as would his father because what sort of parent and son behaved the way that they did? People would think Brandon cold, distant, poorly suited for being a father and his son? Well, Paul didn't think there was much more than he could have done to make a terrible name for himself. He'd heard it all before back in their darkest of days.

What was done was done. He came painfully to that realization and accepted the fact that he would have to live with that fact now.

At the very least, he seemed to have been able to stun the other's into such a state of silence that they weren't going to trouble him any more. There was something that needed to be done. There was a little voice inside his head, one that was rarely heard and that somehow managed to be heard over all of the anger and pain so as to speak in a kind little whisper…

"Is it okay if I leave something with him?"

"Depends what it is..." The nurse replied quietly.

"A photo."

"You can leave it on the table."

Paul reached into his pocket and pulled out the small bag Cynthia had given him a few days ago. He hadn't bothered to look at it since then or rather hadn't been able to find it within him to do so. He opened it up and pulled out the photograph that Brandon had kept on him so diligently all those years. He unfolded the piece of paper, revealing the image within. He needed to shift a little bit closer to the man, the sound of his artificially aided but still strained breathing reached his ears. The Pyramid King's son tried not to focus too much on his parent, instead, leaving the photo so that if somehow, by some miracle, his father were to awaken and turn his head, he would be able to see it and be greeted with smiling faces from the family he had once loved.

It was a small gesture, some recognition of what the man had sacrificed for him.

He was aware of Ash staring at the small photograph that confirmed two things: that his rival and the Pyramid King were indeed father and son and that both were fully aware of the relation and had been for some time.

He needed to go. To escape. Every second in here, in the company of his dying father, it felt as if the world was collapsing around him once more. He stepped away from the bed slowly, unable to quite turn his back on the man. Paul found himself to be shaking. He might have been about to break down. He fought back any tears that might perhaps have come and was successful. Still, he couldn't help but turn towards Cynthia. He could only make out the woman's grey eyes resting upon him, pained and full of that compassion that was so utterly maddening.

"You'll stay with him?" It was a request as much as a question.

"Of course."

He nodded once, grateful. Brandon wouldn't be alone, no matter what came next.

The young trainer said nothing. It took about all of his self-discipline to avoid breaking into a run as he went back the way that they had come in. It had become difficult to breathe, so he shed everything that been given to him: tearing off his mask, hairnet, gloves and then fumbling somewhat clumsily to remove his gown, ripping it in the process. Everything was carelessly discarded in the first bin that he passed by as he fled back into the small sanctuary that had more or less become his home these past few days.

There he allowed himself to crumple into a ball in the corner. It was a position that he'd grown rather accustomed to over the years. He would push himself as far as he possibly could into the shadows of a room and pray somehow that they might swallow him up and allow him to escape for a little while. As a child, it had always been his mother who would be the one to come and rescue him, then Reggie… For the briefest of moments, he actually considered running back to his brother, pleading for some of that confident reassurance that he would usually so easily provide. Paul even got to his feet at one point before collapsing once more, deciding it would be cruel to force his brother in his current state to shoulder his younger sibling's inability to cope. No, he would soldier this out, just like he always had done.

Brandon wasn't even dead yet. The old explorer was full of surprises as Paul knew full well and he always had a surprise up his sleeve. The man would pull through. No matter how many people cautioned him that it might not be the case or suggested the contrary, he doubled down on that certainty.

His mind was empty as he sat there but he remained awake. All the while, it was as if there was some sort of force or presence weighing down heavily upon him. It was suffocating. He could scarcely breathe. He sat there, hoping, praying that it would end soon but knowing that it wouldn't. There was so much about this situation which reminded him of losing his mother. Strangely now though, he couldn't recall how he'd coped back then. All he knew was that he hadn't been alone back then, not as he was right now.

Maylene came looking for him. Judging by how she initially wore a cautious smile, Paul could only assume that she was oblivious to the situation with Brandon.

"What do you want?" He snapped.

"Reggie was wondering where you'd gone." The Gym Leader explained, not matching or cowering away from his aggression.

"I was with Brandon..." Paul muttered.

"Oh! How's he doing? Reggie keeps on asking after him."

"He's dying! Okay?! They think he's going to die!"

Had it been capable of it, even the pink of Maylene's hair would likely have drained and turned white. Her expression was as transparent as it ever was and Paul could easily guess just what was going through her mind: first shock, then sorrow, maybe some of it for the man who was suffering but mostly for his eldest son. She must have known how much of a blow it would be for him. Much like the Pyramid King's youngest son, she must have come to the same conclusions about as quickly… Cautiously, she shut the door behind her without looking away from him, ensuring that nobody else could possibly hear.

"I'm so sorry..." The young woman spoke in only a whisper.

"It's not like he was ever around anyway..." Paul muttered through clenched teeth.

Maylene didn't answer. Instead, she allowed herself to slump down with her back to the wall behind her. It struck Paul just how exhausted she suddenly looked. She'd only been here a few days but almost the entirety of that had been spent watching over Reggie. His younger brother had spent, in the scheme of things very little time with him. It felt awkward for him to be there. Despite their relation, the young pokemon trainer felt plain old lost when he was with his family member. He didn't know what to say or even if he should have been saying anything at all. He wasn't sure if he was meant to be delicate or if that would be condescending and he should have been going about as usual – which would be by most people's standards by behaving like a jerk. He just wanted his older sibling to be better, to be back to how he once had been. As such, leaving things to the gym leader had seemed like the easiest option, although perhaps not for her.

Still, it made for an easy escape route when he found himself presented with a difficult decision:

"You want to tell Reggie?"

"I-I don't know." Maylene managed after some reflection. "I don't think it's right not to tell him. Brandon is his- is your father."

"He won't like it." Paul knew it was an understatement but couldn't think of any other way of putting things.

"No… But if Brandon does..." She shook her head, unable to get the rest out. "I think he'd want to know before."

Paul couldn't help but wonder if this had been what it had been like for his father when he'd held his dying wife. He'd been presented with the choice of telling his sons the truth or, just for a few seconds, allowing them to have some hope. For so many years, his youngest had thought him a coward for having chosen what must have been for him the easier way out. Perhaps the man had seen it as a kindness or maybe he'd just allowed himself to believe that same old lie. Whatever the case, now his son found himself to be in the same position. As unsure as he might have been, he remained determined not to make the same mistake that his parent once had.

Taking a deep breath to give himself some courage, he got to his feet. He didn't pay Maylene any attention, although he heard her rise behind him, no doubt able to guess just where he was heading.

Reggie had found enough strength to smile. It was a sight which Paul had never thought it would be possible for him to miss. Over the years, he had both grown to take it for granted and to even, at times, find it irritating. Now, he wasn't entirely sure what he felt. At least, he reasoned, his brother would see how troubled he was as he was used to seeing a frown. The younger of the two didn't sit. He stood by the bed, placing both of his hands on it so as to serve as some sort of support. Still, his brother seemed blissfully oblivious.

"Hey there..." Reggie spoke, his voice frailer than usual.

"Hi..."

"You okay? I haven't seen you round a lot."

"I've been thinking..."

Paul's eyes travelled briefly towards his brother's injured leg. Reggie still couldn't stand by himself, much less walk. About the only thing that he was capable of was some very gentle conversation followed generally by a nap. Indeed, he spent much of his time asleep. Over the past few days though, he'd managed to stay awake for just that little bit longer and he was slowly but surely becoming more coherent and capable of following a conversation for just a bit longer. Baby steps, or so the doctors said. He was lucky to still have a leg, so they shouldn't expect him to be on his feet too soon…

At least he was back to smiling and now, Paul knew he was about to shatter that. So he found himself hesitating, uncertain. Reggie's eyes drifted over towards Maylene as she entered. He seemed blissfully unaware of the terrible news that they brought with them:

"Nice to see you two in a room together without bickering. Makes me think anything can happen..."

Neither of them answered. Paul found his attention drifting over towards the pink-haired gym leader. He almost hoped that she might be braver than him, that she might be able to take the plunge that he couldn't. He was afraid. This would break his sibling, he was certain of it now. He didn't want to be the one to be responsible for that. Neither did she. Perhaps there was another, third party out there who might be able to make the sacrifice. In the space of a few seconds, that wonderful smile of Reggie's vanished.

"What's happened?" He asked quietly.

"It's Brandon..." Paul took a deep breath and decided to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. "The doctors think he's going to die."

Tact wasn't a skill that Paul had ever really had to perfect. It seemed pointless to him. In fact, for a sizeable portion of his life, he hadn't even bothered to worry about what effect his words might have on another, much less what he could do to ensure that he didn't cause offence or hurt another's feelings.

He saw the shock and the pain on his brother's face. Disbelief, mixed with confusion. Perhaps he was wondering just why it was that the man he'd only been told had been "injured" was now at death's door. Reggie could only stare back at them. Stare back with so much obvious pain that Paul found himself wishing that he could rewind time and go back so as to silence himself before he could hurt his brother with the truth. The Pokemon breeder took a few deep breaths, almost gasping before shaking his head, pulling himself back into reality:

"I-I thought you said he was recovering…"

"We didn't want you worrying." Maylene told him. "We all honestly thought he was going to get better… He might still."

"Dad won't die. He can't! He wouldn't leave us… He promised-"

Tears formed behind Reggie's eyes. He closed them, looking away in a desperate attempt to conceal the drops as they flowed down his cheeks. His brother loved their father. Still, in Paul's mind it seemed to him that the man didn't deserve it. Yet he had it… If the younger of the two brothers found his heart to be aching, it was for his sibling first and foremost. He hated seeing him cry. Although he did everything that he could to conceal it from those who were in the room with him. There could be no denying that he was indeed shedding tears.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments, neither of those present in the room quite knew how to react. Finally, it was Maylene who tentatively took a few steps forwards. She reached out a placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. Reggie tensed up suddenly. Even though the gym leader couldn't have put a lot of force into the action, it seemed almost like a slap in the face to him. Bringing him back into reality. He turned over, rolling so as to look back towards his brother. His eyes were red, his cheeks wet. It was a sight which he'd only allowed his younger sibling to see on a handful of occasions and as such, left Paul somewhat speechless. His brother took a couple of deep breaths, trying to steady himself:

"W-Whatever happens- I'll be there. Okay? Y-You won't be alone."

He hadn't asked for that. His brother had always worried about him, tried to look after him, no matter how much he'd pushed him away. Most would have given up a long time ago. Not Reggie… Even now, despite everything, he remained the big brother who had always protected and looked after him for so many years. How much it had cost him? He was lucky to even still be alive...

Very tentatively, the trainer moved forwards. He reached out and took his big brother's hand. Reggie's teary eyes widened. He looked towards his younger sibling as if he had never seen him before. All he could think to do was nod, letting him know that everything would be alright. Come what may, for perhaps the first time in a while, Paul was certain of one thing: whatever happened, they would still have one another.

No more words were exchanged. All they could do was wait.

It took three days for the doctors to very tentatively decide that Brandon would live.

It was longer before the Pyramid King finally opened his eyes. Confused, dimly aware and with more medicine than blood being pumped through his system, the man only just had enough strength to turn his head. It was dark. It must have been night, he assumed. His mind refused to function properly, to let him know where he was. He couldn't even begin to guess and so, began to look for some clues. There was a mask on his face but he could breathe.

The only thing he could think of was pain. How terrible the pain had been.

Paul? Where was Paul?

To his surprise, he didn't have to look all that far before his eyes fell upon the familiar form of his youngest son. The boy was sitting in a chair, head resting against his eldest brother. Both were safe. Sleeping. The man felt himself breathe just a little bit more easily. He groaned, as the feeling came back to him gradually and with it, slightly numbed but still present was the pain. Someone shifted nearby. He saw them getting up, moving over to call for someone. Their words didn't quite reach him.

The man wanted to call out to them but promptly reconsidered his options. He didn't have the strength to do anything other than lie there.

The figure from earlier drew in a little closer. He felt their fingers slip into his own, squeezing them gently. Suddenly, it clicked just whom he was with. Instantly, the man felt himself relax. Cynthia offered him a soft smile:

"Welcome back old friend..."