So! Guys and gals. This is Chapter 3. Thank you so much for the reviews and support. Those of you that did review. ) I 3 you all lots. By the by, looking for a Beta Reader so if you're interested, let me know. Also, I have given consideration to a traveling companion for Abe. Still doing a bit of tweaking with writing style and trying to see where the story wants to go before I make anything definite. SO. Please let me know what you think of this chapter and that'll answer some of the questions I've got going on in my head.

Battles. Yes. Those are coming. Just not yet. But within the next chapter or so, there will be a battle. I'm not so good with the combat, as some of you may know, but I will do my best to make it as enjoyable as possible. As well as a bit different than the usual: "Character shouts. Pokémon Moves. Other character shouts. Other Pokemon moves." I'm trying to flesh out actual characters, including the Pokémon, so my battles will probably have heavy emotional components from the view points of the Pokemon as well as the trainers. I get kind of into minds as I write, which I'm sure you're starting to see, so things could get to be a bit . . . more mental and less physical.

But that's later. Enjoy the chapter. It's a bit longer than the other two. I was surprised.

Disclaimer: Don't own Pokémon. Mild language. -coughs-

Abe had never noticed how unsteady his kitchen table was until now. There he sat at the dilapidated old thing, peeling potatoes in order to make him a better human being or so his mother told him. Just how was he supposed to become a better person when the scope his focus was simply how the playful wobble he'd always been able to ignore was now, suddenly, a menace to his concentration, he didn't quite know. His mind was not off pondering the ramifications of his sometimes selfish behavior, but instead trying desperately to find a way to avoid slicing his thumb off while trying to peel potatoes at the table. Quite the task it was considering how violently the table swayed and danced when he set his elbows on it leverage and the creaking! That annoying, nerve-splitting creaking that filled the air each time the table made a move set Abe's teeth on edge and diminished his dwindling patience (which, unlike the pile of potatoes, was rapidly running out). Forget becoming a better person, Abe just wanted this job done with so that he could escape from the suffocating humidity of the kitchen find some place with cool, fresh air. Thinking about it only annoyed him more so he gruffly dedicated himself to the task at hand.

Clumsily, he ran the knife over the coarse skins of the potatoes, liberating the white flesh beneath to the sticky air of the kitchen. There was a tin basin sitting beside his chair filled with lumpy brown potatoes and water. The water, his mom had said, was to make the skins easier to remove, but Abe found the soggy mess to be revolting to the touch and not quite so pretty to look at either. The knife bit into the skin of the potato and he circled it around, pulling it away from the potato in a wet, soppy spiral that drooped and bounced with each twist of the knife. Around and around, he pulled the shining metal blade, holding the bottom of the spud with the tips of his fingers, squeezing it tight and holding it steady; his tongue was pressed between his lips and his eyes held level so that he could inspect his work. This was not his first time peeling a potato, oh no, but it was the first time he'd done without a suitable brace for his elbows and since he could no longer trust the table to support him, he had to do it aloft. Which meant near the face and twice the danger. He'd always been clumsy and had lamented at his general lack of coordination, but this was the first time it actually promised to draw blood! One slip of the knife and off went his nose! Or a thumb. Or finger. Or hand.

A whole host of ghastly images played before his mind's eye, each more gruesome and disconcerting than the last, and Abe calmly set the knife and potato he was peeling aside so that he could take a deep and hopefully steadying breath. The back of the chair squeaked when he pressed into it and sprawled his legs out beneath the shaky table. This time, the sharp sound didn't make him wince, but it did manage to draw a small groan from his chest. It was a rumble of a sound, a tight, clenching vibration that spoke of his mounting frustration. This had become his life for the past three days. Up at dawn so that he could get worked over by some menial, degrading chore, and for what? Poliwag; he wanted to spit derisively, but managed to hold it in. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder to see if he was alone and when he didn't see the shadows of his mother and grandmother being thrown against the back porch from the garden, he sighed in relief and rose out of his chair. On the table, he left the knife, a half-peeled potato, and a white bowl filled with twenty or so white, lumpy potatoes. Each one boasted several spots where the skin had been too insistent to be peeled away, and more than likely, he'd have to scrape them off later, but for now, he was taking a break.

The kitchen was as small as ever and bore his presence with an uneasy sense of being overfilled. How they ever ate in the small, cramped room without feeling the effects of such suffocating closeness, he didn't know, in truth, he didn't care. He was in that kind of mood. One where he didn't care. Just didn't. Anger and frustration did that to a boy and when he could feel the heat of summer in his blood, urging him to go dance under the tall pines and soak up the cool shadows of the woods, there was little inside that he could find a scrap of a care for. He felt like a prisoner in the room and not even the big window (which hadn't been open) or the amount of light pouring in and illuminating the white porcelain of the sink could make up for it. Abe's dusty hands slid against the white with a stuttering squeak of a sound, his eyes staring into the white oblivion in the sink for a moment before raising to intently watch his reflection in the metal tap. The heat inside today was oppressive and hung inside of the tiny space like a thick, wool blanket. Why he had opted to do the potatoes inside was a mystery to him now, but a tingling in the back of his mind told him that he hadn't wanted to be reminded of what it was he was missing out on. Doing it on the back porch would have left him with an amazing view of the yard beyond and the tall trees that he wasn't' currently relaxing beneath.

Exactly like the ones he could see beyond the window pane. The most beautiful things in the world, Abe had found, lay beyond window panes. Forever and always out of your grasp, your touch. They eluded your fingertips and kissed your touch with teasing kisses that were fleeting, transient imitations of what you truly desired. How sharp his eyes became as they stared out at things he could not enjoy because of something stupid he'd done. He could make out the luscious greenery of the needles that sprung from the pines and the waxy glare cast off by the oak leaves. Though the window was closed, his nose picked up the scent of the forest; it was the scent of moist, dark soil and the flowers that bloomed among all of the trees. The scent of sap dripping from the trees and wetting the tongues of the Ursaring and Ledbya. He brought his hand up and stared at it. Nothing was out of place. Five fingers, covered in dust and grit from the potatoes. But his mind implanted a rich, brown honey upon them. Made them feel sticky from tree sap and just like that, he was gone. In his mind. Down to the forest to play among the trees.

His daydream, however, was interrupted by the banging of the front door and Abe turned and made his way back over to the table with the bad leg and the horrible singing voice; damned creaking. Theresa entered the room just as he was seating himself and smiled. Poliwag was no longer in her arms as Abe had seen it earlier that morning, but hid behind her legs. She just stood there with her arms folded lightly over her chest, peering down at her son with a bright grin. Wordlessly, she approached the table and tilted her head over the bowl as Abe worked in silent anger, after shooting Poliwag a dark glare, with jerking, furious motions. The potato he'd taken so much care with before received no such blessing now and was soon ripped apart by the knife, cleaved by Abe's foul mood, and Theresa noticed. Quickly. She placed an understanding hand on his shoulder, stilling his motions. She could feel the anger in him, but she did not withdraw. The tension running through his shoulder jolted into her body and drew a pang of sorrow from deep within. Soon, she placed her other hand upon his other shoulder and dropped a soft kiss atop his head.

"That's plenty, sweetie. Why don't you take Poliwag outside and play while I start dinner?"

Abe's jaw had gotten tighter and he had no intention of going anywhere with Poliwag unless it involved trading it in for something a little less troublesome. He almost said so too, but after glancing up at his mother's worried face, he decided not to and simply shrugged her hands off, rising as he did so. There was no point in hanging around in the kitchen when he didn't really want to, even if it meant that Poliwag would be following him around. But pretending to get along with it... maybe it would get his mom off of his back a little bit. Besides, Poliwag couldn't get him in trouble if he kept an eye on it. He gave Poliwag another hard-edged stare before motioning with his head toward the backdoor. Theresa moved aside to let the precious little thing waddle after her Abe and she took the white bowl in both hands and moved toward the sink. The backdoor banged closed and she watched them through the window. Abe's steps were broad, fast-paced, leaving little Poliwag to struggle to keep up. Her heart went out to the poor creature; she knew how it felt to chase after someone who didn't want you, but you depended on just the same. Learning to care for Poliwag would be good for Abe. And with that thought, she turned on the tap and let it run over the potatoes, washing away the remnants of dirt that Abe's hands had left behind, all the while knowing that some things weren't so easily washed away.

--

"... Cut it out!" Abe stood there with his feet firmly planted on the ground, his hands balled into fists and pushed up on to his hips, and his face pulled into a tight frown. Poliwag had followed him all the way down to the stream. While he had expected to be followed a little of the way, he hadn't expected Poliwag to actually follow him the entire way here! This was his place. A place he hadn't shared with anyone was now being invaded by the biggest regret of his life. The water slipped past at quiet, even pace, a stark contrast to the fidgety twitching taking place in the corner of Abe's mouth. The moment he'd realized that Poliwag was in his special place, he'd taken in several gulps of air in hopes of keeping his temper, but they'd failed miserably and he'd attempted to be nice, which hadn't gone so well either. Now, he was just barely holding on to the residual traces of control he had in hopes of not punting the blue little pest into the water and letting the current carry it away.

Poliwag's body gave a shudder and it shrank away from Abe, bumping into some of the shrubs that lined the stream's banks. They were standing beneath some of the tallest and oldest trees in the forest and the shadows played against the light, casting smatterings of shade and wrinkled light all around. Abe's body was covered in rippling light from the water while his legs were thrown into shadow, Poliwag was swaddled in bits and pieces of light and shade, but none of it could protect it from Abe's eyes that were piercing and flashing angrily. Mild understanding could be seen in its young face, but confused hurt dominated Poliwag's body language. Fear gripped tightly at its insides and its body again shuddered against the bristly greenery. Abe's foot advanced forward and his mouth worked furiously, trying to form the words that would be the most cutting and would be understood the best. There was this overwhelming urge to hurt Poliwag for intruding in his heart, but when he went to deliver the stinging diatribe, he was interrupted.

"Whoa there, buddy." The voice was brusque and came from somewhere behind Poliwag. Abe's eyes narrowed as he watched a boy with dark, curly hair emerge from the underbrush as if he'd been a part of it all along. He seemed to just appear from it, his body slipping easily and fluidly into existence next to Poliwag, seemingly in its defense. He was tall, taller than Abe anyway, and looked stronger too. There was a robust fullness to his chest, arms, and legs and a tan that Abe would never be able to gain, not that he wanted one. "That's no way to talk to your Pokémon." It was the voice of a rustic and came weighted with a warning in its undertones. Abe didn't think it wise to cross the guy, but his annoyance and frustration had been building and it was not about to let him back down that easily.

"Don't tell me how to take care of imy/I Pokémon," Abe ground out, making another move to snatch Poliwag up, but the boy with the broad shoulders and stone gray eyes moved to intercept and stood there with his arms folded over his chest. There was a condescending look on his face; Abe knew it well, he used it often enough. He knew then and there that this boy was not someone he would -ever- like.

"If that's your idea of taking care of a Pokémon, I'd hate to see what you call neglect!" His voice rose and lost the false friendliness it had been filled with earlier, Abe retreated a step. This boy's body language was relaxed, almost casual, and Abe felt intimidated, tense. Was he really that tense? Hadn't noticed. A scowl curved the delicate lines of Abe's face and pushed his chest out, arms shooting initiatively into his pockets.

"What do you know?" Abe muttered and kicked a loose stone to the side, eyes cast off to the side as if the twigs and pine straw were more interesting than they really were.

"That this poor little thing is scared to death." As if to illustrate his point, the guy stooped down and ran a reassuring hand down Poliwag's quivering body. Abe pinned it with a look that said: traitor. Evil things came to mind. All of which involved some kind of torture of the annoying brat of a Pokémon that he was being forced to have at his side. "Hey, my eyes are over here." The warning was back and the guy's face grew stern. His eyes were frighteningly lighter than the rest of him and they drew Abe's attention immediately. They were swirling, wispy clouds. Thunderclouds. That's what they reminded Abe of and he couldn't help but to drop his glare. "Better." The boy sneered, Abe snorted again.

"That Poliwag is mine."

"And you treated it like shit; so what?"

Abe didn't respond, instead biting his tongue and trying to think of something to say. He felt embarrassed, not because of what he'd done or said to make Poliwag afraid, but that he was being given a hard time by a complete and total stranger. Besides, what did this guy care, it wasn't like Poliwag's welfare was his concern! The words sprung to Abe's tongue, but not quickly enough as the stranger held up his hand and waved away Abe's feeble attempts at a comeback.

"Don't bother." Turning to Poliwag, he gave it another gentle pat and stood, giving Abe a disgusted look. "You've got a lot of growing up to do. But," he held up one finger and shoved it into Abe's chest, "that's no reason to take it out on Poliwag." Each word was punctuated with a sharp jab of the finger and before Abe could respond, he was pushed back over into the stream with an unceremonious plunk. With a look of superiority and supreme agitation etched on to his handsome features, he folded his arms across his chest and stared down at Abe. "Name's Dominic, asshole. Remember it." Crouching, he leaned into Abe's face and with a glinting anger in his eyes, he spoke again, "Because I'll be back if I ever see you doing that again, capiche?" A few light taps against his cheeks left Abe's face flushed with humiliation, but Dominic didn't seem to mind as he strolled casually away after petting Poliwag again.

Barely-restrained anger and pure hate lined his voice when Abe finally climbed out of the stream and grasped Poliwag between his hands, squeezing enough to let it know that he was in charge, "You are going to pay for this." And with that, he let Poliwag drop to the ground, pulled out a pokeball, and harshly ordered it to return. Only then did he take inventory of the damage that had been done. His shorts were sopping wet and his backside was covered in mud and grime. Yep. No doubt about it, he'd have to change. With another grunt of anger, he forced himself toward home, feet collecting dust as he went, thankful he'd chosen to wear sandals instead of socks and shoes.

--

Abe found the kitchen remarkably cooler after a shower. He'd donned a pair of plain, worn jeans and a simple white t-shirt, thin cotton and ideal for this weather. His bare feet caused the creaking, old floor boards to moan in muffled protest, but familiarity bred deafness in Abe's ears. He slipped into his chair and waited for his mom to set down his plate. He took the free moment to glance around the table. Four tables, four glasses... four? He blinked in confusion, wondering if they were having company and why his mom hadn't mentioned it. When she turned around to set the mashed potatoes on the table, he nodded toward the extra place setting. "Is grandma having a guest?" He hoped so. His grandmother dragged home the most interesting people. Like the one time, she'd brought home the man who did puppet shows in all of the villages for the children and he'd let Abe set up and help him with a show the next day. Grinning, he watched as his mom chuckled and nodded.

Well, tonight promised to be interesting, didn't it? The front door swung open and granny shouted that she'd arrived. Slow, clunking steps drew nearer to the kitchen and Abe rose out of his chair to properly greet their guest.

"Really, ma'am, I can't thank you enough for letting me stay."

Abe recognized the voice before he recognized the face. A frown hit him before he even had a chance to lower his hand as Dominic stepped into the kitchen with his grandma.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" Abe asked as an awkward hush fell upon the room.