Chapter Fourteen
Fracture

Half-dead things tumbled through his sleep. He dreamed he was stuck in the midst of a storm where blood fell like rain. He held his hands out and drops stained and slipped through his outstretched fingers, and then they blew away in the blustery wind. And then, the sound of someone sobbing. Curiously, it did not die away when his mind roused itself back into consciousness.

He opened his eyes and was met with an empty camp. Annabelle's sleeping bag was empty and the last embers of the fire were smouldering in the pit. His mouth ran dry.

It took him a few minutes to locate Annabelle. She had her back to him at the edge of the clearing, sat down and bent over, completely unmoving. As he got closer, he spotted two of the three sandy brown eggs lying propped up on their sides, surrounded by sheets of paper, and under the careful eye of Abigail. The third egg, the smallest of the three, the one Paul had held to his chest last night, was nowhere to be seen.

Paul found it difficult to breathe. Like a pillow had been stuffed over his mouth and nose. The noise from before had stopped and he wondered if perhaps he had imagined it. But when he knelt down near to Annabelle, she stiffened and turned further away.

"What's… wrong?" he asked uncertainly.

Annabelle took in a deep, juddering breath. When she eventually spoke, her voice was coarse and croaky. "One… of… one of the eggs… didn't make it."

"Didn't what…?" He craned his neck to see the egg in Annabelle's hands, feeing his heart thud desperately against his ribcage. "You're sure?"

"Oh, Paul, I've been up since six this morning sitting with it! I haven't felt any movement. It went cold three hours ago and ever since then… nothing. F-for Arceus's sake, I know what I'm talking about. I've…. I've dealt with this so many times… I just… know."

Finally, she allowed her arms to droop and Paul saw the egg in her hands. It looked so pale and small, even Annabelle's delicate fingers dwarfed it. Her face was red, crusted with tears.

"Why…why didn't you wake me up?"

"What use would it have been?" Annabelle twitched her shoulders in the tiniest of shrugs. "There was nothing you could have done. There was nothing… I could have done." Her voice was wavering, in danger of breaking entirely.

"Still… you should have woken me. It's better than you sitting here upset."

"I'm… I'm not upset." Annabelle said thickly.

"Annabelle, I know I'm stupid when it comes to this shit, but I'm not that stupid." He patted her roughly on the shoulder.

Annabelle sniffed furiously. "It is… it is sad, I know. But I'm trying not to be. A-after what happened to the mother and the other eggs, I was p-pretty sure something like this could have happened. A-and there's two other eggs to take care of. I-it's just life. And l-life goes on."

"Sure it does. But that doesn't mean you can't be sad about it."

Annabelle's shoulders began trembling fiercely and she pulled the egg closer to her chest. "I'm… I'm so sorry…" she whispered to the eggshell. "I'm… I'm just so sorry…!"

As Annabelle sobbed, Paul draped his arms awkwardly around her in his best impression of a hug. She flinched at the touch but after a few moments, Paul felt her entire body relax against him. Fresh tears came spilling out from her already swollen eyes and the sobs wracking her body became more violent.

He had no idea how long he held her, allowing her to release what was likely hours of pent-up grief. He had never been good at this. Tears – women's in particular – were alien to him. What were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to do? His meagre attempts at comfort often made it worse. But now, he sort of understood. There wasn't anything he could do or say and there was no use pretending that he could. Annabelle didn't need that. She didn't need words or actions. She just needed to let it out.

It felt like hours before she eventually stilled. When her weeping eased and her breathing regulated, she stepped back from him. He allowed her a few moments before gently reminding her of the two other eggs still in need of her care.

With her help, Paul dug a small hole in a patch of soft earth in the shade of a large tree. As he laid the cold egg inside and scattered the earth back on top, Annabelle once again turned her back. He wanted to mark the grave somehow – it was customary, wasn't it? Some kind of memorial; a stone, even an upright twig? He hunted around but found nothing. He supposed it was just as well – he didn't want anyone noticing a landmark and digging up the hole.

When Paul was done, he found Annabelle sitting in her sleeping bag with her knees under her chin, the two remaining eggs tucked against her chest and fresh tears leaking down her red cheeks. Paul felt a strange surge of pity. How many times had she seen this?

"Come on," he extended both hands for one of the eggs. "We should get going. There's no sense in hanging around here much longer, eh?"

"Yeah. You're right." Annabelle's voice was heavy, holding none of her usual cheer and enthusiasm. He wondered why he was looking for it – after something like this, why would anyone have any reason to smile?

Annabelle reached out and while Paul expected the cool, hard shell of the Pokemon egg to reach his fingertips, he felt a soft, warm hand entwine itself with his. The touch did not last long, she used him as a pivot to haul herself, and the two eggs, to her feet. Yet, the ghost of her lingered, even as they packed the campsite up, delegated an egg to each of them, and set out on the route towards Goldenrod City.

.-.-.

Traversing the last of Route 36 took the better part of three days. In excessive heat during the day and bitter cold at night, they trudged onwards through the constant sights of trees, grass, bushes, more grass and more trees. Eventually, Annabelle, overtired and desperate for a shower and a clean bed, made the executive decision to reroute them to the National Park – knowing there was a Pokemon Centre built into the popular establishment.

Paul dive-bombed his small bed as soon as Annabelle unlocked the door to their shared room. Kicking off his shoes, he wriggled his aching feet and let out a breath of relief, while Annabelle walked past him, pointedly holding her nose.

"Your feet stink, you know that?"

"You're not exactly pleasant to get downwind of either," Paul retorted without skipping a beat.

"Uh-huh." Annabelle carefully set the two sandy brown eggs down on her bed and gingerly sat herself beside them. "Finally…" she let out a breath. "Now that I'm not worrying about, y'know, getting eaten in our sleep or something, I can finally take some proper notes on these little guys. Actual proper measurements. Oh, I wonder if one of the nurses has some scales or a tape measure I can borrow…"

She was attempting to crudely measure the eggs now – using the length of her hand as a rough indicator. Even Paul could see the eggs looked different now – the one he had been carrying seemed to have doubled in weight over the past few days of carrying it. His aching arms were testament to that.

"So, why are you taking notes again?"

"Eh, it's just a thing breeders do. We monitor the movements, how the eggs get heavier and bigger as time goes on. It helps avoid… nasties. Like… you know…"

"I know. You don't have to say." Paul softened, feeling a pang of sadness strike within him, like the echo of a bell. "So… you still don't have any idea what's in those eggs, huh?"

"Not…really." Annabelle said carefully. "I have my suspicions, but I'm not gonna say anything."

"What? Why not?"

"Well, what if I'm wrong?" Annabelle flustered. "This isn't my area of expertise – identifying Pokemon by egg alone is one of those things only really good breeders can do. And it's even harder with an egg that's so… bland."

"I guess." Paul rolled onto his back and stretched out. "Hey, wouldn't it be great if they turned out to be… I don't know, like an Eevee or something? Imagine what we could do with two Eevee!" he was already off in a daydream, showing off an expertly trained Umbreon and Sylveon to an envious Dest.

"Paul, your gamer boy is showing." Annabelle remarked primly, flipping to a new page in her notebook. "You might be glad if it was Eevee. I certainly wouldn't."

"…what? Why?"

"Do you have any idea the lengths people go to get Eevee? They're some of the most expensive Pokemon to breed. They're some of the hardest to get from a reputable breeder. And," she added gravely. "They're inbred. A lot."

"Inbred?"

"Yep. Think about it. You get a lot more male Eevee than female—"

"On a ratio of 87.5% compared to 12.5."

Annabelle blinked. "…yes? Uh… well anyway, a lot of people breed their female Eevee with any male Eevee they can get. And if that male Eevee happens to be its brother, its cousin, its nephew… well, it goes on, let me put it that way."

"Ew."

"Not just "ew", Paul." Annabelle sighed. "It causes a lot of problems. Physical impediments. Some have severe developmental delays. A lot just end up not being able to fight or enter contests. I mean, of course, proper breeders run family history checks when they do Eevee breeding, but a lot of the black market breeders don't."

"Wait, wait, wait. There's a black market on Eevee breeding?"

"Wake up, Paul. There's a black market on breeding. Period."

"Wow. That's… that's messed up."

"And it makes it even harder for breeders to do their jobs properly." Annabelle let out another exasperated sigh. "Arceus, even talking about it makes me angry. Why would people hurt Pokemon like that? Even it's just potentially harming them, why would you take that risk? For what? A Pokemon that's considered aesthetically 'better'? I just don't understand it."

"Mm." Paul muttered.

"Anyway." Annabelle closed her notebook with a snap. "Now that I've gotten some of these measurements down, I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Good idea. I think I'll go as well."

"No way, mister." Annabelle jabbed her finger at Paul. "You've gotta stay here and watch the eggs."

Paul glanced at the eggs sitting upright on Annabelle's bed. "Uh. I don't think they're going anywhere."

"No, you idiot! I didn't mean it like that! Someone needs to sit and watch them in case they hatch or something."

"I know, I know." Paul chuckled. "Don't worry, they'll be safe with me."

Annabelle looked at him reproachfully.

"Well, go on." Paul flapped his hands at her. "If you're going, go. Get it over with."

"Alright then." Annabelle tossed two Pokeballs forward, releasing Abigail and Dusty. "I'll leave these two with you. Abigail, you go sit on the eggs and keep them warm."

"Fletch!" Abigail cheeped and obediently settled herself down atop the two eggs. At this point, the eggs had grown so much that Abigail could barely cover them.

"And Dusty…" Annabelle rounded on her dopey looking Shroomish, who perked up and looked expectantly at his trainer. "Uh… just behave, okay?"

"…Shroom…" Dusty replied sadly.

"Do I have to behave too?" Paul asked, but was ignored as Annabelle grabbed her towels and disappeared out of the door with a slam.

Alone, Paul could think of nothing better to do at first than stare around the room. Dusty had taken to ramming his head against the frame of the door, as if he was trying to go straight through it, the moment it had shut behind Annabelle.

"There's something seriously wrong with that Pokemon." Paul muttered, fishing in the crusty pocket of his jeans for Ledyba's Pokeball. With a nonchalant toss, he released the Pokemon from its capsule.

"Ba! Ledy! Ledy!" Ledyba cried, waving his tiny arms up and down.

"I can't believe I'm looking to a Ledyba for decent company." Paul said to himself, whistling for the Ledyba to come up and sit beside him. The Pokemon dove onto his stomach, winding him in the process. There was a surprising amount of power behind the Pokemon's strike. The Ledyba did seem to be getting bigger and more powerful along with it – perhaps it was about time to start training the little bug again.

He plugged his phone into the outlet by the bed. It had lost charge days ago and he lay back, waiting for it to turn on. He shut his eyes and let out a long breath, savouring the feeling of warmth, softness and peace and quiet.

Bzz bzz bzz

Ugh. Text message.

Twisting his body and phone around to compensate for the abnormally short charging cable, he opened the message.

It was from Dest. No surprises there.

"Dude. You alive?"

Feeling slightly guilty, and with nothing else productive to do until Annabelle returned from the shower, he tapped out a reply.

"Course, man. How you been?"

No sooner had he set the phone down, it buzzed again.

"Pretty rad, bro. Where are you?"

Typical Dest. He was always one to get right to the point.

"National Park. On the way to Goldenrod."

Another prompt reply.

"Sweet as, bro. You caught anything good?"

Paul hesitated a few moments, deliberating whether he should just ignore the text or feign some sort of signal outage that prevented him from replying. However, knowing the reality he couldn't avoid this line of questioning forever, he tapped out a reply.

"Few things here and there, man. Not telling though."

He held his breath until the next message pinged through.

"Aww man, typical. Master of secrecy and all. You suck."

Paul relaxed again. He'd irritated Dest, that much was for sure, but at least he wasn't insistent. That could only be a good thing. Paul was in the middle of tapping out another reply when another pinged onto the screen.

"You remember our appointment. Lake of Rage?"

"Course, man. I gotta go up to Cianwood first. But I'll be there."

"Cianwood? Dude, there's nothing up there. Why you going?"

"No real reason. Some chick I'm travelling with needs to get there."

"A chick?! Man, you lucky bastard! Is she hot? Tell me she's hot!"

Paul felt his face redden.

"Dude, why you asking me that?"

"Gotcha! That means she is! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

He was in the middle of typing out another message, something along the tongue-in-cheek line of "doesn't exactly limit me" when a sharp tap made him look up.

He was used to the strange cacophony of noises that came with travelling with three Pokemon and one eccentric breeder. Abigail often chirruped and cheeped to herself and had been known to screech at three in the morning for no apparent reason. Dusty's fondness for headbutting things came with the consequence of knocking things over. Those things were often loud. Ledyba was a clicker – Paul assumed it was part of the territory of being a bug. And Annabelle… God help him if he started on Annabelle. She was a heavy breather, for one, a habit which only intensified tenfold when she was asleep. She also enjoyed singing – sometimes snippets of songs under her breath and some right at the top of her lungs, even sometimes just nonsense words and gibbering to the vaguest of tunes. He supposed he could have learned to live with it – were Annabelle actually good at singing.

Noises were not unusual to him anymore. He felt like he was constantly plagued by bangs, clatters and clicks and as such, become so used to them that he barely registered them. But rather than any of the range of loud, obtrusive, downright irritating noises he had grown accustomed to, this new one was soft, almost hesitant.

Tap!

He sat upright, looking around the bedroom. Dusty was still bodily ramming himself against the doorframe. Abigail was asleep. Ledyba was curled up in a corner of his bed, playing with his own antennae. Everything else was silent – no matter how hard he strained his ears, he couldn't hear the noise again.

He lay back down and picked his phone up.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A text buzzed into his phone.

"Dude, are you still there?"

Then he saw it. A tiny, hairline fracture sweeping across the centre of one of the sandy brown eggs.

"Sorry, man. I gotta text you later."

Author's Note

Hi guys! Me again. So a lot happens here. A sad beginning and an exciting ending.

Chapter still turned out slightly shorter than I would have liked. I didn't want to linger too long on the poor unlucky egg as I didn't want to overdo the sadness and stuff. If anything is likely to be edited in this story, it'll likely be this chapter, but yeah. For the most part, I'm happy enough with it.

Paul does seem to take sad things well, I know what you're thinking. There will be something of a payoff to all this as the story develops, so please stay tuned for that.

I'm gonna be focusing on getting the next chapter on my collab fic out next (if you haven't read it yet, please do take a look at Collision of Words on my profile, I'd really appreciate it) so I'll be with you guys hopefully in a week or so.

Thanks for reading and reviewing, as always!