Chapter 17: Dust and Shadow

Trudly. Folly. Cail and his companion, then one other lurking behind them. Dust and shadows, broken vending machines and old shipping crates scattered across the room, and…only one exit, on the opposite wall and behind the five trainers.

Wes took all of it in as he scanned their surroundings, blood roaring in his ears. If his memory served him correctly, this was the old abandoned warehouse at the edge of town. Nobody frequented this place save for the odd street kid looking for shelter.

In other words, they were perfectly isolated.

He faced down Trudly with a snarl—Gods, these guys really didn't know when to quit—and tightened his grip on his knife. "Cail, what is this!"

As if channeling his trainer's anger, Novo arched his back and snarled. Kohna and Maku responded in kind, tensing up further and piercing the eerily quiet room with growls of their own. Cail, however, simply turned his head away and didn't answer.

Trudly sneered. "You mean you haven't figured it out by now? I thought it was pretty obvious."

"We had a deal." Cail spoke quietly, shifting his gaze to Trudly. "Now give her back."

Folly tossed him a toothy grin. "So hasty, are we?"

"Just give it to him, Folly," Trudly said. He was focused on Rui, looking her up and down with a smirk and a nasty gleam in his eyes. "You don't look so good, sweetheart. First time Teleporting?"

Wes felt Rui's trembling fingers tighten around his arm. He raised his knife. "You've got ten seconds to let us go before I turn my team loose."

Trudly merely raised an eyebrow. Folly barked out a laugh. "What a cocky little bastard you are!" he said. "You think your little pets can take five of us at once?"

"Four," Cail said, his voice sharpening. "I've done my part. Now give her back."

Folly shot him a withering look, but still dug into his vest pocket and pulled out a Pokéball before tossing it haphazardly to the green-haired trainer. "There's your reward. Happy now?"

Cail caught the ball and observed it with narrowed eyes. Pointing it at his feet, he clicked the button and released its inhabitant. A Furret emerged from the light and immediately hunkered down into a defensive stance, scanning the room with wary, haunted eyes.

Cail's face darkened. "That," he growled, "is not Melba."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, are you telling me you wanted that scrappy little Machop back?" Trudly finally took his eyes off Rui to snap at him. "We did you a favor, kid. This Pokémon right here is an upgrade."

"Wes." Rui's voice was nothing more than a shaky whisper.

He spared her a glance and saw her eyes on the Furret, her face pale. He looked back at the Pokémon and watched as it swung its head around, caught sight of Kohna, and immediately bared its fangs at the Quilava with a hiss. Kohna arched her back in response, flames sputtering.

Another one? Wes swore under his breath. As if they didn't have enough to worry about at the moment—

"I never asked for an upgrade!" Cail was shouting now. He stepped towards Folly, hands curled into fists. "Where's my Pokémon!"

"Woah, easy, man." His companion, Calda, hastily pulled him back by the arm, face taut with alarm. "You can't mess with—"

"We had a deal!" Cail pushed against his friend's restraint, ignoring him completely. "We do what you ask and you give us back our—"

He was cut off by a beam of light; the trainer that had been quietly watching from the shadows stepped out from the wall with a newly summoned Mightyena at his heels. He regarded Cail with an icy stare.

"Let's not forget who's in charge here, shall we?" he said calmly. The Mightyena mirrored his threat, staring down Cail and Calda with a low rumble in its throat, slowly raising its hackles.

Calda paled and said something to Cail in a panicked murmur. Face twisted with fury, Cail relaxed his shoulders and took a step back. He looked as though he was about to say something when—

"FRRRRREEEEEE!"

Holy hell. Wes didn't know a cutesy Pokémon like Furret was capable of making such a horrific sound. It was somewhere between a screech and a snarl, and just as everyone turned their heads to the sound, Furret lunged straight for Kohna with another ear-splitting shriek.

Dammit! "Kohna–!"

But Kohna didn't need a command; she was more than ready. Rather than cower and flee like Wes had expected her to, she smoothly avoided a swipe of Furret's claws before ramming it in the side. Furret then locked onto Kohna's scruff with its teeth, and the two became a whirling ball of chaos and cries, kicking up dust and knocking a nearby stack of crates over in the process.

Wes wasn't about to let the opportunity slip by. In one motion he flicked out Nani and Neo's pokeballs and shouted, "NOVO!"

Pebbles and dirt sprayed out from under Novo's back paws as he launched himself at the Mightyena, smoky dark energy pouring from his maw. Mightyena whirled on him with a bark.

"OY!" Trudly bellowed. "I DON'T THINK SO!"

More flashes of light; Wes saw the familiar Duskull and Spinarak emerge, quickly followed by Folly's two Whismur. With a curse, the Mightyena trainer summoned an Ariados and barked a command.

"To hell with it!" Cail roared. A Snubbull and Kirlia appeared at his side with a flick of his wrist. "Let's give it to 'em!"

Calda was not on board. He backed away from the impending melee and reached up to the Abra on his shoulder. With a pop, he vanished into thin air.

Pandemonium erupted. Rui shouted and pulled Wes back as several Pokemon hurled themselves at him. Instinct kicked in and he ducked, yanking Rui down with him, knife at the ready. A Whismur barrelled straight for his head, shrieking bloody murder–

Neo yowled and sprang in front, summoning a wall of white just in time. The Spinarak and both Whismur bounced off the Protect shield with several resounding thunks.

Wes bit out several more choice words. This was not an ideal battle situation; too many enemies, too much movement, too much to keep track of–

Duskull phased through the shield with a cackle and blasted Neo with a Shadow Ball, sending him rolling across the room and into a pile of broken crates. The shield disintegrated and a slightly dazed Whismur picked itself up, then staggered forward with a growl—

"Maku, get—!"

There was no need; Nani darted forward and snapped her jaws around the Whismur's body, then with a mighty swing of her head, sent it flying across the room. Without missing a beat, she immediately turned to the Duskull, who was taunting Maku and dancing through his punches untouched, and blasted it back with a jet of water. She then bellowed up at the ceiling, snapping her jaws with maniacal glee.

Right. Wes certainly didn't need to worry about her. For once, he was grateful for the Croconaw's crazy bloodlust.

"WhiiiiiiEEEEEEE!" The last remaining Whismur planted its feet and screamed, drowning out every other sound. Wes covered his ears and saw Rui do the same. Gods, what an obnoxious Pokémon—

Nani cringed and lashed her tail in annoyance. She whirled on the pink Pokémon with a growl, but before she could do anything, Maku rushed in and slammed it with his fist, sending it rolling several feet, where it lay still and did not get back up.

Nani curled her lip at Maku and lashed her tail again, evidently furious that he had taken out her foe. She opened her mouth wide, bubbles frothing, as she prepared an attack, and Maku tensed and crouched with a growl—

"Enough!" Wes barked. Both of them looked at him. "Nani, if I see you attack any teammates, I swear to gods—"

"Wes!" Rui cried and wrenched him back by his sleeve. No sooner had he staggered back a few feet than a purple needle whizzed past where he had just been standing.

Poison Sting. Shit.

Even from a Spinarak, it would be very bad news if he or Rui got hit with that. He didn't need to worry for long, though—a jet of flame seared across the little spider's back, eliciting a high pitched squeal. Kohna, now freed from the Furret, came barreling in with a snarl, flames licking at her jaws. Some distance behind her, he saw Novo and Cail's Kirlia facing off against the Furret and Mightyena.

Out. Out. They needed to get out. But how to find the exit in this place, how to leave without recalling his Pokemon? He couldn't afford to, not with so many—

A piercing wail drew his attention to the wall several feet behind them; Neo was tightly bound in a String Shot and struggling to get free. Ariados, loomed overhead, perched atop a broken vending machine, tauntingly clacking its mandibles before firing off a Poison Sting directly at the Espeon's face.

Wes was already halfway there before he even realized it. He felt his mouth move, heard his own distant shout, but the blood roaring in his ears drowned out whatever command he'd given to Maku and Nani. A blast of water knocked the Ariados off its perch and it struck the ground with a thump. Scuttling frantically, it barely managed to right itself in time to dodge Maku's flying fist. They would keep it busy, and for now, that was good enough.

Rui was already and Neo's side, tearing at the webbing. "This stuff is stronger than it looks, I think we need a—"

"Move." Wes stooped down and flicked out his knife. "Neo, stop moving for a second."

Neo, panting and in distress, looked up at Wes with wide eyes. Wes saw the poisoned stinger from Ariados's attack buried deeply in one ear.

"It's okay, bud." Wes forced his voice to remain steady despite the chaos storming around them. "Just let me—"

WHAM.

Rui's shout, Neo's wail, a ferocious snarl—all the sounds blurred together as something massive rammed into Wes's side and knocked him off his feet. The ground slammed into his back, driving the breath from his lungs as a crushing weight bore down on his chest.

Thick black fur, putrid hot breath, a flash of white fangs—Wes only just managed to shield his face with his snagging arm before Mightyena's jaws clamped around it. Teeth scraped against metal with a horrible, grating scree-eech.

Mightyena thrashed with another enraged snarl, its claws digging into Wes' shoulders and spattering his face with flecks of drool. Wes clenched his teeth and shoved his arm further into the creature's maw, jamming its mouth open with the bulky metal. Mightyena let out a garbled bellow that was somewhere between a whine and a howl and writhed in fury, finally managing to slash through Wes' shirt with its claws to gouge into his side.

Hissing through clenched teeth, Wes struggled under the canine in a vain attempt to throw it off while fumbling blindly for his knife—only to realize it had been knocked from his hand during impact. Mightyena's weight threatened to crush his ribs, the thick fur smothering him, he couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't see—

THUD.

The Mightyena's snarls suddenly cut off in a shrill, shrieking yelp that pierced Wes' eardrums, and the next thing he knew, the weight on his chest vanished. Instinct drove him to push himself upright, and yet his head was spinning, his lungs couldn't pull in enough air…

"Ma! Ma-ku!" Through Wes' blurred vision, he saw Maku hovering beside him, reaching out to shake him with his little fists.

Wes blinked. The eerie emptiness in the Makuhita's face was gone, replaced with an expression of…was that worry? Fear? And—he blinked again. Were his fists glowing?

"Ma!" Maku whined again.

"I—I'm fine, I'm okay." Wes sat upright. "Did-did you just use a move? A real one?"

Maku's face changed from worried to proud as he beamed in response. "Ku!"

Well. That was unexpected, but he wasn't about to question it. He caught a glimpse of Novo tussling with the Furret across the room, and Kohna was now keeping the Mightyena busy with Nani at her side…except…something was wrong.

Nani's entire body went rigid as she quivered from head to tail. A low, guttering growl emanated from her throat and she slowly turned her head to Kohna, a savage gleam in her eyes—

"Oh, hell—" Wes scrambled to his feet and fumbled for her ball, but he was too slow. In half a second, Nani snapped from frozen to frenzied and lunged at Kohna, who was now interlocked with Mightyena in a flurry of snarls and snapping jaws. Nani was nothing more than a blue blur as she rammed Mightyena with her head, then spun and blasted Kohna point-blank with a Water Gun, the force of it knocking the Quilava off her paws.

Kohna landed heavily on her side and lay stunned as Nani swooped in with jaws parted wide. Spitting a stream of steady curses under his breath, Wes managed to recall the crazed Croconaw just before her fangs locked shut around Kohna's head, then promptly slid the lock shut.

Gods-dammit. As if the current situation wasn't bad enough without unstable Pokémon…

Kohna was looking worse for wear after such a hit. She stirred feebly, struggling to rise back to her feet, but it was clear she was no longer in fighting shape. Wes recalled her, too, then frantically palmed the other Pokéballs at his belt as he searched for the exit. If he could just get there, and recall the rest of his team along the way—

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

Trudly's screech rang over the din, and suddenly the chaos came to a lull as Wes, along with everyone else, turned to where Trudly stood between two vending machines at the far wall. In one arm, he held Rui, tightly ensnaring her around the shoulders and pinning her to his chest. With the other, he raised a knife—Wes's knife, he realized with a sickening jolt—to her throat.

"I'm about to make myself REAL damn clear!" Trudly bellowed again. "If you don't want to see this pretty little thing bleed out in the dirt, you'll do exactly as I say!"

Wes was frozen to the slot, staring at Rui, who was struggling in vain to break free. Trudly growled and made a harsh, jerking movement that made her gasp in pain. He turned back to them with his face twisted in fury.

"Return all your Pokémon. Now."

"Like hell I will!" Cail shouted from somewhere several steps behind Wes. "I'm not doing a damn thing until—"

"Cail." Wes struggled to keep his voice steady, not daring to remove his gaze from Rui even as his hand slowly trailed to his belt. "Just do it."

"No! Not until these pricks tell me what they did with—"

Rui thrashed again, snarling something at Trudly, and the man shifted his knife-hand to shove her head back before pressing the blade to her skin.

"I SAID DO IT!" Wes snapped his head around to give Cail a seething, withering glare, his hands balled into fists.

Folly cackled from Wes's other side. "Oooh, this is good!"

Cail stared hard at Wes, his jaw clenched. Then, with a bitter snort, recalled his two Pokémon. Wes followed suit, ignoring Neo's squawks of dismay, and Maku's nervous fidgeting, but paused to make brief eye contact with Novo. The Umbreon was battered and bruised from the brawl, but his eyes were still bright with a hunger for more. Good. Wes gave him a tiny, barely perceptible nod, and returned him with a click.

He turned back to face Trudly. "We did what you asked. Now let her go."

Trudly barked out a laugh, and Folly and the Mightyena trainer joined in. "Do you think I'm stupid, you little street rat?"

Yeah, actually, I do. But the glint of the knife convinced Wes to hold his tongue. Stall. They needed to stall, and then he could figure out a distraction of some sort, and…and then…

"What do you want?" he snapped. It was a fair enough question, and one that he hoped would buy him some time to think.

It was Folly who answered, somewhere in Wes's blind spot to his right, several paces back. But as he spoke, some shuffling footsteps indicated he was strolling closer.

"Wellll, it's not so much about what we want," he said in a gloating drawl. "But our boss sure wants you outta the way. And after gettin' acquainted with you back in Phenac, I can't say I blame him." He entered Wes's field of vision, still a pace or two away, and leaned in with a sneer. "You're a damn pebble in our shoe, you know that?"

A quiet laugh sounded somewhere to Wes's left, slightly behind him—not far from where Cail was still standing, from the sounds of it. "Can't believe one guy gave y'all so much trouble."

Folly shot him a glare. "Shut your trap. You saw the mon this prick has on him. He got himself not just one, but three Shadow Pokémon. Hell, maybe more." He turned his gaze back to Wes, curling his lip. "But you're gonna tell us exactly where you're hiding them, aren't you?"

Wes's mind was hung up on one part of Folly's statement. "Shadow Pokémon?"

Folly's eyebrows shot upward, and the other trainer laughed. Trudly snickered and growled, "Hah, figures. You don't even know what they are, you just knew a good deal when you saw it." He glanced at Rui with a dark glint in his eye. "Or should I say when you saw it, eh, girlie?"

Rui met his gaze unflinchingly, her eyes burning with fury. "I don't know what you're talking about," she spat through clenched teeth.

"Oh, sure you do! That's why we had to nab you in the first place, isn't it? Running your mouth off in the Battle Square downtown about that Makuhita, asking questions you shouldn't even know to ask. A shame nobody ever taught you when to keep your mouth shut."

So, the strange Pokémon had a name. Wes hastily shoved that information aside for later. Right now, he had to focus on ensuring that there would even be a "later." He mentally took stock of where everyone's position was; there was no sign of either Folly's Pokémon, the Ariados, or the Spinarak, but he caught a glimpse of Trudly's battered Duskull hovering over the man's shoulder, and the sound of heavy panting alerted him to the Mightyena that must be at its trainer's feet. All of them, save for Cail, were a good five feet away from him at least.

They're keeping their distance, he realized. But why? Perhaps they were wary of him making a sudden move to call out a Pokémon, or that he had another weapon stashed somewhere on him…but that didn't make much sense. Wes scarcely dared to breathe, let alone move, with that knife at Rui's throat. In fact, it was odd nobody had come up to restrain him at all. What was the point of the knife, then, unless—?

Unless it's a bluff.

Several things clicked in his mind all at once. Trudly had mentioned their boss…Phenac…that absurd guy with the atrocious hair. And hadn't he said something before leaving the Mayor's office that day? Something about taking Rui alive?

"Speaking of which," Trudly growled, "I believe that Makuhita you have there belongs to me. Hand it over with the rest of your Pokémon, and maybe I'll think about letting Girlie here off the hook."

Wes locked eyes with Rui, surprised to find she was steadily looking at him. Her gaze was brimming with fear, but there was something else, there, too, a glint of understanding…had she realized the same thing he did?

"Oy, you think Boss will let us keep one?" Folly asked with a wicked grin. "I mean, that Espeon packs a punch."

Wes slowly, carefully reached for his belt, not breaking eye contact with Rui. With a tiny jerk of his head, he glanced at the broken vending machine behind her. A spark of recognition lit her face, and she responded with a blink.

"Like hell he'd let you take one as good as that," Trudly huffed. "You can barely handle your little pink pom-poms."

"Hah? Like your mon are any better?!"

Wes mouthed the word to Rui: now.

Rui slammed her head back into Trudly's chin and stomped on his foot. The man lurched with a yell, and she broke free of his grip. She reached through the broken glass, seized a stray bottle, then swung it around to bash it against Trudly's head with a resounding crack.

"NOVO!" Wes shouted to the Umbreon before he even materialized from the Pokéball. Novo sprang from the light immediately into a defensive crouch, then whirled and lunged for the Mightyena that was already hot on Wes's heels.

Rui stood over Trudly's slumped form with the now-shattered bottle in her hand, her face white. Wes sprinted over and grabbed her by the arm. "Come on, let's go!"

She stared at Trudly and didn't budge. "D-d-do you think he's okay?"

Gods, why do you care? "Doesn't matter. Let's go!"

Rui met his eyes and gave a shaky nod, but before either of them could take another step, an eerie shriek split the air and made them flinch.

"Skuulllll!" Trudly's Duskull dove from above, ghostly energy swirling around it as its red eye glared with righteous fury. Wes swore vehemently and went to duck—

A pair of hands clamped around his shoulders and hauled him backwards, breaking Rui from his grip. "I don't think so!" hissed the Mightyena trainer.

Wes caught sight of Rui narrowly avoiding the Duskull's attack while attempting to ward it off with her new weapon. The ghost merely cackled maliciously and phased through her swing.

Wes snarled over his shoulder at his captor. He'd had enough of this.

He allowed himself to fall slack for just a moment, catching the other trainer off guard and throwing him off balance. The man muttered in surprise. "The hell?"

Wes seized his opportunity and shot upright, jerking his head back to slam into his captor's face. He felt a sickening crunch from what had to be the bastard's nose, and the roar of pain that followed confirmed it. He wrenched himself free and seized Neo's Pokéball.

Rui was somehow managing to hold her own against the little ghost; she seemed to be trying to placate it by talking to it while brandishing the broken bottle as if it were a deadly sword. In any other situation, Wes might have found it amusing, but instead, he summoned Neo and barked an order. "Take care of that Duskull!"

It wasn't an ideal matchup, especially with Neo's poisoning, but he had little other choice. Nani and Kohna were out of commission, Novo was busy, and Maku wouldn't be able to be of much help against a ghost. But all they needed to do was incapacitate the Duskull, and then—

"You little shit!"

A fist slammed into Wes's side, knocking the breath from his lungs. Dammit! He'd thought he would have more time, but the trainer had regained his composure quickly. Wes staggered and whirled to face his opponent—only to be hit again from behind.

"Not so cocky now, are you?" Folly snarled in his ear. Wes slammed an elbow into his ribs, drawing out a grunt, and the man shoved him harshly forward.

Use your momentum against your enemies. Alden's voice resounded in Wes's mind, clear and steady despite the surrounding chaos. If they throw you off, lean into it. Use it.

Wes stumbled, then gathered his feet under him just in time to duck under the Mightyena trainer's swinging fist. He'd swung wide, his face a bloody mess—clearly the pain was affecting him. Wes shot upward and clocked him in the jaw, sending him reeling, then turned to block another punch from Folly. He kicked the man in the shin, then seized him by the collar and hurled him to the dusty floor, where he lay wheezing.

Wes whipped around again, ready to face whoever or whatever came at him—until a warning yowl from Neo made him turn his head. The Espeon was bounding toward him, eyes wide, but Wes couldn't see anything—

Suddenly his legs were swept out from under him. Wes yelled and flailed before hitting the ground hard, and Duskull materialized out of thin air above him, shrieking with glee. A Shadow Ball from Neo immediately collided with the ghost and subsequently launched it out of Wes's sight, and Neo sprang after it with an angry yowl.

Up. Up. Get up! Wes rolled onto his side and pushed himself up to his elbows, scrambling to get back into his feet, but he was too slow. He lifted his head just in time to see a boot swinging straight at him—

CRACK.

Blinding, white-hot pain burst through his skull and smattered his vision with stars. The world spun as he was sent rolling from the impact, his ears ringing so loudly he could hear nothing but his own thoughts.

No. No! Get up! Come on!

But his body didn't seem to want to obey him. His vision swam, his head spun, and he struggled just to get to his hands and knees. He blinked, staring down at where his hands were pressed into the ground, and vaguely registered something red dripping onto the dirt between them.

Somebody was laughing. "Hit him again!" But the voices sounded far away, as if he was deep underwater. He tried to raise his head, but the ringing pain only intensified. In the corner of his eye, he saw it again: a raised boot coming straight for his head…

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

Suddenly someone was standing over him. Wes heard a man yell, followed by a solid, resounding THUD. He blinked, then slowly forced his head up.

Rui hovered over him, feet planted in a defensive stance, arms extended as though she had just shoved someone with all her might. A few feet away lay the Mightyena trainer in a heap, groaning and groggily stirring.

Rui glanced down at Wes over her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

She looked distraught and worried, but what really caught his attention were her eyes. Wes blinked again, trying to clear his fuzzy vision. Was he seeing things, or were her eyes glowing…?

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

A new voice bellowed across the warehouse—but not just any voice. Even with his thoughts disjointed and foggy, Wes knew that gravelly roar.

Duking.

He let out a shaky breath of relief and slumped to the floor. Rui dropped to his side with a cry.

"No, no, no—Wes! Wes, can you hear me? You need to stay awake, stay with me, okay?" She rested her hands on his shoulders and started to roll him onto his side.

Wes batted her away and managed to groan a reply. "M'fine."

"Hands up where I can see them!" That was Sherles now. How in the world they'd managed to find them here was beyond Wes, but at the moment he was too relieved to care.

He felt Rui fumbling with something at his waist and managed to raise his head with a growl. "Hey—"

"Hey, there you are." She managed a feeble grin. "Here. Neo and Novo are back in their balls. They're all accounted for." She finished clipping them back into his belt, and only then did Wes realize he was on his back. When did that happen…?

"Hands up!"

Rui jumped and looked up at something Wes couldn't see from where he lay. He attempted to move his head, but Rui stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"I said, hands up!"

"J-Johnson, it's me. It's us—"

"Put your hands in the air now!"

Johnson…? Wes hadn't recognized his voice. He'd never heard him sound so forceful, so serious. Was this really the same dopey-faced officer? The one that looked like a stupidly grinning Growlithe? That guy?

Rui paled and held up her hands, and Johnson finally entered Wes's sight as he swooped in and pulled her arms behind her back.

"Sorry, Miss Rui," he said hastily under his breath. "I don't mean any offense, but we have to arrest you both just for appearances. Frego will take you back to Duking's."

Rui swallowed and nodded. Johnson met Wes's eyes and gave him a tiny grin. "You look awful."

Wes weakly draped an arm across his face. "Thanks, Johnson."

"You're welcome."

To Johnson's credit, he didn't cuff Wes due to his injuries, and instead helped ease him to his feet and guided them both to his Arcanine's side. He glanced around, then hurriedly murmured, "Call Fateen once you're there. She'll be able to patch you both up. Duking will be there shortly, too." He spared a glance at the man in question, who was busy towering over a cowering Folly and demanding answers.

Wes could only nod tiredly and lean into Frego's side. All he wanted now was treatment for his Pokémon and some sleep.

Johnson patted Frego's head, murmuring a command, and with a pop, the warehouse disappeared from view.

"H-how many fingers am I holding up?"

Wes cracked open an eyelid to see Rui holding up several fingers with trembling hands. He sighed. "Six."

A flicker of relief eased some of the worry from Rui's taut expression. She gave a curt nod and shifted in her chair. "G-good, um...next question, what's your middle name?"

An abrupt sting at the side of his head made him wince; Fateen, who sat beside him on Duking's living room couch, dabbed at the gash on the side of his head with some antiseptic as she stitched it shut. Her old fingers were surprisingly delicate as she worked her magic.

Wes blinked open both of his eyes to fix Rui with an annoyed stare. "I don't have a middle name, Rui."

She gave him a weary grin. "Good, it was a trick question."

"Look, I know you think you're helping, but these questions are ridiculous."

"They are not!" Rui exclaimed. Even after being safe inside Duking's home for nearly an hour, she was still pale and trembling all over. "You probably have a concussion, Wes, and we need to make sure you're not going to get worse!"

He sighed again and held back another wince as Fateen gave a solid tug. "Fine. Next question."

"Okay, um...what's two plus two?"

"...Are you serious?"

"Just answer the question!"

He looked her dead in the eyes. "Seven."

Rui's face drained of what little color it had. "That's—that's not—"

"Rui, I'm joking." Wes snorted and rolled his eyes—a big mistake. A bolt of stabbing pain immediately shot through his head, forcing him to close his eyes with a grimace. A groan escaped him through gritted teeth.

Fateen pulled away slightly; Wes managed to open his eyes a little to see her patting Rui's hand. "Now, dearie, I know you mean well, but I'm going to have to ask you to sit back and stay quiet. You're upsetting my patient."

"She's not upsetting m—"

"Stop talking!" Fateen barked at him.

"Shroo." Fateen's Shroomish companion grumbled from where she sat at Wes's other side. He nearly jumped; the Pokémon had been so quiet and still, he kept forgetting she was even there.

A shadow fell over the room as Duking's massive frame filled the doorway from the kitchen. He looked almost as tense as Rui did. "What's the verdict, Tee?"

"Definitely a concussion, though it doesn't seem severe," she said briskly. "In the meantime, I don't suppose you and Silva could patch up this girl's hands? She's got quite a few nasty cuts."

She nodded to Rui as she spoke, and Wes glanced back at the redhead just in time to see her hastily attempt to hide her hands in her lap. "Oh, don't worry about me, I'm fine!"

Duking frowned and reached out a hand. "Let me see."

Rui hesitated, then timidly held out her palms, where Wes could see several cuts laced across them, smothered under a layer of dried blood. Until now, he'd assumed the blood had been his; Rui had given no indication of any pain or discomfort.

Duking furrowed his brow. "'Fine', my ass, kid," he said with a grunt. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. Silva, fetch us some bandages, will you?"

"Yeah, they're in the bathroom closet, right?" Silva's voice sounded from the kitchen.

"Yes, should be in the back somewhere…" He steered Rui towards the kitchen. Rui spared Wes a glance over her shoulder, and he responded with a halfhearted wave. She smiled a little, and allowed Duking to usher her through the doorway.

"That should do it for your head injury, for now," Fateen said as she drew back with a sigh. "Now, let me see to those gashes you've got on your side. From a Mightyena, were they?"

Wes tensed. "Don't worry about that, I can treat them myself."

"And why in Celebi's name would I let you do that?" she huffed. "I'm already here with all my supplies, and an old Murkrow like myself doesn't care for second trips, dearie."

"Really, it's fine, I know how to treat stuff like this. You don't have to go through the trouble." Wes scooted away from her. It was one thing to let her treat his head injury—he'd been so dizzy he wasn't in any shape to protest it to begin with—but he had to draw the line somewhere. He'd spent nearly his whole life treating his injuries himself, and he wasn't eager to stop now, least of all for an old woman he barely knew. "They're not that deep, anyway—"

"I'll be the judge of that."

Wes sat up and moved to push himself up off the couch. "I said it's fine—"

"Dearie." Fateen held his wrist in a vice-like grip with one hand and patted his arm with the other. Her glare held a steely glint that made Wes freeze where he sat. "If you keep fighting me at every turn, I assure you I will not hesitate to ask Miss Amanita here to knock you out with Sleep Powder so that I can get my work done."

Wes slowly turned his head to look at the Shroomish that sat quietly beside him on the couch, and—gods. He never thought he would find a perpetually scowling mushroom intimidating, but he supposed there was a first time for everything.

"Do we have an understanding?" Fateen asked sweetly.

Wes huffed and slouched back in defeat. "Fine."

Fateen grinned and patted his cheek. "That's a good lad."

"Shroo!"

He sat in tense silence while she worked on the gashes in his side, trying not to flinch at her touch. A head injury was one thing, but letting her lift his shirt to work at the injuries underneath felt…even more vulnerable, somehow. At the very least, she mercifully didn't comment on his array of scars.

Thankfully, the injuries to his side weren't deep enough to warrant stitches, though he still had to suppress a wince when Fateen applied antiseptic to the wounds. After several minutes of quiet, she suddenly spoke again.

"Quite an independent one, aren't you, dear?"

Wes had no idea how to respond to that. His first thought was a biting retort—Whatever gave you that idea?—but he stopped himself. She was gracious enough to treat his injuries, after all; the least he could do was dial back the snark.

Not a threat, he told himself as he scanned her wizened features. At least…I don't think she is.

Fateen didn't seem to mind Wes's lack of a reply. She carried on. "Independence is an admirable quality. A necessity, even, in these parts." She paused in her work to gaze at him with her beady eyes. "But take care not to let that independent streak push away would-be friends and allies. You and that girl would be dead were it not for that young officer fellow keeping an eye out—Johnson, was it?"

Wes frowned. "What?"

He had been wondering how Sherles and company had found them so quickly…he shook his head with a bitter snort. "Right. Figures. Of course they've been tailing me. Even with dirt on me, they don't trust me to do my damn job."

"Perhaps," Fateen hummed, unruffled by Wes's hostility. "But have you considered that it's also to keep you safe?"

Wes rolled his eyes. "Sure, maybe that's it. Can't let their useful thief-for-hire get put out of commission."

Fateen hummed again as she applied a bandage. "I will not tell you what to believe, dearie. But I advise that you do not set your mind so rigidly on one conclusion. People are not as black-and-white as you may think." She looked him in the eyes again, and there was something penetrating in her stare that made Wes shiver. "And that includes you."

The hell is that supposed to mean? Wes wanted to ask, but before he had the chance, Duking's enormous silhouette filled the doorway to the kitchen once more, ushering Rui and Silva back into the room.

"Well, it's probably not as good as what Tee could manage, but we got you properly patched up," he said kindly to Rui. "Tee, you got any ointments for her?"

"Certainly." Fateen pulled away and wiped her hands clean on a damp cloth. She patted Wes's hand again. "There you are, dearie. Be sure to get plenty of rest. However… "

She started rummaging through her kit beside her and suddenly addressed Duking. "His head injury concerns me. You'll want to keep a close eye on him tonight, and don't let him sleep too deeply. Have someone wake him every few hours, and it's best that he sleeps out here with someone close by."

"Wh-?" Wes sat up straighter, glancing between her and Duking. "That's not—I'm fine, really, I'm a light sleeper anyways—"

"Thank you, Tee," Duking sighed. "We'll be sure to do that." He accepted the ointment from Fateen's outstretched hand, helped her gather her things (and her Shroomish companion), then ushered her out the door.

Annoyance flared up in Wes's chest at being ignored. "Look, I really don't need special treatment, I'll be fine." Frankly, the thought of someone watching him sleep was mildly horrifying. He wouldn't sleep a wink like that, and he was tired, dammit—

"Fateen knows what she's about, kid." Duking gave him a stern stare, but his tone was lacking the usual bite it had when addressing him, and Wes noticed shadows under his eyes. "I don't take her advice lightly, and neither should you."

I told you not to call me "kid." Wes nearly said as much, but barely managed to hold his tongue when Rui's voice reminded him she was still in the room.

"If it's no trouble, I'd be happy to keep him company, Duking." She gave him a beaming smile that felt oddly out of place. "I mean…I don't think I'll be able to sleep much tonight, anyway!" She laughed that thin, forced laugh Wes had grown to recognize.

"You should try to rest though, don't you think?" Silva said delicately. "I mean, you've both had…quite the night."

"Exactly!" Rui flashed him a grin. "You two have had several long nights in a row at the Colosseum, but I'm wide awake after all that adrenaline. Really, I could use the distraction!"

Duking stroked his mustache with a weary sigh. "Well…only if you're certain, hon. I'm going to insist you both stay out here in the living room for the night, at least. Easier to hear you yell for me from here than from all the way in the back rooms."

"Mine, too," Silva said. "It's the second on the left. Careful not to knock on the first one, though, because that's Marci's room, and she'll never let you hear the end of it if you wake her up."

Wes made a mental note to avoid the first door on the left at all costs.

Silva then stretched with a yawn. "Well, Rui, if you're sure, then I'm off to bed. Johnson and Sherles will brief us in the morning on what they find out—sounds like they'll be up all night asking questions."

"Of course I'm sure," Rui said. She gave him a wave as he trudged up the stairs. "Sleep well!" Silva replied something incoherent through another yawn.

Duking remained behind for a moment, looking as though he had something to say. He fidgeted awkwardly, opening his mouth and closing it a few times, then finally nodded stiffly to Wes with a grunt. "Glad you're both safe. I'll be in my room if you need anything." And with that, he followed Silva upstairs.

Rui's mouth twitched into another smile. "I think he's warming up to you."

Wes threw her an exasperated look. "Did you hit your head, too?"

"Oh, come on, Lycas. Would he go through all this trouble for you if he hated you?"

He would if he could get use out of me, Wes thought sourly. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd been used for someone else's agenda. Hadn't he been Gonzap's most prized possession, as long as he did as he was told and kept his mouth shut and functioned like a perfect, well-oiled machine?

Fateen's words prickled at the back of his mind. People aren't as black-and-white as you may think. But Wes knew contempt when he saw it, and it was ever-present in that man's eyes, especially whenever Wes was within ten feet of either of his children. On one hand, Wes had to admit he couldn't completely blame him. And on the other—well. The feeling was mutual. Duking couldn't possibly begin to know what Wes's life had been like, having a roof over his head and food to eat and fancy secret caves with waterfalls inside his own damn house. While Duking had had the esteemed privilege to eat at a dining table surrounded by friends and family, Wes had been lucky if he managed to scrape up enough food to go around between him, Neo, and Novo.

Not that it mattered, anyway. Soon they would get to the bottom of this gods-forsaken investigation, and soon Wes would be free of everything that shackled him here. Just as Duking had no interest in Wes's way of life, Wes had no interest in his.

Is that completely true? The thought pushed its way into his head, annoyingly taking the form of Fateen's voice, and he irritably swept it away with all her other nonsense.

A dull throb in his skull pulled him back to the present. He glanced at Rui, who was situating her own pillows and blankets on the large armchair across from him, and frowned.

"You're going to sleep in that chair?"

Rui shrugged, fluffing and re-fluffing the pillows. "Why not?"

He watched her as she arranged the pillows, then rearranged them, stepped back, huffed, and rearranged them again. "That won't be comfortable."

"Oh, I'm fine!" Rui said brightly. Then she grabbed one of the pillows and discarded it, and set about restructuring her setup for the fourth time.

"Suit yourself, then." With a resigned huff, Wes stood up and made for the basket in the corner that held a supply of blankets and pillows— apparently provided by Duking for Marci and Megg, as they made forts in the living room so often he finally decided to simply keep a supply of "construction materials"on hand in said large basket.

"What are you doing?" Rui said, suddenly noticing he was up and moving. "Go lie down, I can get those for you!"

"For gods' sakes, I'm just grabbing a blanket, not lifting weights." Wes snatched the first one off the pile. "Stop fussing over me, I'm fine."

He went back to the couch and cleared his belongings off of it, including his coat and belt (all his Pokémon sleeping soundly in their Pokéballs), before he noticed Rui had not responded with a quip of her own. He glanced over his shoulder.

She was staring at the ground with a haunted look in her eyes as she fiddled with her bandages, lips pressed tight, her face still as pale as it was an hour ago. Wes slowly turned to face her.

"Rui?" He said slowly. "You all right?"

She looked up at him, and with a jolt, Wes noticed tears brimming in her eyes. Before he knew how to respond, she suddenly crossed the gap between them and threw her arms around him.

He froze. "I, uh. Rui?"

She didn't reply right away, instead pressing further into him. Wes could feel her whole body quivering against his, felt her breaths coming out in hitching sobs.

"S-s-sorry," she gasped, "it's just that—gods, I—those men—I was so scared they would get me again, and that y-y-you and your P-Pokémon would get hurt, and—and—you did get hurt, and it's my fault, it's m-my—"

She broke off in another sob.

Wes scrambled for something to say, but his mind came up blank. Instead, he slowly wrapped his arms around her and returned her embrace. For a moment, they simply stood there, neither one making a sound save for Rui's quiet sniffling.

"Your fault, my ass." Wes finally found the words to speak. "Unless you're telling me you set all that up yourself personally? Come on."

Rui managed a weak, broken laugh at that. "Y-you know what I mean. They were after m-me."

"And me, too, if you remember," he said. "So I'm just as much to blame as you are." He paused, then added more softly, "If anything, I should be thanking you for what you did back there. You saved my life. Or at least saved me from another kick in the head."

He suddenly remembered the way she looked after shoving his attacker away—specifically, he remembered her eyes, and that unnatural glow about them. Wes briefly wondered if he ought to tell her about that, but…no, she didn't need anything else on her mind. Besides, it had most likely been some kind of concussed hallucination of his. Surely.

Rui wiped her eyes and pulled away from him, her face red. "S-sorry," she said again, and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Gods, I'm a mess—I'm sorry you had to s-see me like this—"

"It's fine, Rui," he said quietly. "Really." And for once, Wes realized that he meant it.

She looked back up at him with that bright, trademark smile of hers, as if nothing had happened. "Thank you for that. I'm alright, just needed to let it out a bit."

Wes scanned her face. While her smile did look less strained than it did before, he couldn't help but wonder at the practiced ease in which she plastered it back on so quickly. Something in him wondered just how much experience she had doing just that.

"Yeah," he said after a short pause. "It's no problem. You sure you're alright?"

"Of course I am! Don't worry about me." She turned away and headed for her chair. "You should get some sleep. I'll wake you in a couple hours."

He watched her shift the pillows around one last time before settling into the chair, then followed suit by settling onto the couch. Despite all his various aches and pains, it felt as though his body had picked up on the fact that he was about to rest and was now practically begging the couch cushions to swallow him up. He settled onto his pillow with a soft sigh.

"…Goodnight, Rui." He found himself wanting to say more, though he wasn't sure what. His brain immediately fogged with exhaustion and he gave up trying to come up with anything else.

She gave him one last smile before he dropped off to sleep. "Goodnight, Wes."