Dixie was dreaming. He was dreaming that he was being carried upwards, upwards, over a precipice and into a memory. He was dreaming of thinking of a time that wasn't very long ago. He was dreaming of remembering a weekend he'd spent with the man he loved in a little cottage in the mountains. It was a happy memory. It was a happy dream.

Dixie smiled and hoped that he could stay there in that weekend forever. When he died, he thought, that would be his heaven.

Someone was setting him down, and covering him up against the dewy morning cold. He could hear them saying something to him, murmuring softly. Far away, beyond the world of sleep, someone was touching him softly on the nose and saying something, but the words were all garbled and, as he slipped into another dream, Dixie couldn't grasp any meaning in them at all.

At length, Dixie opened his eyes and found himself alone in long, lush green grass, wrapped up in Gaius' long, black jacket. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and looked around. "Gaius?" he said sleepily, but there was no sign of the older boy or his tauros. He was alone in the grass just west of Viridian city.

Yawning, Dixie stood and picked the coat up off the ground. "That was nice of him," he murmured, smiling faintly. He pulled it around his shoulders, noting how heavy and stiff it was. "Some of his things must be in the pockets still… I hope he didn't forget anything he needs…"

The young Rocket grunt stuck his hands into the pockets of Gaius' coat, feeling around. He found an ornate pocket watch with a cracked face in one, and a lighter which looked like it might've belonged to a woman, once, in another. There was an ultraball which had been cracked and which no longer stayed closed, and there was a locket with a broken clasp which housed a picture of a younger Arden and which Dixie wondered whether he could fix. And, in the inside breast pocket of the jacket, there was a crisp piece of paper, neatly folded into sixths. Dixie took it and turned it over in his hands before unfolding it. A short letter had been scrawled within in sharp, neat letters which swayed slightly to the right, like long grass in a gentle breeze. At the top of the letter, his name had been written in a myriad of ways and then crossed out, as if the writer couldn't decide just how 'Dixie' must be spelt. Dixie smiled, and read the letter to himself.

Dicksey,

Sorry to just leave you here, but we've both got things to do, I'm sure, and I figured that there aren't any strong wild pokemon around here and you'd probably be alright. I thought you might get cold, so I left you my coat, obviously, but next time I see you I want it back so try to keep it safe, please. I know you robbed Elm's laboratory, and that you did it for Felicia. I can't be mad at you for that. If you see Arden, and I'm sure you will, you watch out for him, okay? I won't forgive you if you ever let anything happen to my baby brother.

Love,

Gaius

PS. I left some stuff in my pockets. Sorry. Be careful with it, because I want it back in the same condition it's all in now. Except for the locket. You can keep the locket, because I've got another one now. Take care of it.

Dixie folded up the letter and put it back in the coat's pocket, still smiling. "He's a good guy," he said quietly. "It's… it's too bad what he's going to do to me when he finds out about Mahogany. It's too bad… that he and I couldn't be friends…"

He started toward the town, the coat still wrapped around his shoulders. As he entered Viridian, a group of Rockets standing outside of the gym caught his attention and he made his way for them, hailing one whose name he knew. The man looked up and, with a wave, began jogging toward him. "Hey, Dixie!" he said as he got closer. "Stanislaus was looking for you!"

"Stanislaus was here?"

The other Rocket shook his head. "No, no," he said. "He was calling around, looking for you. He said if we saw you to tell you to meet him up in Cerulean… Seemed sort of urgent about it."

"Cerulean," said Dixie softly, turning his face northwards. "Thank you for passing the message along. Eh—what are all you doing in Viridian, anyway?"

"The boss sent us out to prepare his gym," said the Rocket, motioning. "We're contacting the trainers who usually fight under him here, and cleaning up the whole thing… You know, grunt work."

"So the boss is returning to his gym, huh?" Dixie asked, looking over the other Rocket's shoulder, toward the gym. "I wonder why…?"

The other Rocket shrugged. "Guess that's the beauty of running your own crime syndicate—you don't have to tell anyone why you want to do something, you just tell them that you're doing it."

Nodding, Dixie thanked the Rocket for passing Stanislaus' message along to him, and headed off. The message was that Stanislaus was only waiting in Cerulean, but Dixie knew that wasn't quite it. Dixie knew he was waiting in that place. Dixie sighed and pushed back his bangs from his forehead, remembering that weekend he'd spent there with Stanislaus for the second time that day.

It was funny, he thought, that his mind first jumped to the best parts of that time—the long morning spent in Stanislaus' arms, catching fireflies, laughing until his mouth and chest were sore. For a moment, he'd almost forgotten about the fight they'd had then. He couldn't remember what started it, only that it escalated very quickly. Stanislaus punched him in the mouth and threw him hard into a wall. He'd gotten a few more punches in, broken two of Dixie's ribs, before Nathair and Orla had gotten in-between them. Furious, Stanislaus had kicked Orla, knocking one of her teeth loose.

He'd stormed off, knuckles bloody, half-dressed, no shoes on. What could Dixie do but to chase after him?

"Stanislaus! C-come back!" he'd said, rushing out the door after the older boy.

Stanislaus turned and looked at him and there was venom in his gaze which brought Dixie to a dead stop. Without a word, Stanislaus turned his face away and kept right on walking—knuckles bloody, half-dressed, no shoes on. Dixie shrunk back and let him go as Nathair nuzzled his trainer's hand sympathetically.

That was the last time they went to that cabin together.

The next time they saw each other, Stanislaus apologized and kissed Dixie tenderly and told him that he hadn't meant what he'd said or what he'd did. He told him he'd never do it again. He rubbed Dixie's cheek and told him he loved him and asked if Dixie really believed he'd ever want to hurt someone he loved so much. It had been easy to believe a week prior when the same thing had happened. And when it had happened before that, and before that, and before that…

But he looked so sincere. What could Dixie think but that he spoke in earnest and it'd be different that time?

Dixie's mind slipped from the memory as he rubbed his ribs, feeling the bumps beneath the skin where the bones had healed so recently. He frowned and pulled Gaius' coat tighter around himself, wrapping it around himself completely. The lapels brushed his nose, and they still smelt like the coat's owner.

"I wonder," he murmured. "If I had been in Johto instead, back then, maybe you would've been the one I met…"

His eyes teared up as he thought about how it would've been to find first love in someone who protects instead of harms. Still, he trudged on toward Cerulean. He wasn't sure what Stanislaus wanted, specifically, but he was certain it would be bad news for Arden. And if that were the case—certainly he couldn't refuse—then it would shortly follow that it would be bad news for him, once Gaius found out.

"I can't very well run away," he said. "Then I'll have Team Rocket to deal with. And it's not like someone like Gaius wouldn't follow me to the ends of the earth, anyway, for hurting his precious brother…" Dixie sighed.

Life was grim and black and humorless.