"What's happening? Why are you screaming?" Candela asked in a frantic tone as she raced across the lab.
Blanche struggled to find words. "I was… and he ran out… there was a meowth! I tried to stop him!"
Candela pushed past Blanche, vulpix still in her jacket. She scanned the horizon for a moment before finding Spark's body. A choked cry escaped her lips, causing the vulpix to whine. "Spark! Is he-?"
"I don't know," Blanche stammered. This couldn't be happening. This was a nightmare.
Candela pulled the vulpix from her jacket and thrust her into Blanche's arms. She sprinted out into the rain, which was still heavy, but vertical now and not as all-consuming. Blanche couldn't speak to stop her, so they simply stood, clutching the little pokémon close to their chest.
Candela called out her machoke as she ran toward Spark. She slid to a stop in the mud beside him, falling to her knees. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him, making Blanche wince. He didn't respond. Candela leaned over him, her ear close to his mouth. She gave a thumbs up to Blanche, but they weren't reassured.
She then pulled a fat, alarmed-looking meowth from his arms and ran back toward Blanche. Her machoke lifted Spark as easily as a doll and jogged behind her, his worried expression reflecting Candela's. Blanche stepped aside as the pokémon and trainer approached. They went straight for the basement, and Blanche followed suit as though in a trance.
Willow greeted them at the base of the stairs, dark eyebrows pressed together in concern. "Candela? What happened up there? Is everything…" He stared at the machoke's cargo and silently moved aside to give him room.
"Over here, Brutus," Candela instructed, calling her pokémon by his nickname.
Brutus followed Candela's guidance and gently placed Spark on the floor. He stepped back so Candela could inspect her friend. Blanche took several wary steps closer, still holding the vulpix.
"Spark, can you hear me?" Candela asked as she crouched at his side. The meowth wriggled from her arms and scuttled to the professor's feet.
Blanche rarely saw Spark when he wasn't moving. Sure, he'd pass out in an odd place now and then, but he looked brimming with energy even in his sleep. Now, he looked small and frail, like a waterworn shell that could be crushed between one's fingers. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and his brow was lined with pain.
Candela slapped Spark's face with just enough force to make a popping noise.
"Candela," Willow chastised.
Spark groaned and his eyes opened, just barely. "Where…?"
Candela laughed with relief. "You're safe in the lab, you idiot."
Spark rocked his head. "No, the meowth… I saw…" He craned his head, trying to sit up, but cried out when he had lifted himself a couple inches.
"Don't move! The meowth is fine. Is that what you were doing out in the storm? What happened?" Candela asked.
Blanche couldn't look at Spark, so they looked at Brutus. He paced behind some of the boxes, clearly just as agitated as his human companions. Something was wrong. There was more red on his arms than could be accounted for by his markings. Apparently, the stress of the event was too much for him, and he withdrew into a pokéball on his own. Nausea swelled in Blanche's stomach.
"He's bleeding," Blanche said, once they found their voice.
Willow snapped out of his anxiety-induced paralysis and joined Candela next to Spark. "Where are you hurt?" he asked, returning to his usual composure and authority.
Spark grinned, but it was strained. "I'm not! I'm shaken up a little, that's all."
Spark drew a quick breath to steel his nerves and pushed himself up. This time, he made it to a seated position without a sound, though his face scrunched up tightly. He let out a heavy sigh once he was up, but then laughed.
Candela laughed too and plopped into a cross-legged position. "I thought you were dead, you asshole!"
"But…" Blanche began, but didn't know what to say. Maybe all the chaos had made them see things. He'd been hit so hard… could he really be able to bounce back like this?
Professor Willow's voice broke through Blanche's private reflection. "Spark, your back…"
Where Spark had been lying, a puddle of blood and rainwater spread. Spark twisted his head to see what everyone was looking at.
"Oh," he said, far too calmly for the situation.
Willow gestured to Candela to help remove Spark's soggy jacket. As they pulled at the sleeves, Spark grimaced.
Despite his obvious discomfort, Spark took the opportunity to make a joke. "Would you believe I've had this exact fantasy? But with less blood?"
"I'd punch you if you weren't bleeding out in a basement right now," Candela shot back. She was trying to keep things lighthearted in her blunt way, but Blanche observed a distinct tremor in Candela's dark, strong fingers. Blanche swallowed anxiously.
"How ya holding up, Blanche?" Spark asked. Willow carefully began to roll up the back of his shirt.
Blanche shook their head to clear their thoughts. "I'm fine."
Spark smiled, as sunshiny as ever, even though there were dark circles forming beneath his eyes. "Relax, Blanche. Everything's OK."
Willow's breath caught as he finished pulling up Spark's shirt. He hesitated a moment before pulling the shirt over Spark's head, as if Spark were an oversized toddler being changed. Candela leaned around to see what had given Willow pause and she visibly flinched. It took all of Blanche's will to move their feet and circle behind Spark to see the damage. The vulpix in their arms whimpered, and Blanche eased the tight hold they hadn't realized they'd been using on the poor pokémon.
A deep, crimson gash stretched from the middle of Spark's back up to the back of his right shoulder. Blood welled within the wound and rolled down his spine. The thing gaped widest in the center, and it didn't take a doctor to know the injury would require stitches at the very least.
"How…?" Willow breathed, fingers flexing and straightening, as if he wanted to close the wound himself.
Blanche forced themself to speak. "He was hit by a large piece of debris that the wind kicked up. I believe it was the lab's sign, but I didn't get a good look at it. It happened too fast."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Candela demanded of Spark. Despite the angry rasp in her voice, her eyes had turned watery.
"About what?" Spark's voice was higher than it should have been. His smile twitched, and his eyes darted. Blanche recognized the beginnings of panic. "Look, I knew I was hit, but I didn't know about whatever you're seeing back there. Care to fill me in?"
"How could you not know? Spark, this is really bad. Like, hospital bad," Candela said.
Thunder bellowed above them hard enough to quake the basement floor. The vulpix yipped and leaped from Blanche's arms. She landed gracefully on the floor and scampered toward the fat meowth, which hadn't moved since Professor Willow had walked away from her. The vulpix huddled against the larger pokémon, who hardly seemed to notice. The meowth blinked groggily and yawned.
For some reason, Blanche was angry with the mewoth. They knew the pokémon wasn't to blame for what happened, but they couldn't help but think that Spark would never have been out in the storm were it not for the actions of a skittish pet. But Spark could have used his brain for once in his life and refrained from running out into a developing tornado in the first place.
"Blanche, you're turning red," Willow said. "Are you all right?"
Blanche sniffed, frustrated with themself for letting their anger show like that. Now was the time for rationality. Spark needed their head, not their heart.
"We need to stop the bleeding. I'll get the first aid kit," they announced, heading for the stairs despite the increasing roar of the storm above ground.
"I think it's gonna take more than your plastic box of bandages and ointments to take care of this," Candela said.
"He needs a hospital," Willow agreed, hoisting himself to his feet.
"Still kinda waiting on an answer here, guys," Spark said, but his voice was weak, and neither Willow nor Candela seemed to notice.
Candela tapped irritably at her communicator. "Ugh, no signal! How are we supposed to call for help?"
Willow paced and drew his hand down his stubbled shin, thinking. "It still sounds terrible out there. If anything, I'll wager it's gotten worse. Even if we could contact the hospital, they may not be able to come to us."
Blanche lingered at the base of the stairs, waiting for someone to answer Spark. Blanche wasn't sure what to say. If they told him the degree of the injury, would he panic? Would telling him make the situation worse?
Candela tossed her communicator onto a box and grabbed a fistful of her hair. "What do we do, Professor? Is he going to be OK for however long it takes to get help? I've never seen a cut this bad. All that blood…"
Spark chewed his lip and watched Willow and Candela crisscross the basement, totally absorbed in their worrying. Blanche felt like they were witnessing the scene through a glass, like the others were in some museum exhibit that Blanche could only watch from the outside.
Spark wasn't smiling any more. His expression turned resolute, and while Willow and Candela were busy formulating solutions, he planted his hands firmly on the floor. Blanche knew what he was going to do, but found themself powerless to stop it. Spark pushed himself to his feet and stood upright, completely unflinching, as though nothing were out of the ordinary whatsoever.
"Everyone, listen to me!" he thundered.
Candela and the professor froze and stared at him, mouths agape. Even the thunder quieted for him. If Blanche hadn't seen the horrendous tear on his back minutes ago, they would have assumed he was as full of life as ever. He stood with the determination and sobriety he usually saved for battles.
"Spark," said Professor Willow, holding out his hands as if calming a wild pokémon. "You need to lie down."
Spark ignored him. "I don't want you to worry about me. There's enough else to worry about with the storm. I'll be fine. I know it."
Candela scoffed. "How could you know?"
"Gut feeling, I guess," Spark said with a smirk.
"Hardy-har," Candela grumbled. "Seriously, Spark, you've got a nasty gash from whatever hit you. We need to do something about it."
"Sooner rather than later," Willow added, looking toward the ceiling. "But with the weather as it is…"
"We need to treat it ourselves, as best we can," said Blanche. They brushed invisible wrinkles out of their flowing coat and addressed Candela. "Like I said, we must stop the bleeding. Each moment we delay puts Spark's life in danger."
Spark chuckled. "I really don't think-"
"I don't care what you do or don't think. Your shock might be preventing you from understanding the gravity of your wound, but believe me when I tell you that if you continue losing blood at this rate, you will be dead before the weather clears," Blanche said in their steeliest voice. They leveled their eyes at Spark, exuding all the authority they could muster as they strode across the basement floor toward him. They had to keep it together, stop letting their emotions get the better of them. Willow was still distracted by the storm overhead, and Candela relied too much on the whims of her fiery heart to give Spark what he needed now. Blanche had to act with logic and skill if they meant to keep Spark stable until professional help could arrive.
Spark's mouth moved, but the words wouldn't come. He looked surprised, and a bit scared, and if Blanche wasn't mistaken, impressed. They felt heat rising to their cheeks again, though out of a sudden sheepishness rather than anger this time.
"Thank you, Blanche," said Professor Willow, and he tugged his disheveled lab coat back into place, mirroring Blanche's own adjustment. "Candela, get the first aid kit and some clean towels from upstairs. Spark, you're exacerbating your injury. You need to lie down."
Candela nodded and dashed for the stairs. Blanche offered their arms to Spark for stability, but he shook his head. Sweat trickled from his temple, though the basement felt pleasantly cool to Blanche. Now that they were close to him, they saw the subtle swaying of his body. They gently took hold of Spark's forearm and turned his wrist to see the slight blue tinge of his fingernails. A spike of alarm shot up Blanche's spine. He'd already lost too much blood in the time it had taken them to realize the extent of the injury.
"Professor, he's entering hypovolemic shock," Blanche said, struggling to keep the frightened waver out of their words.
"Get him down," Willow instructed, coming to Spark's other side.
But Spark's legs were already buckling. Blanche and Willow caught him under the arms and crouched with his weight, lowering him to the floor, angling his body so he could lie on his stomach. His eyes fluttered and his breaths came quick and shallow from his blueish lips. He'd spent too long resisting and was paying the price.
Blanche exchanged a glance with Willow, whose jaw was clenched. He knew as well as Blanche did that their timeline had just been drastically shortened. Waiting out the storm could be a fatal mistake even if they did their best to intervene.
The clatter of Candela taking the steps two at a time drew Blanche's attention away. Team Valor's leader stopped at the bottom of the stairs, her hand over her heart, her face ashen.
"The lab…" Candela said, and had to pause for a gulp of air. "It's been destroyed!"