Don't worry, all these vignettes connect together in the long run.

A Little Bit of Good, Chapter 3

"Grimsley, are you nervous?"

"No, why would I be nervous?"

"Are you nervous here?"

"No."

"Then get off my desk."

…..

Ugh. How does this happen? I mean all my life I thought the space I had was not enough. Now looking at this closet full of junk and scrapbooks, I can't help think that my life has got to be more than the sum of this stuff. Clear it all out, Caitlin, it's not worth anything. You live in Unova now, you have to leave Sinnoh behind. This sudden shift is kind of big, it's like a whole new region's moving in. You just have to throw away most of the useless stuff and just save the stuff that really matters.

You're a big girl now Caitlin, you can do things on your own now. You can even speak without someone having to give you the courage. Think about how much more happy you'll be if you can breathe. Remember breathing? Breathing was fun. You can't breathe and have fun in a stuffed little apartment. Ha, me, having fun again, it's so funny it makes me want to burst into tears and throw myself out the window. I need to let these things go. These piles of unread books packed in this box, you know, just in case…just in case of what? Arceus, help me with this please…

….

Grimsley looked down at the drink in his hand. Green tea as always, no added

sugar or milk or honey or anything. It was just tea. The green went on forever, never into another etching color, always a green. But Grimsley knew that nothing ever stayed the same.

He watched the battle unfold on the television before him. The little runt of a trainer wasn't half bad. He had brown hair that complimented his black eyes quite nicely, hair reaching the collar, probably more hiding under the hat with the outline

of a pokeball on the cap. His jacket was of two shades of blue and he wore black trainers pants. Despite having a decent face, he was weak. Not necessarily weak when it came to athleticism, but more so emotionally. It was clear the boy was crying out in pain when he called for his pokémon to make an attack. He couldn't stand seeing them in any sort of pain, and anything that harmed his pokémon could be seen inflicting his complexion.

"Weak," Grimsley said out load, as he took another sip.

"Cameron is doing alright." Caitlin said, looking at the screen.

"You know this boy?"

"Cameron is my nephew." Caitlin said as she absentmindedly stared at the tv, no care for what was going on.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Well you didn't ask."

"…."

Cameron had lost by this point, his Throh lying lifeless on the arena floor. Cameron recalled the pokémon and then ran away as fast as he could, running away from his hideous defeat, tears streaming down his face.

"Weak." Grimsley said out load, as he took another sip.

"He'll get better. This isn't like him." Caitlin said as she stared at the tv, showing an empty arena.

"Sure."

"He'll get stronger."

"Of course."

"He's a whisper right now, but soon he'll be a roar."

"How precious."

"I don't care one way or the other." Caitlin said, now practically melted into her chair.

"What's it matter how strong he'll get. The only thing that will count is how people will see him when he's gone. As a winner or a loser, how they will remember him."

"If they remember him." Said Caitlin, now a piece of the scenery as her motionless, emotionless body sat sulked in the chair as pale as herself.

Grimsley stared at her blankly. She was one with the room now, limp and lifeless.

"I'll…go get you your pills now." Grimsley said softly. He didn't move a muscle.

Both of their souls, broken.

…..

All of these years and years of junk and flotsam, piling up inside this closet en route to the sky, and I've had it. Need a plastic souvenir anyone? I got twenty. That's it Caitlin, just let it all go. It needs to go. You can't have a roommate without any space for your roommate to, well, room. What's this, a birthday card? Since when have you told anyone when your birthday is? A pamphlet on an artist from Kanto, a phonebook, a Glaceon pin, a contest ribbon, an expensive knife, a scarf, miles and piles and piles of stuff I should have gotten rid of years ago.

Though somehow I've been petrified to see what's been kept inside these chests and cabinets. I guess it's just really strange finding stuff from a region, or a lifetime ago. It's just…there are things that make you feel you need them so you have proof of where you've been, that you're history is real. That you've lived. And…I can't let these go. Back into boxes they go.

Ugh. How does this happen? I mean, did I tear up my whole apartment just to put it back together again? Caitlin, you'll be fine just get creative with the space. Getting creative it what you do best. Do that so that all of these things fit together and then my whole life can stay in there. But where do I put these shoes? Why can't I be some other Caitlin who can just let things go.

You know, Ms. Perfect, that's not me, I'm going to keep things how they'll always be.

...

"Are you okay, Grimsley?"

"Define okay?"

"You're hands are bleeding."

"That's not my blood."