"What do you mean? There must be some mistake."
"No mistake, ma'am. I'm sorry, but your son was unable to sit for the duration of the exam, and failed to complete it. We can't accept him to our school."
"Our school? My family founded this school! You realize who you're talking to, don't you?"
"Yes, ma'am, of course I do, and as always, we at Volt Academy are honored to have you and your husband on our campus."
"Oh, but not my son?"
"We have strict entry requirements at the Academy. Spark may be a bright child, but if he can't concentrate on academics and learn how to conduct himself in the classroom, we can't include him in our program."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"I understand that you're upset, ma'am. But you know better than anyone that we are a prestigious institution dedicated to teaching the best and brightest of the region. Because of that, we have stringent guidelines regarding the students we can accept. Spark didn't meet them this year. Perhaps next year, with some counseling…"
"I'm an alumna of this school. All the members of my family are alumni. We treasure our years here, and I'm certain the quality of education and the reputation of Volt influenced our admission into respectable colleges and rewarding careers. I'll not stand for Spark being denied the experience just because he's a bit fidgety."
"Ma'am, he's more that 'a bit fidgety.' The boy can't sit still. Even if he could… I don't know how to say this."
"Spit it out. I'd like know."
"He doodled all over his exam paper. The proctor had to stop him from singing. Twice. He misspelled his own name at the top. He wrote 'Spork.'"
"Oh, he was just being playful. He's quirky."
"The Volt Academy entrance exam is not the time to be 'playful' or 'quirky.' I'm sorry, ma'am, but Spark isn't Volt caliber."
The car ride home from the school was silent and agonizing. Sometimes, Spark wondered if he was even real. Everyone talked as if he wasn't there. Usually, if a grownup was talking to him, it was to tell him he wasn't supposed to be there anyway. Clearly, Volt didn't want him around either. Not that he liked it there. The rooms were too cold, and nobody smiled.
Spark played with plastic pokémon models on the kitchen floor while his mom and dad discussed the situation that night. He was just an obstacle to them, blocking their paths around the kitchen as they fretted and paced. He staged a battle between a pikachu and a bulbasaur as they talked, pretending not to listen in. Not that they'd notice.
His mother kicked it off, as she always did.
"He can't go back to public school. What are we going to tell my parents?"
"Didn't the administrator say Spark could try again next year?"
"Next year will be too late. Missing the first possible admission period is a stain on his record. Even if he gets in next year, he'll be the odd one out. And I'm starting to wonder if…"
"If what?"
"Well, what if he's… slow?"
"He's not. He just thinks a little differently."
"I don't know what we did wrong. What if he's the first one in the family not to graduate from Volt?"
"Is there a way he can retake the test? Maybe today was an off day for him."
"Maybe. I'm sure we can pull some strings. Sparky?"
Spark looked up from his mock gym battle. The pikachu was on the ropes, but the bulbasaur felt bad and was holding back. He held them in place, frozen in time, as he waited for his mother to continue.
"What happened today, Sparky?"
Spark shrugged. "I dunno."
His mother's mouth formed that tight, thin line it did when she didn't like an answer. "I just feel like you didn't try today. What was wrong?"
"I did try! I really did!" Spark said. He hated that his mom was so sad and worried. "I didn't like the test."
"Sparky, you're going to have to do a lot of things you don't like as you grow up," said his father. "I know tests aren't fun, but they're part of life. They're how we learn."
"I know, but…"
His mom raised her finger to cut him off. "Do you think you can try to take it again?"
Spark rolled the pikachu between his fingers. "I… yeah, I can try…"
"You have to really, really try this time, Sparky. You can't goof off. This is very, very important."
His throat hurt. For some reason, he wanted to cry. "I know. I'll try."
After his parents were asleep, he slipped out his window and went to the only place he knew could clear his mind. He made this journey a few times a month, but nobody had caught on. Spark suspected that at this point, he could probably march out the front door, banging pots and pans, and still not be discovered by his parents. He smiled at the idea as he pried aside a loose piece of the power plant's fencing.
The glow and hum of the power plant was a lullaby to Spark. The low drone drowned out the dozens of competing thoughts in his head, and suddenly he could think clearly, about one thing at a time rather than 50. He imagined the chrome spires and fantastical twists of steel to be the architecture of an alien city, and he was the human ambassador. He liked to draw comics about it, but hadn't brought his sketchbook tonight. In fact, he'd drawn a scene about an alien dinner party on his exam that afternoon, because he'd had a great idea about what might be served at such an event, and he had to write it down right away. Plus, he couldn't focus on the questions for very long before they jumbled up into meaningless nothing in his head. He had to take breaks by humming or drawing or walking around the room. How was he supposed to know that was against the test's rules?
He didn't mean to, but he started to cry. He just wanted to play pretend and calm down, but the stupid exam was still buzzing around in his head. What if he was slow? What if he wasn't smart enough? Everyone else he knew was so, so smart, and he was just… Spark. He really had tried his best, or he thought he had. But maybe he hadn't. The other kids in the room were quiet and solemn, and they didn't need to get out of their seats or sing songs or take drawing breaks to finish their tests. They knew what they were doing. They were good kids, and Spark was a bad kid who couldn't do anything right, and his mom had cried a little before bed, and it was his fault, and maybe everyone would be better off if he really was an alien ambassador on a faraway planet.
He'd recognized one of the kids in the exam room. The new kid, the one with pretty white hair, the one who had tattled when Candela beat up those big kids a while ago. Spark didn't know the kid's name, or even whether the kid was a boy or a girl. He supposed girl, because the kid wore a skirt in the exam room, and had long hair, but his gut told him that he was missing something. Whatever. That kid, she or he had stared at him when he started humming to himself, and had looked angry with him for a few seconds, but then had sort of smiled. It made Spark's face warm. He'd been wrong about nobody smiling. One person at Volt had smiled, and it was a tiny but wonderful smile.
But he wouldn't get to see it again, because the kid probably would never want to play with Candela and him, and he certainly wasn't going to get into Volt with him or her. Maybe even Candela wouldn't want to play with him anymore. She got so mad at him and hated when he cried, and he cried a lot. He didn't want to. It just happened. There wasn't room in his body for everything he felt, and it always came pouring out.
He was tired of feeling so much, all at once. It made it so hard to think sometimes. And he was tired of being alone, even when other people were around them. He didn't want to be a ghost.
He just wanted to play and to stop feeling sad but instead he was bawling on the concrete, like the giant baby that he was.
The hush of leaves shaking in a sudden wind made him jump. Spark stood and wiped the crumbs of dirt from his knees, compulsively trying to make himself look presentable in case a grownup was there. But it wasn't a grownup. It wasn't like anything he'd ever seen, not in real life, not outside of picture books or his scratchy drawings.
Zapdos perched above him on a steel bar, adjusting its shining wings. Its eyes locked with his, and he felt visible for the first time in months. The bird was so much bigger than he'd imagined in his daydreams. It filled up his world, and for a while, only Spark and Zapdos existed. The terror and wonder in Spark's heart created such blissful torment.
Something wasn't right. The buzz of the power plant turned to a whine, a ringing in his ears, growing louder. The image of Zapdos faded, and Spark felt himself falling, falling…
"Spark?"
He opened his eyes. Blanche and Candela's blurry faces hovered above him. He felt a hand resting in his hair, and realized he was propped in Blanche's lap.
"What…?" His voice didn't sound like his own and seemed distant and muffled.
"Spark!" Though his vision remained hazy, there was no mistaking the bright half-moon of Candela's smile. She surprised him with a dangerously tight, though brief, hug. "If we weren't all in such a mess, I'd probably kill you!"
Spark blinked a few times to clear his eyes. "I'm sorry…?"
"You should be! Shit, Spark, you've got to stop doing this kind of thing."
Spark sat up, suddenly embarrassed about resting on Blanche's legs. His head spun for a few seconds, but soon stabilized. "What… what kind of thing?"
Candela used her fingers to keep count as she spoke. "Oh, you know, running into hazardous weather, overheating out of stubbornness, acting as a human shield for an evil mastermind, and my personal favorite, HURLING YOURSELF INTO THE MYSTERIOUS BLACK ABYSS."
"Didn't you also play human shield for Dillinger's hypno?" Spark asked. The things he'd give for some ibuprofen…
"Well, yes," said Candela, lowering her fingers. "And as it turns out, Blanche and I were also sucked through the doorway, and not just to save your sorry ass again."
Spark hid his face in his hands and pretended he was just massaging his throbbing head. He couldn't handle the weight of the shame he was feeling. What the hell was wrong with him? Dr. Dillinger had been right to label him a perpetual damsel in distress. He couldn't linger on the thought for long. "What happened?"
"Zapdos followed you through the door," Blanche said, devoid of emotion. "That was enough for Articuno to lose its hold, and within seconds, the pillar became too strong for us to resist. We were all pulled through."
"Luckily, our new friend's quick thinking saved us from a messy crash," Candela said.
Spark dropped his hands. "New friend…?"
Dr. Dillinger's hypno leaned around Candela's shoulder, the picture of meekness. Spark waved at him and the hypno averted his eyes.
"He salvaged our pokéballs from Dr. Dillinger's coat and we used Candela's pidgeot to land safely on the other side of the door," Blanche said. Spark didn't like how clinical they sounded.
"Here," said Candela, passing a ball to Spark. "She's been knocking around in there, waiting for you. I'm surprised she didn't bust out on her own."
Spark held Rutabaga's pokéball and watched it rock for a moment before releasing her. The instant the raichu materialized, she bounded into Spark's arms. He held her close, even though her excited sparks tickled and stung.
"Hypno also nicked Dillinger's communicator. No more psychic circlets!" Candela announced, pointing at her head to illustrate the absence of the device.
The gears clicked into place in Spark's brain as he stroked Rutabaga's fur. "We're on the other side of the door?"
"See for yourself," Candela said. She stood, granting Spark a better view of the area.
He wasn't sure what he expected, but this felt like a letdown. They had landed in another cavernous chamber, a bulb-like room with glowing crystals sprouting from the rounded walls. Scraps of paper and broken machinery lay in heaps here and there, and Spark couldn't help but compare the image to Willow's lab after the thunderstorm.
"Kinda like modern art, isn't it?" Candela mused. "I know, I know. Another cave, yippee. There's a hallway over there, but that looks like the only way out of the room. We saw some grunts retreating through there, but had to deal with you first."
Spark tried to narrow down his many questions. "Where are the birds?"
"We don't know," said Blanche. "There's no sign of them. Or of the portal, for that matter."
Swallowing his pride, Spark moved on to his next concern. "That you for, uh, dealing with me."
"That's what we're here for, right? If we didn't have to rescue you from your own dumb stunts all the time, we'd probably get bored," Candela joked.
"Yeah, you probably would," Spark agreed, trying to smile. He felt that lump in his throat again, like he always used to as a child. He couldn't cry. He couldn't keep being the weepy-eyed fuckup in need of babysitting. Rutabaga twitched her nose and watched him closely.
"Just try to use your head, OK? Can you try?" Candela asked.
"Yeah," said Spark. He felt sick. "I'll try, Candy."
Candela flipped him off, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her affection. "Good! But call me Candy one more time, and I'll break your other ankle. OK! I'm going to scout around and see what else was blown in here. Hopefully some food and water. Team Rocket couldn't have been camped out in that hall for however-many-years without some necessities, right?"
Spark nodded. Candela and the hypno left him with Blanche and started toward a broken cabinet across the room as Rutabaga snugged herself into a ball in his lap. Spark waited until Candela and the hypno were sufficiently far away before he spoke.
"Blanche, I-"
His breath caught as Blanche's arms closed around him from behind. He felt their body against his back, warm, shaking with silent sobs. Unsure of what to do, Spark awkwardly patted their hand and waited for them to compose themself. After about a minute, Blanche drew a deep breath and released him.
"Is everything OK?" Spark whispered, rotating to face them. Rutabaga grumbled at being disturbed.
Blanche brushed their sleeve across their face, whisking away any evidence of tears. "Yes, of course. But I'm worried about you."
"I'm sorry," Spark said.
"I don't like how Candela handled it, but she's not wrong. Spark, you have to stop doing this. I don't understand why you're so hell bent on destroying yourself."
"What?" Spark glanced toward Candela to make sure he hadn't spoken too loudly, but she was still distracted with yanking on a crooked cabinet drawer.
"You're deliberately putting yourself in harm's way, and it needs to stop," Blanche said. "I can't take much more of this, Spark. Neither can Candela. We can't lose you."
"You're not going to lose me," Spark said. "I told you to trust me, didn't I? And everything came out fine! Well, essentially fine."
"Miraculously not dying is a poor measure of 'fine,'" Blanche said, raising an eyebrow.
"I've made it this far in life by miraculously not dying, and I intend to keep it that way."
The corner of Blanche's mouth twitched, and Spark knew they were struggling to keep their emotions in check. "Those thoughts you told me about before… how you feel about yourself…"
"My cripplingly low self-esteem is an entirely separate issue," Spark said.
"This isn't a joke, Spark. You didn't know what would happen when you let go of my hand. You were lucky to make it to the other side, and luckier still that you didn't do more than knock yourself out when you landed. You could have been killed for the umpteenth time in the past month. I understand that you were trying to save me, but Candela and I went through the portal anyway. Did you even consider how I would have felt if I didn't find you on the other side? Or worse, if I found you dead?"
Spark waited, speechless, as Blanche caught their breath. They hardly looked like themself. Their beautiful hair was a ratty mess, their face was smeared with dirt, their favorite blue coat was frayed and pulling apart at the seams. Their typically flat, calm face was lined with a thousand competing emotions that Spark knew they'd worked all their life to cage and control.
Blanche bit their lip and closed their eyes. "I feel terrible for what I've done to you, in one way or another. If you had died because I couldn't hold on to you… I don't know what I'd do."
Spark placed a hand on their knee. "Blanche, you haven't done anything to feel terrible about. In fact, you keep saving my life. I was trying to return the favor."
Blanche's brows drew together in anger. "No, you weren't. You were being selfish and reckless. I know this isn't exactly the time for us to work through the hurt in your head, but you can't keep going like this. I don't know how to help you. I'm not good at this sort of thing, and I don't want to cause you any more pain by bringing it up, but we have to do something."
Spark gently massaged Rutabaga behind the ears as he digested Blanche's words. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone. But it was true that he hadn't considered the consequences for his friends. All he'd wanted was to help. To unburden them. To save them. He'd even managed to screw that up.
Candela whooped from across the room, and Spark assumed she'd found something useful. It was as good an excuse as any to change the subject. "Candela seems to be taking this pretty well."
Blanche sighed and permitted the subject change. "You know her. She lands on her feet."
"She's probably compensating for crying in front of us earlier," Spark added.
Blanche didn't respond right away, and Spark immediately regretted mentioning it. "After everything Dr. Dillinger put us through, why did you try to protect her? I've never seen Candela in such a state. Not since..."
"I know," Spark interjected, noticing Candela coming back across the cavern. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not ready to be friends with Willow's evil ex, but I couldn't just let her fall through the portal."
"But you didn't have a problem going through yourself."
Spark could have kicked himself. "Right. Um. Listen, it was a weird moment, what with the gaping trans-dimensional rift and the three giant legendary pokémon and the army of criminal scientists."
Candela flopped down next to Spark, startling Rutabaga. "Speaking of the army of criminal scientists, they sure have a weak spot for junk food! Check it out."
She dumped a drawer she'd torn from a cabinet into the area between the three leaders, spilling protein bars, bags of chips, and soda cans. The hypno gingerly set down a white first aid kit next to Candela's spoils.
"I suppose it's marginally better than starvation," Blanche said, wrinkling their nose at a bright package of salt and vinegar chips that had landed close to their legs.
"Sorry I couldn't find a kale salad for you, Your Majesty," Candela said, tearing open a protein bar. "I know it isn't ideal, but it's what we've got, and we need to eat if we're going to chase down Dillinger and her cronies."
"Are we going to chase them down?" Spark asked.
Candela talked around a bite of her bar. "What choice do we have? The door is gone, the birds are missing, and we can't let Team Rocket get away with whatever they're doing down here."
"She's right. There's a reason this place was sealed away. Even if we knew a way out, we can't let Team Rocket go unchecked," Blanche said.
Spark reflected on the marvelous and ominous carvings on the stone door. The suffering royalty left a strong impression in his mind, along with the demonic, horned humans. Dillinger had called them hybrids, and Spark dreaded what that entailed. Something horrible had happened here, and he wasn't sure he was ready to unravel the mystery.
"It's settled then," Candela said, popping open a can of soda. "We eat, we rest, and we keep going. And if we're lucky, we eventually go home to the professor and tell him he has terrible taste in chicks."
If they were lucky. Spark wanted to trust Candela, to play along with her energetic optimism, but he didn't know if he could. Like she'd told him to before, he supposed he'd just have to try.
§
AN: My name's Quixi, and I deal with my emotional trauma by distributing it to video game characters. Anyhoo, review functions seem to be back, so huzzah! That is all.
9/29/16 - Just kidding, reviews are broken again, silly me. -_-