Flicker's frantic whinnying sounded distant and muffled. What was he so upset about? Had something happened to Candela? Candela…

Spark opened his eyes. Though his vision was blurry, he could make out Candela a few feet away, standing upright, gesticulating with her arms as she spoke.

"They can't be gone. I have to finish them myself! They must not die without knowing the pain that I have endured!"

Spark snapped into the present. It wasn't Candela speaking in that raw, wild voice. It was Moltres. Whatever this Candela-Moltres amalgam was, she should not have been back on her feet.

Knowing he had to do something before Candela went full firebird again, Spark tried to sit up. A sharp pain in his gut stopped him, and the memory of the ice spike returned. When he looked down, however, he found the ice had vanished. Melted, maybe? He gingerly touched the bloody hole in his shirt and found another layer of fabric beneath. A bandage?

"Zapdos!"

Spark tensed, which only increased the pain in his side. Candela – Moltres? – had spotted him. Her ponyta whickered nervously and danced out of her way as she marched toward Spark.

"How dare you defend the humans?" she accused. "I ought to turn you and your human pet to ash right now!"

She raised her arms, tiny licks of flame already forming. Spark cast about wildly for a means of defense, but had too little time to act. He'd have to reason with her, remind her that she'd never escape without him, but it was all happening so fast.

Hypno jumped in front of Spark, pendulum swinging. Candela snarled at him, but the flames sizzled out, and her eyelids fluttered. She went down slowly, sinking to her knees first, reaching forward as if she still intended to attack. At last, she couldn't hold out any longer, and flopped to the side. In any other circumstance, Spark might have found it funny.

Satisfied with his work, Hypno turned his attention to Spark. Behind him, Flicker calmed and settled next to Blanche, who still lay unconscious where Spark had left them.

"Are they OK? Blanche, I mean?" Spark asked. Even speaking caused his wound left by the ice to radiate pain.

Flicker's ears twitched and he nosed Blanche's face, angling their head so Spark could see that the frost had melted and color had returned to their features. Though Spark was relieved to see Blanche looking healthier, there was no way to tell if they were trapped in their frozen mindscape or merely passed out. He hoped it was the latter.

As for Candela, he supposed he should be grateful that she was physically capable of storming around and making threats. It meant Moltres hadn't followed through on its threat of cooking her from the inside out. Spark still couldn't believe the bird would turn on her like that. And what had it meant when it accused Zapdos of defending humans? Was it because Spark had attacked Candela when she was on her rampage? Maybe Moltres couldn't differentiate between Spark and Zapdos anymore.

Whatever the case, Candela had been subdued, at least for now. Spark would have to remember to dig out the sedative Waik had gifted them. Hypno had a pretty stellar track record when it came to knocking humans out, but Spark worried that if Moltres took full control again, it might be too much for Hypno to handle on his own.

Which reminded Spark… if Blanche was still out cold, and Candela was still Moltres' puppet, who had dressed his wound?

As if to answer his question, Hypno placed his hand on Spark's forehead, feeling for a temperature. Spark watched in silence as the pokémon rolled up his shirt to check the bandage. Hypno nodded to himself, pleased by the condition of the wrapping.

"You are one amazing pokémon, Hypster," Spark said. "Thank you."

Hypno scratched behind his head bashfully, color rising in his cheeks.

"How do you know first aid?" Spark asked. He had a lot of faith in the intelligence of psychic pokémon, but it surprised him that Hypno knew how to bind a wound. It didn't seem like something the Rockets would have taught him.

Hypno hung his head and averted his gaze. Perhaps it wasn't a matter of being taught the skill so much as having to develop the ability to treat injuries on his own.

"Hypno… did you treat the other pokémon? The ones from the experiments?"

Hypno squeezed his eyes shut, as if the words had physically hurt him.

Spark wanted to slap himself for bringing it up. "I'm sorry, I spoke without thinking. That's kind of a specialty of mine. I'm the champion of putting my foot in my mouth."

The pokémon grunted, and Spark realized after a few seconds that it was a laugh. A very rusty laugh, but a real one.

"OK, bud. We need to get moving," Spark said, bracing himself to sit up.

Hypno immediately pressed Spark's shoulder to the ground, shaking his head vigorously.

"We can't stay here, Hypno," Spark said. "If we stay here, we'll die."

Spark didn't mention the fact that even if they all got out of this pit and climbed the trail, there was still the matter of the door. It was almost funny. They could survive all of this, only to die in the process of opening the way out.

And even if they all got out alive, what then? They'd have to live with all these memories swirling in their heads. All of Team Rocket's cruelty, all the brushes with death, the madness of the birds, the dozens of souls lost to these caverns…

Spark glanced toward where Dillinger had been before he passed out, but she was gone. All that remained was a gathering of pokéballs, presumably the ones she'd scavenged from her fallen teammates.

"Where's Dr. Dillinger?" he asked Hypno, unable to stop the anxious tremor in his voice.

Hypno pointed across the stone platform. Dillinger lay on her back, her arms folded tenderly over her stomach. He must have moved her there while Spark was out. Somehow, the pokémon still carried a strange respect for his former trainer. Hypno gazed at Dillinger for a long while, his eyes watery.

While Hypno was distracted, Spark rolled to his side and pushed himself up. He sucked in sharply as his injury flared up, but he didn't dare disrupt his momentum. He got to a seated position and clasped his arm over his stomach as pain spiked through his body.

Hypno grabbed him by the shoulders again, but Spark wouldn't let himself be moved. With his free arm, he pushed Hypno back.

"It's fine. I'll be fine," he assured Hypno through gritted teeth.

It couldn't be that bad of an injury, could it? As awful as Spark felt in that moment, he was still conscious and talking. The wound was fairly far to the left side of his torso. Another couple inches, and Dillinger would have missed him entirely. If he was lucky, the strike had avoided his vital organs.

Lucky or not, Spark wasn't sure how he was going to get his party safely to the top of the chamber when he could barely sit up straight. He lifted his shirt to see the dark cloth Hypno had bound him with and discovered it to be a scrap of Waik's robe. His fingers hovered over the wrapping as he debated whether it was better to check the wound or leave it be. Fearing that messing with it would either exacerbate the injury or cause him to pass out again, he decided to trust Hypno's handiwork and come back to it later.

"Can you help me up?"

Hypno shuffled his feet uncertainly, but offered one of his thick arms for Spark to hold onto. Spark hauled himself up, grinding his teeth to distract himself from the tight, pinching sensation in his abdomen. He had to catch his breath once he was upright. Or, as upright as he could manage. He leaned heavily on Hypno as he regulated his breathing. Though the pokémon was small for his kind, he was deceptively strong, and seemed nonplused by the extra weight he was supporting. He held Spark's elbow and looked up at him with a worried expression.

"Don't sweat it, Hyppy," Spark said in a thin, reedy voice. "I've had hangovers with worse bites than this. Now then… Will Candela be down for a while?"

Hypno waggled his hand indecisively.

"Is she OK? She's just sleeping, right?"

Hypno nodded and Spark watched the gentle rise and fall of Candela's chest to reassure himself that she was merely unconscious. Though she looked like the Candela Spark had always known, he had to wonder where the real Candela was. When she woke up, would it be as his friend? Or would it be as a crazed legendary pokémon?

"Candela… I'm so sorry this is happening to you," Spark whispered. "Hypno, we need to be ready for when she wakes up. We need to get the cart out of the ice."

Hypno pointed toward Blanche's frozen sphere, which had been eviscerated since Spark had last viewed it. Sir Slashalot posed in front of his creation, radiating confidence but shivering from the prolonged contact with the ice. The globe had been hollowed out so that the cart could be easily accessed and dragged to the ground.

Sir Slashalot bounded up to him, nose twitching. Spark gently stroked his quills, damp from melting ice flakes.

"Nice work," Spark complimented. "Why don't you warm up with Flicker, OK? Come on."

They made their way toward Flicker and Blanche. Spark hated how slowly he moved. His body felt like it was filled with lead, and between that at the stabbing feeling in his gut, all he wanted to do was lie down. But if he did, would he ever get back up?

Hypno guided him to his knees next to Blanche so he could assess their condition. Though they looked less like a morbid ice sculpture than they did before, their brows were pulled together in a grimace. They were suffering, and Spark could only assume why.

"We've got to wake them up. Hypno, please get the cart ready and bring me the duffel bag."

Hypno dipped his head and jogged toward the ice to get to work. Flicker's nostrils flared apprehensively as he and Sir Slashalot watched Spark place his hand – crusted with dirt and dried blood – against Blanche's face. As soon as he did, Dillinger's face flashed through his head, and he instantly pulled away. What if he shocked them? Before, the electricity had only come in emotionally-charged moments, but that last burst had been so strong. He had to play it safe.

"Blanche, wake up," he commanded, hoping the sudden noise might pull them out of it. The louder he spoke, the sharper the pain in his side became. He held his hand to his stomach in an effort to subdue it.

"Slashy, jostle them or something," he said, and the sandslash poked Blanche in the side tentatively.

"With a little more urgency?"

Sir Slashalot drew back a claw and clocked Blanche in the jaw. Spark flinched in surprise and quickly pulled the pokémon back before he could strike again.

"OK! OK! That's enough!" he exclaimed. "That's not what I meant by-"

"Spark?"

Blanche's voice was frail and ragged. Their eyes were half-lidded and foggy, but they lit up when they found Spark. Their chapped lips cracked a listless smile.

"Blanche! How are you feeling? Are you OK?"

The smile flickered and changed into something more desperate. "Why did you pull me out? It's not safe here…"

A bead of sweat rolled down Spark's temple. "What…?"

"I can't stay out here. It's better in the water, with Articuno," Blanche murmured.

"What are you talking about?"

Their eyes fluttered. "I have to go back to the water. I can't be out here. It hurts too much."

Spark grabbed Blanche's arm, as if they might physically disappear. "More than drowning under the ice? Snap out of it, Blanche! Don't you remember what happened last time?"

But their eyes had closed. Spark shook their arm sharply, ignoring the possibility that he could shock them.

"Blanche! If you don't wake up, you could die!"

Blanche moaned and their eyes opened to slits. "Please stop… it hurts…"

Spark breath hitched. "I know, and I'm sorry, but you're not thinking right. You have to stay with me, OK?"

A tear streaked from the corner of Blanche's eye. He'd never seen them quite this vulnerable, not even when he'd carried them through the crystal cavern when they'd been too cold to move. This was something different.

"I can't, Spark. I can't," they whispered.

"Blanche, I need you. I can't do this alone," Spark said, tightening his hold on their arm.

Blanche's eyes closed again. "I'm sorry…"

Spark cupped his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the pathetic sound of his shaky breathing, trying to hold back the rush of emotion he was feeling, trying to keep himself from falling apart. He didn't have time to linger with Blanche and force them awake. He didn't think he had the spirit for such an undertaking, either.

He let go of Blanche's arm and sat back. "Flicker. Please watch them. If anything changes, you have to get my attention immediately, OK? If their breathing slows, if they make a noise, anything."

Flicker tossed his mane in confirmation. As intuitive as Spark was with pokémon, he wished he could read the ponyta's mind. How were any of the pokémon handling this? Seeing their trainers in such a state?

Hypno placed the bag next to Spark. Spark thanked him and rummaged through it until he found the vial of Waik's potent sedative. He slipped it in his pocket.

Despite what he'd said to Blanche, Spark knew he wasn't alone. He had his pokémon, and his friends' pokémon, on his side. He could do this. He had to do this.

Spark took a few deep breaths, drawing in strength with each inhale. "OK, guys. I think I know how to get us home. But I'm going to need your help."

§

AN: I hope I'm not ruining the integrity of the fic by reassuring you that there is light at the end of this tunnel. I'm not the sort of person to leave things bleak, especially in a world that already feels very bleak for many people right now. In my little PoGo universe, this is a huge, traumatic, formative event in the leaders' narrative, and will leave them with physical and emotional scars. But it will also allow them to burn brighter in the future. If, of course, they survive to see that future…