It wasn't long before her eyes began to wearily peel back. She felt a sharp pain in her side, and some compression on her leg. She was too afraid of what it could be to look at it. Instead, she tried to gain her bearings, glancing about, searching for Gray, for Ares, for anyone.

With a grunt, she tried to move, but whatever was on her leg had planted itself there. Hesitantly, she looked back to find part of the ceiling had collapsed. The whole cord connector was planted right on top of her. Gritting her teeth, Atena called upon her telekinetic power, and slowly raised it, pulling her numb leg out from under it. She was surprised it wasn't crushed. She could feel a few fractures, but nothing seriously broken. That was fortunate. What wasn't fortunate was the metal bar sticking out of either end of her torso, in her side. She'd been impaled by some of the debris from the crash down. Fortunately, it seemed to be holding in much of her blood. Pulling it out would be a mistake right now. A sharp magenta glow came from her hand, and she slashed at the bar, cutting off much of both ends to give her more mobility. The movement shot pain coursing through her body.

Keeping her breathing level, the gardevoir rose to her feet, trying to get a better look around, still seeking out her trainer and her peer, before her eyes widened at what she saw. It appeared the others had gotten up quicker than her, but evidently didn't have time to do much for her. Ares was under the claw of a metagross, struggling against its weight, unable to move. Not far from them was the owner of the metagross: Striker. He was in Gray's face, speaking something Atena couldn't hear. His face red, his knuckles bloodied. Gray's face was the source of that blood, he looked beaten to a pulp, barely even conscious as the old man held him up by the front of his shirt, before throwing Grayson down.

She could feel a rage building inside her, unlike one she'd ever felt. A supernatural, instinctual, primal fury. Whatever fight she'd just missed, they'd evidently lost. Now this old fuck had the gall to beat on her trainer? Her best friend? She was seeing through red lenses in her crimson eyes as she felt the pain of the bar, and her fractured leg, vanish. With the swipe of her hand, the metal wall of the gondola car was ripped away and flung aside, and she marched outside with a limp.

The sound was enough to call Striker's attention, who looked back at her and grimaced. "Metagross," he commanded. The large metallic Pokémon raised its claw, and pummeled it into Ares, burying him in the dirt, and it turned toward Atena. She raised a palm, violet energy crackling from her fingertips as the air seemed to bend and weave, warping to her power. Psychic lashed out, slugging into the much larger Pokémon, who barely budged, digging itself into the dirt, before it kicked off the ground, barreling for her.

Quickly, she swiped her hand through the air, a bit of telekinetic persuasion making the heavy metagross miss its mark, instead crashing into and through a nearby building. Her attention returned to Striker, whose slightly wide eyes betrayed his surprise. She didn't want his surprise, she wanted his fear. Bringing her hands together, the air seemed to bend around her again. A wind picked up, encircling the gardevoir as a small black dot materialized between her hands, and as she slowly pulled her hands apart, the tiny dot began to rapidly increase in size, the black hole's strength exponentially growing. With a yell, she threw her arms forward, and the black hole surged forth, ripping apart the ground it passed over, sucking it into the abyss. It was a draining move, and the most powerful one she had, but she frankly didn't care. She wanted this man gone. It had probably been his doing that brought the cable car down in the first place.

However, the metagross reappeared, flying itself in front of the void sphere—and what came next Atena didn't witness. Instead, she teleported herself directly to Grayson, grasping his arm in her hand, before she warped to Ares, grabbing him with her other hand, and sent them somewhere - anywhere else.

She fell to her hands and knees in the Ice Path, right next to the remains of their old campfire. Ares struggled to get up on shaky arms and legs, while Grayson remained where he was. He was out cold. Atena was quick to check his heartbeat, then his pulse, and finally his breath, confirming he was alive. She could only fill in the blanks of what happened while she'd been passed out, but evidence showed it had been nothing pretty. They'd been dispatched with ease. Ares was the second-best on the team, and he hadn't left a mark on that metagross. She'd gotten lucky, surprising them like she had. If Striker had been more prepared for her... she hated to think about what could have happened. Why had he attacked them? They weren't working with Clair, Lance, and Gray's father, at least not yet, he should have had no reason to think they were, unless he drew parallels that weren't there. Wouldn't that be fitting? The analytical guy over-analyzed to an untrue solution.

It took Atena a moment to realize Grayson was lacking his hiking bag—definitely not a good thing. That held the pokéballs for Atena and Ares. While the others were clipped to his pants waistline, Atena noticed with great worry that one of them was cracked.

It was Ade's.

Quickly, Atena grabbed the undamaged balls and let their respective Pokémon out of them. Seidon, Runa, and Sui were let out. Following this was a bit of confusion before the gardevoir managed to relay their situation to the others. Ares was forced to relinquish his position as sentry for the moment due to his injuries, resigning the role to the garchomp for now, while Sui took to the skies outside for surveillance.

Even worse about the loss of the bag was that they lacked any healing items now. Of course, healing items worked best to recover from damage dealt by other Pokémon. Recovering from damage like this bar in her side, and her fractures, would require more medical effort. Worse still: healing items had no effect on humans.

Knowing she couldn't do much in this position, Atena laid down beside Gray with a wince, trying to not put any weight on the bar. She turned her head to look at her trainer. No... she had to stop thinking of him like that. If they made it through this, they were becoming something else. More than trainer and Pokémon. More than best friends. Maybe more than lovers.

Her mouth felt dry as she moved a hand to drift across his swollen cheek. It was painful, seeing him like this. She was so used to the strong and confident Gray, always focused on his ambition, and their comfort. These last two days had flipped everything upside down.

She hated it.

Slowing her breathing to match his, she began to slink her way into his mind. It required a lot more focus than establishing a psychic link. It was more surgical, and subtle, able to cut into the mind without meeting much resistance, even against very strong-willed individuals.

Her eyes closed as she held her hand to his face, feeling his heartbeat as if it were her own, peering into his subconscious. Flashes of images fluttered in her mind as she moved deeper within. A broken pokéball, a scolding from a man, a dead tauros, a young girl who was laughing, a mother smothering her son in kisses, a torchic winning its first battle, a small ralts in the woods, a shouting match with the scolding man from before, a funeral for a mother, a pursuit of thieves, a kiss with a gardevoir...

She tried to ignore the images as she sought out Grayson himself. She had to make sure he was okay. She'd heard stories of people taking beatings, suffering major trauma, and falling into comas. She just needed to make sure he'd recover.

Moments later, Atena drew in a cold breath as she pulled her hand away, eyes opening. She'd confirmed to herself that he was alright, and using her empathic abilities, had eased his mind some. Enough to make his dreams less tumultuous.

A grunt from behind her let her know that Ares wanted to speak with her. Straining to get up, Atena turned her head to face the blaziken, who was holding his side and leaning against the wall. She established the connection.

[You need to lay down,] she told him.

[You have something. In your side.] Came his blunt reply.

[I can't pull it out. I've got nothing to seal and cover the wound with. I'll bleed it out otherwise.]

[You're bleeding out already. I can cauterize the wound.]

The gardevoir swallowed, blinking her eyes for a moment. She hadn't actually thought about that. He could produce a hot enough flame to seal her wound, while dealing some immense pain—but as it was a Pokémon move, the damage could be eased by a potion.

[Okay,] she agreed. [Once you do that, keep watch here. I'm gonna go back to the wreck.]

[Back?]

[The backpack. We need it.]

Ares was silent for a moment, before he gave a nod. [This will hurt.]

And it did. It hurt enough that Atena had to refrain from lashing out at Ares with her psychic power. It hurt enough that she thought she might pass out. He'd yanked the bar out of her side, and that had already been painful enough, but then he started blasting searing flames against the wound like a welder with iron. Gardevoir weren't known for vocalizing things. Outwardly, they were extraordinarily silent. But here she screamed like she never had before. When he'd finished on her front, he turned her over to seal the exit wound. It was here that she momentarily lost consciousness, the pain too overwhelming.

When she came to, she found herself seated against the wall, Ares probably having moved her. He'd similarly moved Gray, trying to use whatever counted as cushioning for their trainer to rest on. Atena shook her head, before she looked down at her side. Scarred tissue reflected back at her. Dead skin. It looked hideous. She'd also forgotten about her poncho, which was now nothing but torn and smoking embers. That was a shame. She'd liked it.

She lifted her gaze toward Ares, who was cross-legged on the other side of the dormant campfire. She'd severed their psychic link prenaturally when she'd blacked out, so she made sure to establish it again, noticing the cracked pokéball he was holding.

[Ade's okay in there, for now,] she assured.

[It is better that he was not present for that.] Ares said.

Atena agreed. The pup would either have gotten in the way or been traumatized at her screams. She felt at both sides of her wound. No nerve endings. She couldn't feel anything there.

[Thank you.]

[It had to be done,] Ares replied. [Are you prepared to collect the bag?]

[I think so...] Atena slowly rose to her feet, nearly stumbling as a painful reminder shot up her leg. It was still fractured in places. [In and out. That's it. And if I don't come back-]

[You'll come back.]

[If I don't...] Atena asserted. [Don't wait for me, and don't let him know where I went.]

Ares didn't reply to that, simply continuing to stare down at Ade's ball in his hand.

Atena figured she'd better get this out of the way now, as opposed to later. She just hoped she would come back...

There was always a brief moment, fleeting really, of disorientation after teleporting. It was like being pulled out of a deep sleep and being forced to reconcile with reality, though on a much more rapid scale. The gardevoir blinked as she appeared behind the gondola building, looking about to make sure she hadn't been seen. Once sure she was in the clear, she started to make her way toward the crash site.

What happened since they'd left? Had Clair, Lance, and Gray's father been successful in acquiring Lex? Or had Striker won? Smoke still lifted into the air, but the echoing sounds of battle had disappeared. In fact, it was a little too quiet for the small city. It was a little unnerving.

Atena finally reached the wreckage, which thankfully wasn't getting swarmed, probably because of the damage all over. It wasn't exactly a priority. She began to sift through the wreckage, trying to seek out the bag, but was turning up nothing.

She was about to give up, when a voice behind her drew her attention.

"You're Gray's gardevoir, right?"

She turned on a dime, and locked eyes with the piercing gaze of an old man. Not as old as Striker, but his hardened features were accentuated with a rather stylish beard, accompanied with plenty of hair pulled back. It was impossible to not know who this was. It was Lance. The master of dragon-type Pokémon.

She stared back for a moment, unsure of what to do, or how to respond, but Lance was quicker than her. "He's alive?"

She gave a slow nod.

"Good," Lance sighed. "I guess you're looking for this, then."

He held up a bag, which she recognized immediately. She'd been so floored by Lance that she hadn't even noticed he'd been holding it until now. She gave a quicker nod.

"Lex mentioned he gave you something. Can I have it, since Gray doesn't want to be part of this?"

So it did seem that they'd been successful in retrieving Lex. However, she wasn't keen on relinquishing the map. Not yet, at least. She shook her head.

Lance raised a brow. "No? How come? We must have it. Without it, we can't fight back. Do you really wish for our way of life to crumble beneath Rinsik?"

She shook her head again.

"Then I must have it."

A third shake.

Lance seemed to grow a little annoyed as his gaze hardened. "Very well. I don't know your motive, but Gray's father is adamant that he joins the fight. If that is your plan, then I support it. Just don't take too long... we can't hold out forever."

Atena nodded in agreement. Somewhat satisfied, Lance bowed to her in departure, gave her the bag, before he turned and walked away. If Lance was alive, and apparently Gray's father was, as well as Lex, then it was possible Clair lived as well. Maybe they'd taken down Striker after she had taken her family and escaped. Or maybe they'd fought to a stalemate. She hadn't seen Striker in action fully, just the tail end of his brutality, but she was under the impression that even Lance, Clair, and Gray's father could have successfully beaten him. In fact... she didn't think Striker had even used all three of his Pokémon. Just that metagross. Of course, there was the implication that Striker had been involved with Gray's father in some way, years back. He knew Gray as a kid. There was a lot there she still wasn't sure of.

Checking the bag to make sure everything was fine within, Atena then teleported back to the Ice Path once satisfied.

Once returned, she found not much had changed. Ares nodded to her in greeting. Seidon stood guard at the door. Runa was lying on her side, letting the still-unconscious Gray use her belly like a pillow, probably Ares's idea, as Runa would probably never do that otherwise.

Atena held up the bag, showing it off to Ares, before she dropped it and sifted through it, procuring a couple potions, one she gave to the blaziken, the other she sprayed herself with. The effects were slow, but near immediate. She could feel a lot of her pain dispersing, and her burnt flesh was replaced fully with scar tissue, leaving her with two large and somewhat hideous scars on either side of her body. Her leg was feeling a lot better, but the fractures remained. She'd need to keep off her feet as much as possible (which wasn't too hard, since she typically hovered constantly anyway) to let the fractures recover.

She dug through the bag, locating the first-aid kit within, and set to work on Gray, crushing antibiotics and sloshing them with water down his throat, once propping his head up. She then set out to clean his wounds and bandage them as best as she could. Once satisfied she'd done all she could, the gardevoir rested his head upon his bag (Runa had since stalked off). Ares had settled himself in a corner and was sleeping, his pose that of meditating.

Atena laid down beside Gray, staring at him for several long moments, before she raised her hand to once again caress his face, her fingers drifting between bandages and flesh. She pursed her lips, worried about him. About his state, and about how safe they were here. Gray had told Striker that they'd spent a lot of their time in recent months in the Ice Path. He wasn't the type of guy to not follow up on something like that, if he'd survived the events in Blackthorn.

Where they'd flee to, however, Atena wasn't sure. She and Gray could decide once he woke.

She leaned into him, placing her forehead against his as her hand drifted down, finding his own, and softly grasping it. Hopefully, he'd wake soon. She didn't want to intrude on his dreams again, especially with the intent to pull him back into the conscious realm, but she'd have to if Striker came after them. She wanted Gray to rest and heal for now.

Atena pulled her head back, and placed a gentle kiss upon Gray's forehead.

[I love you,] she passed her words into his mind. Despite his messed up face, she could see his lips twitch. What looked like a small smile had formed. She rested her forehead against his again, closing her eyes, knowing she needed to get some sleep, too.

If luck would have it, they could begin devising a new course of action once they woke.