"Out of the tree of life I just picked me a plum
You came along and everything started to hum
Still, it's a real good bet, the best is yet to come"
—"The Best is Yet to Come" from Duets: An American Classic" by Tony Bennett featuring Diana Krall

In all of her available memory, Max had never gone to a doctor for a checkup. She still wasn't, not really, but waiting outside Neb's door for the courage to knock tickled a few memories just out of her paw's reach. It terrified her to think about it, but she couldn't deny that her condition had to have gotten worse. She'd never flipped like that, so fast she didn't even notice.

She tried to remember what Jones had told her, that she'd beat it sooner or later, and that was her only solace. Someday, somehow, she'd be back to normal. Hopefully Neb could tell her how long it usually took. All that remained was a simple knock.

"I don't think she's in at the moment," Neb said from a few feet behind him (a basket of groceries floating by her side).

Max shot up and away and shouted, "CHU—ka! Chu!" A moment of anger didn't last against the fear. At first, from having Neb sneak up on her like that, and now because she'd slipped. Was she going to slip again? She clutched her bracelet while shivering. "Ch-chu ka pichu piii chuu." Could she see Neb?

"Whoah, girl, what's wrong?" Neb asked. Max shrunk into herself a bit and shook her head. A few attempts to talk immediately fell flat. "Hey, hey, it's all right. Come on in, okay?" Neb carefully went around to her side and started nudging her towards the door. It opened itself, and Max followed along with one forepaw on her bracelet and the other on her scarf, glad Neb wasn't scolding her for walking upright.

Neb led her to the center of the room and tried to get her to sit down there. Though she knew it wasn't, the entire room felt massive to Max. Already, millions upon billions of ways some vicious monster could pounce on her from anywhere ran through her mind.

"C-chu," she whimpered, shaking her head. "Pi chuu pi pi." Even if she couldn't really understand, Neb had gotten pretty accustomed to interpreting Max after all their time together. It also helped that Max was shivering like she was in a snowstorm while shaking her head and backing away from the center of the room.

"Okay, hey, it's okay," Neb cooed. An apple floated in front of Max. She struggled to make herself let go of her scarf and grab it. Neb's mouth twisted down. "I don't think I've ever seen you hesitate for an apple like that."

Max shrunk into herself a bit more. It must be worse than she thought. She couldn't bring herself to bite the apple, but she held it against her mouth at least. With a few hesitant steps, she started towards the wall but stopped when Neb wasn't following her. She couldn't even bring herself to look back or beckon her. All she could manage was to freeze and hope. Could she move? Her paws, had they—could she feel them?

When Neb's leg brushed up against her, Max felt her own hindpaws touching the ground. "I'm here, girl, I gotcha," Neb cooed.

Max took a deep breath and nodded. "Ka chu," she whispered in thanks. She was at least pretty sure Neb could get that one by now. With careful, slow steps forward and a lot of soft encouragement from Neb, she made her way to the wall and curled up against it. There wasn't room for Neb to curl behind her like usual, so she just sat next to her.

Silence: Max could practically taste it when she breathed in. Feeling Neb next to her, their asynchronous breathing, and the barely audible whooshing of wind outside. It wasn't music, but it was nice. Some gentle rustling and clinking joined the soundscape from the other side of the room; Neb was preparing to make some tea.

Already, Max could smell the steam even though the kettle didn't have water yet. Neb had an incredible talent for brewing it, and Max had plenty of it in the months they'd lived together (after Neb got her to start using cups—otherwise, she would've had a much more dangerous version of the ice cream incident). The simple joy helped her calm down as she pulled in another refreshing breath and curled up into Neb.

"Feeling better?" Neb asked. Still unsure if she could talk, Max nodded and nuzzled bit more into Neb to hide a flinch. "Sorry for scaring you, earlier." Neb reciprocated the nuzzle by leaning in as well. It was nice, but it was also making it harder for Max to hide her face. "What's wrong?" Neb readjusted to wrap herself around Max such that they could talk face to face.

Max was terrible at hiding that she was hiding something, wasn't she?

At least she could bundle up into Neb a bit more, now. Already, Max could feel the creeping terror returning. If she could regress, how bad could she get? Could she even stop it before—but she couldn't let herself dwell on them.

"I'm getting worse," she forced out while she still could.

Neb lifted a paw to start rubbing it down Max's back. "You mean with Dungeon sickness?" Max nodded. Her back arched to meet the pets more. The motion felt familiar, she'd probably done it plenty of times before while thinking nothing of it. Knowing why she did it, though, made her terrified it was a sign. "Did something happen?"

Too afraid to try talking, Max nodded and accidentally bumped her muzzle into the apple. Maybe eating it would help (as if she ever needed a reason to eat an apple). She started to nibble timid bites off it and tried to focus on the flavor, texture, crunch to distract herself. It helped more than she'd expected. Her bites steadily grew more ambitious until she finally bit a proper chunk out of it, squirting some all over her nose.

A chuckle from Neb preceded a napkin floating over to dab at the mess. The beginnings of a smile started tugging at Max's lips. "Thank you," she whispered, getting a nod back. A few more bites to be sure she was okay, and she readied herself. "I blacked out." Admitting it aloud still chilled her, so she took another bite.

"Not in a dungeon," Max went on. "At the gym. I had an argument with Cori, and then I just." She shook her head and took a few more bites, confidence waning back down to nibbles. "I didn't even know I had. One moment I was talking to Cori, the next I was in a blanket with a stranger standing next to me." She wished she still had that blanket now.

Hearing her wish, the kettle started to sing as the water announced its readiness. It wasn't a blanket, but it would do.

Neb started rubbing her back with a paw to comfort her while looking over to the tea set. "I'm listening, don't worry," she said. Even though it was only a few months ago, Max felt a bit of nostalgia for the many times before that Neb had done the same thing. It was comforting.

"It's never happened like that before," Max said. "I can always feel it coming. If it's a Dungeon, I can hear my instincts before they get there. The only times It's happened outside of one, I…." A tint of shame turned her gaze down. "I definitely expected it." Neb's paw kept petting at her with intermittent, soft scratches here and there. Max felt a bit of pride that Neb hadn't run into any tangles so far, and that little boost helped her push forward.

"It has to be me getting worse," Max said. She tried to focus on the apple, but it was barely more than a core. "Is this a relapse? Wh-what if I keep regressing? How can I stop it if I don't even know when it'll happen?" Neb started to press a bit firmer with her pets, but Max was too lost in her fears to notice. "How bad can I get? Can I—what if I—Cori, you, Eleos, I—" Neb tried to quiet her, but Max couldn't stop herself. "Am I going to lose it all again?"

Neb shook her good shoulder to snap her out of it. "No," she said. Max recoiled away and started burrowing deeper into Neb's fur. "That's not what's happening, all right?" It sounded too good to be true, so Max curled in on herself tighter. The apple didn't have any meat left. She suckled on the core.

Neb started rubbing the worried mouse's head (careful to avoid the styled 'hair' on top) and gave her a moment to calm down. The kettle popped open and dumped its contents into a teapot that opened just in time. Various herbs and leaves flew out of bags that sealed themselves after and into a metal steeper, with a few playful swirls along the way.

The fun little flourishes always gave Max a pleasant distraction, and they worked just as well after so many times. There was something mesmerizing about watching the synchrony play out. The steeper capped itself and plunked into the tea pot, and the lid returned to its place, all in one fluid dance.

As it floated over, Max could already smell the chill of mint and a sweet hint of apple and straw wafting with the steam out of the spout. She pulled the thoroughly suckled apple out of her mouth and threw it away to breathe the waxing scent in deeper. It calmed her a bit more, and Neb helped it along by stroking a paw down her back.

"You aren't getting any worse, don't worry," Neb softly said. "How bad was the argument?" Max didn't answer, but she didn't have to; she looked away and shrunk down at the thought of it, and Neb nodded with understanding. "You were upset. It crept up on you while you weren't paying attention. It happens, all right? Nothing to be so worried about."

With no qualifications to supersede Neb's, Max shook her head. It still sounded too easy. She didn't have any reason to doubt, but she still felt like she had to. The steam's aroma continued to grow stronger, though, and pulled her out of her own head. The warm steam carried the chill of the mint so well.

"All right," Max said. If it really was too good to be true, she'd hold it over Neb's head until the end of time… if she could remember. Still, she tried to hold onto hope, even if she only had blind faith. She'd already put some blind faith in recovery, anyway. That promise Jones gave her, that she'd 'beat it' somehow. It cheered her up as much as it soured her mood. "How long until I'm better?"

Neb had started pouring their tea and quirked a brow. She tilted her head at Max when she floated the teacup over to ask, "What do you mean?" Max tried to take the cup for a sip when the still too hot to drink tea floated out of her reach. "Some girls never learn."

Max rolled her eyes and chuckled, certain Neb had purposefully tempted her. "I mean, like, better," Max said. The answer did nothing to change Neb's expression. "When will I stop having to deal with this? Stop having to worry about going feral. When am I going to be normal again?" Neb's blank confusion faded away, and regret took its place. Max felt a pit growing in her stomach.

"Oh, Max," Neb said slowly, carefully. "That's not exactly what recovery for this looks like." The little bit of hope Max had mustered up started to wilt. "You'll get better, much better, like you already have, and it will get easier for you to deal with. Maybe someday you'll have days you forget about it entirely."

Neb gave her a soft, empathetic smile that twisted the knife further when she delivered the final blow: "But this isn't ever going to go away.

"You'll always be a little… different, because of it."

Max sat perfectly still, teacup in her paws. She watched the stray bits of leaves that had made their way out of the steeper swirl around in her cup. They danced along her reflection, the image she'd known for so long. Even if she forgot them, every year, friend, and strife left its mark on her. One or two scars she didn't remember the wounds of; time that she'd lost but weathered her nonetheless.

"Oh," she mumbled. She put the tea down. It didn't look all that appealing anymore. "I see." A tear slid down her muzzle and into the cup, and she saw the image distort and ripple until it was unrecognizable. "I'll always be that close to losing it all."

"Max, no," Neb said, yanking her into a hug. The teacup flew out of the way just in time. "You've been making incredible progress." Max stayed completely limp in her hold. "Being more susceptible to Dungeon exposure doesn't mean you'll black out. It just means you have to be a bit more careful." A few whimpers shook their way through her. Neb pulled her in tighter. "You're doing so well, okay?"

"I still slip every day," Max said, shaking her head. "I blacked out today, I would've two days ago if it wasn't for Eleos! A week ago, I couldn't talk for a day because of a dream!"

"Max—"

"This is just my life, now?!" Max screamed. "Can't get too emotional or I become a wild fucking animal?!" If she could bring her eyes up to Neb, she'd probably stare to dare her to answer. She couldn't. Her eyes landed wherever they landed, obscured by a blur of purple fur.

Neb didn't try to answer yet, either. She hugged Max tighter but stayed silent to give Max the space to scream whatever else she needed to. Max didn't have anything else to say, though. She'd never even thought about 'curing' herself until today. Maybe she'd always assumed it was possible, or maybe it'd never occurred to her.

Once the silence ran its course, and it was clear Max could only voice her own sobs, Neb said, "I'm sorry." She squeezed Max tighter for a second. "I thought you knew it was chronic. Pokémon grow up learning about it." So, Jones really was just an idiot. A nice idiot, at least.

With another squeeze, Neb nestled Max into her side and brought the tea up to her paws. It was still warm. Holding the cup accentuated the chill in her chest. Max took a sip, the cold mint nearly overpowering the chamomile's sweet hints of apple and straw. It tasted nice, still warm, and went down easily, but she couldn't pull any comfort out of it. Another drink of many.

"You're not a wild animal," Neb said. Max tried to glare, but only managed to look at her. "It doesn't change who you are. It doesn't make you any less of a person than anyone else." Neb nudged the teacup back up to Max's lips with a paw. "You're still you. You'll always be you."

"But, I…," Max whimpered. She couldn't think of what to say, what she even wanted to say. She just hurt. Another sip flowed its way down her throat. After a few more, she ever so slowly started to feel the warmth soothing her weary heart. It all still hurt, but more and more she could get breath in her lungs. She could still feel the cup, her fur. Her flesh was flesh, and her blood was warm.

"What's never going away?" she asked with more resolve than she had. If this was her life now, she wanted to know what it held in store.

Neb shook her head. She traced a paw along the side of Max's face and said, "I can't tell you. It depends on the person." Max looked up with pleading eyes—something, she needed something—, but Neb's expression stayed the same. "Some instincts stay, others leave, and others come and go with the seasons. Emotions might bring them out, they might not."

Every nonspecific generalization twisted the knife in Max's chest. She shook her head while more tears dripped from her muzzle, only pausing for more sips of tea. She couldn't even bring herself to look up when Neb rested a paw on her shoulder.

"I meant it when I said you've made a lot of progress," Neb said, rubbing Max's shoulder. "You were upset, but you didn't slip just now, and you blacked out earlier today." At least Max could still see Neb's warm smile while staring at the tea. "You're probably the most severe case I've ever seen, and look at how far you've come!" Max rolled her eyes.

"I mean it," Neb chuckled. "When we met, you couldn't talk, ate like a vacuum, couldn't remember any part of your life except your name, and you were like that for weeks." She sent her paw to Max's chin to make her look up, but Max shook her head out of the hold. As Max sent her gaze back down, though, she saw a playful glint in Neb's eye. "You don't still try to snack on soap while I'm not looking, do you?"

It was meant for levity, but it just made Max angrier. "Great, I can do basic shit everyone else can," she said.

"I know it sounds trivial," Neb said. "But it's a lot of progress, especially for how long you must've been in there." Max finally had the energy to leer at her. Neb didn't flinch in the slightest. "Think of how much more progress you'll make, now."

Max opened her mouth to shoot out an objection, but she lost whatever she wanted to say when she processed what Neb said. How long had it been since that day she woke up in Neb's house? How long had she been living in Dungeons? She'd had to relearn so much, and she had. She was even managing to fight against blacking out at the top of Mount Steel.

The teapot came to refill her cup. Max wasn't thirsty enough yet, so she cozied the warmth up to her chest. All the time they'd spent together remained crystal clear in her mind. Maybe she couldn't recall every moment of every day, or even most moments from most days, but every moment of warmth had nestled its place into her heart. The stories she'd told Sam, the 'swimming' lessons with Cori, the… everything with Neb, and all the odd tangents with Eleos.

"You're even beginning to remember your past," Neb said. Her paw went back to Max's shoulder, and Max managed to glance up at her this time. "I was honestly a bit worried you might not." That felt like it should've terrified Max, but with Neb's warm smile, it was somehow encouraging. "There's not a cure, but you're so much better."

Max breathed the tea in, though it didn't have as much steam coming up anymore. "Yeah," she whispered. The slightest smile pulled at her lips, and then it had to fight the weight of remembering her old partner.

She still couldn't remember his name anymore. Had he gotten her letter? It wasn't in that secret compartment in her bag anymore, but she had no idea when Mew had taken it. She hadn't checked for it until this morning, so he could've taken it in any of the last few days. Without hearing back at all, she hoped it was only because her partner hadn't gotten it yet.

Still, the fear that Mew had delivered it the next night, or even that day after she'd talked to him, she had to wonder if it was even worth it. She doubted her partner would ever want to hear from her again. Was the letter even for him?

Max grabbed her heels with her forepaws and curled them up into herself. Neb adjusted fluidly, like a practiced dance, and helped her ball up while giving comforting pats along the way. Max nodded in appreciation. The more she thought about it, could she have ever gone back to normal? She'd already scorned the people… person closest to her since she'd arrived in this world.

Maybe changing into someone else was a mercy in disguise; if she couldn't return to where she came from, it felt right that she couldn't be who she used to be, either.

He was gone. Her partner was gone. Even if Mew got a message back to her, she'd never see her partner again. She wanted to let go, leave it behind, but that felt like the same mistake that started all of this. The more time she spent with Cori, Eleos, Neb, with every time any of them made her smile, laugh, cry, she longed for the memories she'd lost more.

What had she lost?

"Let it out," Neb whispered. Her paw gently ran down Max's back with some pats to accompany the more intense sobs. Max hadn't even realized she'd begun to cry. "I'm sorry. I wish I had a better answer for you."

The sting milked a deeper sob out of Max. Would she ever know, or would ghosts of a past she'd never remember haunt her for the rest of her life? How much had she lost—and how much of it was gone forever? It ate her from the inside out. Her sorrow cannibalized itself into impotent regret until she felt next to nothing at all.

Like some perverse resolve, though, it pushed her forward. As the pain numbed itself, she felt it holding her back less and less. Her sobs didn't end, but they slowed enough for her to speak. "My memory," she whimpered. Hearing her voice crack, she tried to dig deeper into that numbing forgery of resolve, but its reserves had nowhere near enough for the task at paw. "How much of it is gone forever?"

Neb gave the same regretful smile from earlier. Of course she didn't have an answer. "No one's memory is perfect," Neb said. "You'll remember more, possibly even a lot more, but it's up to you."

Max looked up at her with a bit of confusion. This was hopeful—maybe the most hopeful answer she'd gotten so far. More, she could recover more! She could get it back! So why did Neb have regret in her eyes? Max almost wanted to jump from joy until the final part, 'it's up to you,' finally registered. This was the good news, then. The bad news was next; Neb already knew it was a solution Max didn't want to hear.

"Some will return on its own like it already has," Neb said, watching Max with care. Max watched her with silent trepidation, unable to brace herself for the oncoming storm. "From everyone I've treated, among those severe enough to have sustained amnesia, the bulk of their memories start to come back once they return to their old lives."

Max whimpered and curled in on herself tighter. Hopeless.

When she tried to completely curl in on herself, to shut it all out, Neb nudged her muzzle under Max's chin and slowly coaxed her out. "I don't know what happened, and I know it's scary," Neb said. Without anything else to hang on to, Max listened to every word in desperate need of whatever comfort they brought. "It might not change the world. It might not change anything. But I'm sure you knew more people than just your partner."

Neb intercepted Max's wince with a gentle nuzzle and wormed her way right up next to Max's ear. "Even if you can't make amends," she whispered, "maybe you can make some things right." Neb nuzzled Max's cheek more as she pulled back, even squishing a few little sparks out.

Once Neb pulled back enough to look at her, Max found her own gaze drawn to Neb's. Her eyes went to Neb's of their own volition to show the absolute certainty in what Neb couldn't possibly know for certain. Max didn't even know what all she'd done, who all she'd hurt, yet Neb treated this like a foregone conclusion. Of all its baffling hubris, though, the most compelling part of it all was how it began to spread.

Every terrible doubt ran in Max's head unfettered by this promise. Max couldn't get the worries out of her heart, but even still, she felt something deeper pushing against them. It wasn't hope—she couldn't bring herself to believe in the best—but she felt she could accept whatever came. She realized it was the same feeling that came from writing that letter to her partner.

"Can you remember anyone else?" Neb asked. The light prod felt like a productive distraction.

It didn't take long for someone to come to Max's mind. She could even remember his name. She couldn't remember her partner's, yet somehow, that zangoose stuck with her. "Goon," Max said. A morbid smile crossed her lips with a dark chuckle. "And the only thing I remember about him is that he hated me."

An empathetic wince scrunched Neb's face as the espeon shook her head. She couldn't manage a chuckle like Max, but she could almost manage a pained smile. "Your luck never changes, does it?" she asked.

Max shook her head with another somber chuckle. As she thought about it, though, she felt a little rebuttal build its place in her heart. "I don't know," Max said. She slowly uncurled from herself and leaned back into Neb's fur. The sorrow and pain sloughed off her smile. "Between Cori, Eleos and you…." She paused, not sure if she could say what she wanted. Neb saying it was one thing, but saying it herself?

Max shrugged. Fuck it. "I'm a pretty lucky girl."

Neb's smile grew in tandem with hers. "A pretty sweet girl, too," Neb said with a mischievous glint that only grew when flustered sparks bounced from Max's cheeks. "And a cute girl." Max started shrinking in on herself again, but her smile only grew. Neb leaned in to nuzzle her, at least that's what it seemed. In reality, she only did that to hide the paw primed to poke Max's belly so that, by the time Max noticed, it was already too late. "And a bit of a chubby girl, too."

"Pika!" Max chuckled and forcibly shoved Neb's muzzle and paw away. She couldn't bring herself to care about the slip once Neb started laughing, because then, Max had no choice but to laugh along with her. Of course it would end in laughter. Didn't it always?

It inevitably died down, leaving a healing peace in its wake. Max brought her tail up front so she had something to hug as another silence accompanied them.

"Does it feel right, then?" Neb asked. It broke the silence too soon for Max's tastes, but that was fine. Max could mourn its early passing by responding with silent confusion since she didn't really understand the question. Neb chuckled and shook her head. "Being a girl, I mean."

Already, Max felt a rebuttal on her tongue and sparks bouncing off her cheeks. "I-I don't know," she mumbled. She hugged her tail tighter and felt a sliver of pain when its blunt edge jabbed into her arm. "Being called a girl is a far cry from being one." Her smile faded. "I wish I could, but," she gave a mournful look to her tail, "no one would buy it."

Neb's smile softened to respect Max's mourning, but didn't seem to lose any strength. "You could always transition," Neb offered. Max tilted her head and looked at Neb with one ear raised, getting a soft paw running down her back in return. "It's not unheard of. In fact, it's a pretty simple process."

"B-becoming a girl?" Max asked. She knew the pokémon world was different, but this sounded far fetched. "I don't, are you sure? That sounds a bit. I mean, there are certain, um, well, parts that. I feel. You can't just change."

Neb covered her mouth to hide a chuckle, clearly understanding what Max couldn't bring herself to say. "Actually, there are procedures that can do exactly that," she explained.

Max winced. No, she couldn't do that. Even if she wished she could be a girl, that was a step too far. "W-well, so, I'm actually… fond of… those certain parts of myself," she mumbled. "S-so, I wouldn't. Want to lose." Just thinking of it made her stomach turn.

Even still, Neb's comforting pats continued. "Well, you don't have to if you don't want to, either," Neb said. Max could feel her heart starting to race. If this was possible—but did she really want to?—she was running out of reasons not to, and that terrified her. As she started to tip over into full panic, Neb tugged her into a hug. "Don't worry. It's just something to think about, okay?"

Max gasped at the touch but quickly leaned into it to squeeze back. A breath. "Okay," she whispered. She squeezed Neb a bit tighter and started to run it through her head. Even if it was really possible, how could she know if it's what she really wanted? Was there any going back? It could go completely wrong, might not even be what she wanted, and she could ruin her life on a whim. She had to dismiss it, had to let it go.

Yet, even with every worst case scenario that came to mind, she couldn't deny its draw. "Has that… has anyone really done that before?" Max asked.

"Plenty," Neb said. "You wouldn't be the first, and you certainly won't be the last."

That wording made Max gulp. "W-won't?" she whimpered.

Neb chuckled and shook her head. "Sorry, wouldn't," she said. Max felt her ears droop down. That correction should've made her feel better. Now, though, she missed the lack of certainty. She wished Neb could just tell her what she wanted. Neb grabbed her attention back with a firm head pat. "It's a big decision. I just wanted to let you know it's an option."

"Thanks," Max mumbled. Evidently, Neb missed the actual problem here, but she couldn't really be blamed for it, either.

"If you wanted to test the waters, you could let Cori and Eleos in on it," Neb said.

Max recoiled away, though she didn't release the hug. "W-well, Cori already knows," she mumbled, praying Neb wouldn't press her on how that happened. "Eleos, though, I don't know." She gave another squeeze, then finally pushed out of the hug. "I don't want to ruin what we have on a whim like this." Her shoulder had been wrapped for a bit long at this point, so she started unwrapping it as an excuse to obscure her face.

Meanwhile, Neb eyed her suspiciously. "What do you have?" she asked, making Max freeze a bit. "You love it, right?"

"Of course," Max said. "I wouldn't date it if I didn't." Despite her best efforts, her mind wandered back to that conversation with Eleos earlier that day. After all that, here she was giving her own logical proof of how she should feel.

Without looking up, she could feel the concerned look Neb gave her. "What do you love about it?" Neb asked.

This was starting to feel like an interrogation Max wasn't ready for. "Well, you know, a lot," Max mumbled. Her claws started poking through the fabric of her bandage, which reminded her she was trying to unwrap it. "Holding paws, kissing, the pet names, you know, being in love." It felt unconvincing, but then again, why did she have to convince Neb of anything?

Convinced or not, Neb moved on. "Well, how would being a girl change any of that?" she asked. Max's eyes wandered across the floor as she let the bandage drop behind her to pick it up on the other side. "You should feel comfortable being yourself around the people you love."

"R-right, well, what if it's not who I am?" Max countered. She unwrapped the rest of the second layer and then tossed the bandage back over her shoulder. As the pressure released, she didn't feel much more than a dull soreness. It was almost completely healed. "What if it's just, I don't know, a… phase?" She shook her head. "What if, after a bit, I realize I really am a just a guy—," imagining that nearly made her whimper, "—and I end up just going back to normal."

"What if?" Neb asked with a chuckle that Max didn't super appreciate. "If it doesn't mind the first time, it probably won't mind the second time, either."

"I just don't want to, all right?" Max snapped. The rest of the wrapping fell, so she started rolling it up. Once she'd bundled it all up, she turned to start testing her shoulder. It had most of its range of movement back, if a bit sore approaching the outer edges. She felt more pain from the shard of guilt in her chest she got for barking at Neb like that. "Sorry."

"I understand," Neb said. "I'm sorry. This is a lot, and I shouldn't be pushing it all on you at once." She flushed slightly and looked down. "Or pushing it on you at all."

Max crossed her arms and looked away, growling, "It's fine, I'm used to everything happening at once."

Hearing that, Neb's regret deepened her frown. "Right," she said. "And your day wasn't the best before you got here, either." She looked up with an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

Max's frown pulled into a scowl. "It's how it always happens," she grumbled. "Every day has another catastrophe I have to tend to. If anything, I'm lucky if it's only one." The strain of her complaints shifted her growls into whimpers by the end. She brought up her paws to rub the tiredness out of her eyes. She had to get ready to move, too. She mewled out a wordless whine and flopped back to lay down.

What a long day. Was it really just one?

"Now, I have to get ready move, too," she sighed. "Because apparently, Jake did all of that to recruit me for what looks like the world's next apocalypse." Her paws stayed over her eyes while she shook her head. "Cori'll need help moving, too, because their parents fucking suck." She flopped her arms down to the ground and stared at the ceiling.

The half-empty tea cup nudged its way into her paw while Neb helped her sit back up with a paw. "Why not try taking a break?" Neb suggested. "Did this new job have an urgent start time?"

Max squinted one eye and glanced up in thought. "I… don't know?" she said with a shrug. She took a breath and caught a whiff of the tea, deciding she might as well take a sip. Somehow, it was still warm. Neb must've added some from the pot.

"Well, if it turns out you don't have a deadline," Neb said. "I think you could definitely use a break." She glanced the chu over with a mix of amazement and pity. "Even if they do try to give you a deadline, you could always say that you're still not healed from that fight with Jake."

The idea sounded more and more appealing. "Yeah," Max said. She took another sip of her tea, then let out a wistful sigh. "If I could have just one day." It felt like a fantasy in her mind. She let the idea run free, but a hint of doubt crept in, and she shook her head. "I feel like something would end up going wrong no matter what."

"Oh, come on," Neb chuckled. "I'll bet Cori and Eleos would appreciate some fun, too."

Despite Max's misgivings, a smile started to creep its way across her lips. "Maybe," she mused. "What would we even do?" As ideas rolled around in her head, she drank what remained of the tea.

Neb ran a paw over Max's head and scratched behind her ears. "It doesn't matter all that much," she said. "It's just some time to rest. Whatever you do, I'm sure it'll be rejuvenating." She gave a parting scratch to Max's ears and turned to float the tea set back over to the box it came from.

As the box closed itself up, Max noticed the others for the first time. Many of the minimal belongings Neb had brought were sealed away. Max looked around the room with growing realization and regret until she finally landed back on Neb, who'd watched the realization dawn on her. Neb gave an apologetic shrug and smile and said, "I meant it when I said you're getting better."

"I-no, but…," Max muttered. She wanted to object, but it wouldn't go anywhere. Neb had a life of her own to get back to. Max crumpled into herself again. "I knew you couldn't stick around." Her head stayed facing down, but she glanced up with the most pitiful look in her eyes. "I-I guess," she sniffled and rubbed at her nose with the back of her paw, "I-I just didn't think it'd be so soon." Without any tears coming, she started to rub at her eyes with both paws.

"Max," Neb said, rushing in to pull Max into a hug that Max eagerly returned. "I'm not going to be gone forever." Neb ran her paws down Max's almost motionless form. "We'll stay in touch, I promise, okay?" She tried to pull Max back to look in her eyes but relented when Max tightened her grip.

Max nodded and leaned back in with another loud sniffle. She pulled in closer to Neb's ear with the hug and whispered, "Gotcha."

A harmless marble of psychic energy plunked into the back of Max's skull as Neb stood up and shoved her back. "And here I thought you cared," Neb chuckled with a hint of genuine annoyance. When she looked back at Max, though, the bit of annoyance faded. "Oh, well maybe you do." She gave Max a sad smile.

"What?" Max squeaked, noticing her voice cracked before she heard the slip. Her paw went to her eyes on its own, and she realized that all of her crying hadn't been fake after all. "K-ka, Pi chuuka pika…." A chuckle forced its way out of her throat.

For as much as slipping usually bothered her, she couldn't really care. She'd always assumed it would eventually go away, so it frustrated her to no end that it hadn't yet. Now that she knew it might never leave, though, it somehow managed to lighten the blow. Maybe it was just a part of her, now. Maybe she could get used to it.

Neb nuzzling into her once again interrupted her introspection. Before Max knew it, Neb had pulled her into another hug. "You know, I don't think I say it enough, but I'm proud of you," Neb said. Another whimper squeaked out of Max, and her crying grew into sobs. "You're in a really difficult time, but you're handling it about as well as I think anyone could."

Max squeezed her tighter to try and stop the source of her worsening sobs. She only got a tighter squeeze back. "I guess saving the world forces you to grow up a bit, but still," Neb said, lightly shaking her head. "It's hard to believe you're that same malnourished pikachu I kidnapped out of a dungeon months ago."

The fact Neb had specifically mentioned 'malnourished' gave Max some hope. This was a setup—she was just leading into another fat joke, right? Any second, now, Neb would deliver the punchline, and they could both laugh out of this. Max only needed to hold out for a little bit longer as Neb squeezed more sobs out of her. She knew it.

Yet, the predicted punchline never came. Instead, she felt tears from Neb's muzzle dripping down her back. Neb's sobs accompanied hers as they held each other, and Max realized she wasn't going to escape the moment. Max shook her head in disbelief, then leaned back in to bury herself into Neb's fur.

"I'll miss you," Neb sobbed.

That wrenched more sobs out of Max, and she knew she had no chance of collecting herself enough to reply. She didn't care. "Pi, chu," Max squeaked. Based on how Neb held her tighter as her own sobs got louder, Max knew she understood.