[Originally completed December 18th, 2019. Published December 28th, 2019.]
Chapter 9: Stone in the River
A splitting headache ripped through Mathew's cranium once again. He tried to remember where he was and what he had been doing, but he drew blanks. His unfocused vision refused to cooperate. He tried coming to his knees, but all he could do was fall and hit the dirt with his cracked mask.
The cubone laid there for a moment, trying desperately to regain his bearings. Eventually, his body started to work with him again. He saw Jermy laying in the grass as well, and all around them, the remnants of their projects. He remembered now - he, Jermy, and ORB had worked into the night on preparing Jermy's shield concept. They must have fallen asleep during a break of theirs.
Speaking of the shield…
Mathew looked upon their handiwork, lying in the grass colored yellow with paint, as he tried standing up again. The makeshift shield was the most homemade, low-budget idea they could make at the time. Their first moments consisted of desperately searching for materials. Fortunately, they managed to receive an object perfect for the shield: a trash can lid offered by a kind pokémon whose base had rolled away in an unexpectedly rough storm the previous year. After that, Mathew had found a small merchant in town who offered some spray paint, so it wouldn't be as obvious it was literally just a trash can lid. Jermy had suggested the colors and shape: "Let's color it all yellow, like the sun, but put a red spiral swirl in the middle!" Mathew didn't have to guess what the inspiration for the swirl stemmed from.
"What are you going to name it?" He remembered asking him.
"I've been thinking about that. I think I'm gonna call it… Fanga Solen!"
Mathew had been confused. "Where did that come from?"
"It's Swedish! I had some family over there."
"Huh."
"Yeah. 'Fanga' means capture, like what it's gonna do when it's done, and 'Solen' means sun, like where the design comes from. So, 'Fanga Solen' means 'Catch the Sun!'"
Mathew was fully awake now; he stood in front of the pikachu, a disabled ORB, Fanga Solen, and the shambling hotel a short distance away. The sun shined down all of them, providing its gift of sight but not its gift of warmth. The cubone felt a cold breeze run against his back, spitting the warmth of Kalmwa'er he was accustomed to in his face. He puffed smoke into the air in response, a tiny flame that was stomped out in the wind as if it was doused with water.
"Ugh… Morning…" Jermy mumbled. He, too, was a bit groggy, though nowhere close to the dizziness on Mathew's own end. "How'd you sleep…?"
"I'll be honest…" Mathew stretched his arms. "Like shit."
"Ouch." Jermy rolled onto his rear and reached for ORB.
"GOOD MORNING, NERDS," it said, flickering to life.
"Morning, ORB…" Mathew yawned, still stretching. "Guess I'm feeling a little… stiff today. Heh."
Jermy scrunched up his face. "Was that an attempt at a robot pun, or…"
"Uh, yeah. Of course I told a-" Mathew paused, both in words and in movement. "Oh my God, when's the last time I made a pun?"
"Mathew, I literally haven't heard you make a pun, ever…" Jermy stood up.
"CAN CONFIRM. NO DATABANKS OF PUN-BASED HUMOR ARE PRESENT," ORB said. "THEN AGAIN, I DO DAILY CLEANUPS OF GARBAGE IN MY DATABANKS."
"ORB, that sounds like a very trashy lifestyle."
Jermy groaned. "Mathew, no… That's literally the easiest pun you could've made out of 'trashy'..."
The cubone shrugged. "I mean, I never said my puns were hard."
"WOW, YOU MISSED AT LEAST FOUR THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED NINETY THREE POTENTIAL FOLLOW-UP PUNS. TRY HARDER NEXT TIME." ORB quipped.
"I need to do this more often."
"Please don't," Jermy remarked.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE I AGREE WITH HIM."
"I'm a bit late on this, but you made a pun or two yesterday." Meowth suddenly joined in their conversation. He rubbed his eyes, seemingly not-yet adjusted to the rising sun.
"Oh, good morning, Meowth," Jermy said, welcoming him to the conversation. "Thanks for letting us sleep out here, it was kinda nice. It was way better than those nests."
"Remind me to look at the nests before we pay for them, then," Meowth remarked.
"Makes sense," Mathew said. "But man, I really need to get myself back on track."
"Speaking of getting on track, I'm getting kinda hungry," Jermy said.
"Oh!" Mathew had a realization. "I just remembered that I'm a responsible adult. I can cook!"
"You can cook?" Jermy asked.
"I'd like to say that I can."
"MATHEW, THAT CLAIM IS AROUND THIRTY ONE PERCENT REASSURING. THAT'S LOW."
"Regardless of confidence, this sounds like a good idea," Meowth said. "Let's wake Joey to tell him about it."
After storing away Mathew and Jermy's projects, the three reentered the hotel and returned to the room where Joey still slept. He snored loudly, fueling their desire to wake him. Jermy walked up to him and-
"Wait," Mathew said. Jermy refrained from touching Joey, heeding Mathew's command. "I have a better idea." Immediately, the cubone began rummaging in Meowth's bag. He carried his emulation system up to Joey and set it down. Then, he got out a pair of headphones and gently, carefully set them around the sides of the totodile's head. He hooked them up to the machine.
"Mathew, what are you-" Jermy stopped speaking. Mathew already had the game selected in the menu. Its title was clear: CrazyBus.
"YOU WOULDN'T," ORB said.
"I would!" Mathew quietly exclaimed in a declaration of both malicion and hilarity. He opened the game, a devilish smile on his face.
That smile turned into a frown as the totodile's mouth slid open.
BEEPBEEPBOOPBOOPBOOPBEEPBOOPBEEPBOOPBOOP
"AAAAAAAAHHH!" Mathew screamed in horror as the mangled, horrifying audio of the game's main menu burst through Joey's maw like a speaker.
"OH, GOD!" Jermy wailed as he clenched his ear in his hands. "IT HUUUURTS!"
To both of the humans' surprise, a high-pitched scream of unheard of magnitudes spilled from Meowth's mouth. "MAKE IT STOOOOOP!"
And that was the exact moment when Joey woke up. With Joey's groan, the sound of the video game returned to the headphones from which they came. "Ah! What am I listening to?!" he exclaimed, taking the headphones off.
Instant relief came amongst the three, sighing in pleasure at the silence. Slowly, small chucklings came amongst the two human victims.
"Please don't make me shout like that again," Meowth said sternly, clearly not humored. "I don't like raising my voice."
"No, please do!" Mathew jested. "Ugh…" The cubone held his cracked mask with his hand. "That gave me a headache."
Jermy shook his head. "I never thought I'd hear the sound of Toad on helium come out of Meowth. But CrazyBus…CrazyBus did it."
"I went through vocal training to make it like this. I don't want to look back."
"...What just happened?" Joey asked.
"QUESTIONABLE PHYSICS," ORB answered.
"...What."
"Well, apparently totodiles can act as speakers if we put headphones on them," Jermy said. "So you started blasting."
Joey shook his head. "Weird…"
"Anyways, good morning," Meowth said. "Mathew offered to fix breakfast."
"Oh, cool! You can cook?!" Joey whirled around to look at the cubone.
"Yeah!" Mathew said. "Just come outside with us. I already know what I'm gonna fix."
Joey watched from the window as Mathew doused the fire under his makeshift grill with water from the river nearby. He slid them onto four cheap plates and brought them into the hotel, setting them in front of each seat. After going back to disassemble the basic setup, Mathew sat down next to him.
Joey looked down at his food and grimaced. He prodded at the charred steak with his plastic fork, gently pushing it across his plate.
"I could've sworn you liked meat," Mathew said, a slight agitation ringing in his voice.
He was right - the totodile didn't doubt that he'd enjoy the meal. The smell of a freshly cooked and savory steak felt nice and familiar to him, even if he couldn't remember how. Yet his mind wasn't focused on that, he felt the spindly hands of insecurity caress his head. They held on tight, allowing the rest to reach his ear and whisper. Why can't YOU do cool things? Why can't YOU be helpful? Even HE did it.
Joey groaned before finally giving a response. "It's nothing." He said before finally stabbing into his food. The savory taste was a nice distraction, at least until the meal was gone.
"Joey, are you feeling alright?" Mathew asked.
"Y'all don't worry. I'm fine." Joey pushed his cleansed plate away, and leaned back in his chair. He noticed that the others weren't even halfway through their own meals. He clearly saw the deep concern in their eyes. The tension was wrangling him.
"...So, what's up next on the death journey?" Thankfully it was Jermy who spoke up, bringing the stark end to their focus on the totodile.
A sense of relief washed over the totodile with the change in topic. "Uh, who has the map?" he responded, trying to keep talks away from himself.
Meowth looked at Joey, confused. "What map?"
Jermy sighed. "All those preparations in Kalmwa'er..."
"Weren't you the one who bought most of the stuff while we were at the library?" Mathew lightly accused.
"Wait, you went to a library!" Jermy said. "Mathew, you know a library probably has maps, right?"
"...I was at the libary, too…" Joey said under his breath.
"It doesn't matter," Meowth said. "We came here under hearsay, so we didn't need a map."
"Hearsay, huh? Hmm…" Suddenly, Mathew stood up and turned over to the one other person in the room. "HEY DEDENNE-GUY?!"
"YEAH?!"
"WHAT'S BETWEEN HERE AND ARBOR?!"
"WHICH WAY IS ARBOR?"
"North," Meowth chimed in, barely audible compared to Mathew.
"I THINK THERE'S A CANYON OR SOMETHING!"
"OKAY THANKS!" Mathew sat back down.
Joey nodded. "I guess we're going to Acaneon..."
"He said 'a canyon,'" Meowth said. "As in, one canyon." He took a bite out of his food. "He's probably talking about Labre Canyon. I've heard of it before. I think Abis talked about it with Zell a few times; he wanted to check out some ruins on the north end, or something."
"Some ruins, huh? I've never been to ruins before. That could be interesting, as long as we don't get into any more trouble." Mathew responded.
"By trouble, you mean 'brutally murdered,' right?" said Jermy.
"Uh, that's one way to put it, but I prefer to call it 'unwanted life removal.'"
"So my dad?" Meowth chimed in.
No reply.
Meowth refused to look at anything but his food. "Sorry. I'm not the best with jokes."
Mathew seemed to recall a happier time when Meowth actually had been funny. "Uh… 'Meow'?"
Meowth shook his head. "No, that wasn't the joke. The punchline was the absurdity of Mathew being a fish and, logically as a cat, me wanting to consume him."
"Okay, now I get what you mean when you say you're not funny," Jermy said.
ORB added on to Jermy's statement: "MEOWTH'S HUMOR RATE IS CURRENTLY TWO PERCENT. THAT'S THE SAME PERCENTAGE OF HOW MUCH YOUR FATHER CARES FOR YOU."
Mathew shoved his seat away from the table. "Okay, that's probably enough. It's starting to not be funny. Let's just get out of here."
The group cleaned their mess and proceeded to depart from the rickety hotel. With one last look, they departed the small village that had granted them safety for just the night, letting both be basked in the sun. Several minutes and several paces passed until they suddenly escalated up what seemed like a tall hill covering both sides of the growing stream, which turned out to be the stone-ridden gateway to the top of the canyon.
"I'm gonna go ahead and get ORB to examine the area. Y'know, so we don't have any more General Watchogs?" Jermy stated.
"Go for it," Mathew replied.
Jermy and ORB hurried ahead until they were out of sight. Mathew, Joey, and Meowth walked close by the steep cliffs, peering at the sides which bore many reddish brown and gray layers of sediment from ages long past. These slivers of time should've been forgotten, buried out of memory, and yet they still slid and stuck out of the wall, majestic like the spitting image of waves overtaking waves but vulnerable like the touch of condensation overtaking glass. The riverbed far below weaved through this history, this vision, cutting it down into nothing in light of its own narrative.
Joey looked outwards at this canyon in admiration and pondered his thoughts and desires of preserving it. He, too, struggled to bury what had been covered by time.
The totodile couldn't help but think about the Misery Woods incident. Every non-human of the Pick-it Up Club had tried their best to reassure him, build him up, state that it wasn't his fault. But he kept thinking about the time Jermy had scolded the both of them. After time had passed, Joey was now certain that the pikachu was completely right; what he had done was pointless, brash, and downright stupid. As thankful as he was for Groov's calm and understanding attitude, he wondered now if he really deserved to have Politoed and Breloom forgive him, much less Mathew.
Yet, despite having come to terms with the reality of his failure, he couldn't help himself but reflect on that instance in his life constantly. He understood that it was pointless; it had simply come and gone, like a sheet of paper rushed by the wind along the ground. Meditating on it had no purpose, but he did it anyways, still seeking the answer to the question. Was it because, due to his lack of memories, it was the first notable event to happen in his new life? Joey didn't think so - he still knew of his playful fantasies of the Old West, even if he couldn't recall how he founded them, so there definitely was a joy left in him from his older life that should counter these kinds of depressing reactions. There was something else he felt that kept his mind on things.
"Admiring the rocks?"
"Uh!" Joey sounded - Mathew had caught him staring. He scrambled to find a way to excuse his musings, fearing what the unstable cubone would do if he knew how much his punch was still moving him. "...Yeah. Reminds me of cowboys, sorta."
Mathew chuckled - the nostalgia Joey had given him outweighed the oddity of his comparison between a cliffside and cattle wranglers. "Seems like some things don't change, do they?"
"Well, do they need to?" Joey asked, still trying to find a footing in the topic he made.
"Nah. Cowboys and the Old West are awesome. Anyone who can manage so much responsibility all alone like that has my respect, no questions asked."
Joey didn't reply, opting to wallow for a few seconds in Mathew's contradictory belief.
"I'm guessing this is something from Earth," Meowth interjected.
"Oh yeah, you don't know what cowboys are," Mathew realized aloud.
Joey's childish innocence was fueled by the addition of Meowth, which gave him the chance to finally ground himself in the subject and away from the truth. "I'll tell him," he said intensely. The totodile spent the next few minutes excitedly explaining everything he knew on the history of the cowboy - from the western expansion of America to the inhabiting of arid lands to the rise of a unique culture. He finished on the note of being immortalized thanks to media such as television and movies.
"Dude, it's incredible you know all that," Mathew said, in awe at Joey's description. "Have you considered getting a history major?"
"Nuh-uh," Joey replied. "History majoring ain't a path for good jobs."
Mathew made a short nod. "Fair. Is that something Catherine taught you? It's not really Greg's thing to not have faith that everything will work out."
Joey grimaced. In Mathew's pleasant moment of recollection, he had forgotten about his inhibitor. "...I dunno."
Mathew opened his mouth, but a second's delay came before any sound when the realization hit him. "Oh, you're right." The cubone sighed, and Joey knew he was returning to his headspace where his suffering lived. "...I miss Greg. I haven't seen him in a hell of a long time."
"Was Greg a friend to you, or did your family know him as well?" Meowth asked. Joey realized that they were no longer talking about Catherine, and it was clear who of the two Mathew cared about most. The intelligence behind Meowth's question was fascinating to somebody like Joey, who had yet to see his approach during real therapy sessions.
"Oh, we all love Greg, he's awesome!" Mathew exclaimed, successfully being pulled out of sadness by Meowth for the moment. "He just seems to 'get' life, you know? He's basically enlightened, despite never really caring about God. The guy is a huge prodigy, too - he could do just about anything if he was driven enough. The problem is that not a lot of things actually motivate him."
"Do you know what kind of things act as motivation for Greg?" Meowth asked. Joey could tell how easily Meowth was goading Mathew into talking; progress was being made in front of his eyes.
"There were a few things, but above everything else?" He moved his eyes from Meowth to Joey. "You and Catherine - his family. He did everything he could to help you live a happy life. That's why… That's why he moved away. He wanted to take you to Phoenix, over in Arizona. It's one of the cities with mock-temperatures, so you'd be able to have a happier adolescence."
Joey was tempted to ask Mathew what mock-temperatures were. However, before he said anything, his eyes were drawn to Meowth's judging stare. Joey felt as though the cat was pressuring him, somehow. The totodile quickly realized what he wanted. With Joey being Mathew's focus, he was now in control of the conversation, and it was up to him to get Mathew to tell Meowth the information he had been digging out. He had to think fast; what does Meowth want? Family, he had asked about Mathew's family in relation to Greg. Maybe he could…
"Is that why I stopped showing up in your family's scrapbook?"
Meowth's eyes were still focused on him. He needed more.
"And not...because of...something that happened to you guys?"
Meowth nodded slightly. Joey blinked, hoping the therapist understood.
"Oh, no, you guys still visited from time to time and we got pictures then. That all stopped after Laura—" Instantly, Mathew's nostalgic journey vanished into the air. "Oh, dammit. Dammit. DAMMIT."
Joey grimaced as he watched Mathew rattle his poor cracked mask with his fist.
"NOW I'M THINKING ABOUT IT!" he shouted in frustration.
"No!" Meowth put his hand on Mathew, stopping the walk. "This is good. You're making progress towards desensitizing the problem."
"BUT - I…" Mathew, in his irrationality, seemed to search for something to yell about. "WE'RE NOT EVEN IN A SESSION! You can't just do that!"
"Working on your behavior outside of sessions is the best method for improvement," Meowth swiftly objected. "If you're angry, you should walk away for a moment and come back. Then come talk to us again."
As Mathew took a few steps away from them to blow off steam, Joey realized how much the two could relate. While the totodile had no trauma to deal with, he certainly did have a point in his life he strained himself to fixate upon. Watching Mathew suffer so loudly and so painfully in such a similar fashion gave him the chance to continue self-reflection upon his own behavior. Once more, the question filled his mind: Why am I still so upset about Misery Woods?
The cubone shuffled back to them. "You're right. It's a good thing…" Mathew stated in a blur between acceptance and defeat.
Joey, drifting out of the conversation, continued to study Mathew. Not three days ago had the cubone told him how much fighting sucked and he hated it, but now that his eyes were aimed at the hope of finding the mysterious D.E, he was fully willing to accept the burden. Joey wondered if, on some level, Mathew was hopefully wishing D.E. would be able to end his pain and fears, giving him salvation after whatever had happened to him. Joey could only hope that D.E. could deliver on Mathew's promises once the two crossed paths.
They continued walking, derailing their conversation onto calmer questions after the emotional peak, such as the quality of the weather, their likes and dislikes of Vahle Village, and the difficulty of the potential dungeon pokémon beyond.
"Hey guys!"
Mathew, Meowth, and Joey's eyes were guided in the direction of Jermy, approaching the group again with ORB in his arms. Their feet stopped to gather around.
"Did you get the place searched?" Mathew asked.
"Yep!" Jermy said. "ORB, give it to 'em."
"OKAY. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO PROJECT IT?"
"We don't have anything to project it on…"
"WE COULD USE YOUR STOMACH. THAT'S WIDE ENOUGH TO PROJECT A WHOLE CINEMA ON-"
"ORB, please just...don't." Joey was taken aback when it was Mathew who replied to ORB.
"Huh?" Jermy said, seemingly also surprised. "This isn't even the worst joke ORB's made."
"Yeah, I know, but I just want to hear what kind of crap we're going to have to deal with in this dungeon," Mathew replied, sounding miffed.
"OOOO...KAAAAY. THERE…ARE...THREE-"
"Oh my God, can you take this seriously for once?"
Joey started to worry. This didn't sound like a very positive conversation…
"I AM NOT PROGRAMMED TO DO SO, DINGUS," ORB replied.
"Yeah, but why?! Yeah, sure, it's funny to chuckle at Jermy every once in a while. But every time you try to say something you're such a...fucking asshole!"
Jermy swung his cradled creation away from Mathew, glaring at the cubone angrily. "Hey!" He paused for a second, as if looking for a retort. "...That's not a very cool thing to say."
"Actually, for that matter…" Mathew's tone marked a shift in the conversation to an attack that the totodile feared. "He's a robot! Didn't you program him this way?"
"Well, yeah. That's how engineering works."
"Didn't you say he's the 'Observational Rotating Buddy'? What the hell kind of buddy is this?!"
Jermy's face slid from defensive anger to accepting sadness. "Sorry."
"Answer the question!"
"PLEASE, YELL LOUDER," ORB quipped. "THAT WILL DEFINITELY MAKE HIM RESPOND."
"YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" Mathew exclaimed. "Why is he mean? What kind of plan led to this thing? Are they meant to draw people away?!"
"I'm sorry!" Jermy repeated, more pained this time.
"Stop!" Joey exclaimed, shoving in between the two. He faced Mathew angrily. "You know, it's not cool to yell at people like that."
"Thanks for stepping in," Meowth stated to Joey. He moved to speak to Mathew. "I know we have a lot to stress about, but that doesn't justify getting so angry."
The cubone took a moment to just stare at Meowth, doing naught but exhalation. Then, he grimaced in a quieter frustration. "Shit. This isn't how I meant to come off at all. I really thought I was doing better…" Mathew turned his attention to Jermy, sliding his head around Joey to see him. "I'm sorry. I only asked because I'm worried about you-"
"It's...okay." Jermy stared down Mathew with reserved, sorrowful eyes. "I get why you're upset. ORB can be mean at times. It's just…" Jermy began to set ORB down, making an excuse to stop looking at Mathew. "I can't say."
Joey joined in the conversation. "Hang on, Jermy. Didn't you see when Mathew and I tried opening up? We've turned out a little better since."
"Yes, I was there for that. Joey, as much as your sales pitch is endearing, that's not really how it works." Jermy was, at least, willing to aim his eyes upon Joey in that moment. The totodile felt as though the pikachu was almost sagely, and for the first time, it was Jermy whose pivotal moment was clearly concealed.
Meowth stepped in. "Jermy, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. I just want you to know that I am always open." Joey felt reassured by Meowth's statement towards Jermy; passion or not, his low voice was gentle enough to calm and his spirit kindred enough to comfort.
Jermy nodded. "Thanks. I'll let you know if I can talk about it."
"SO NOW CAN WE GET THIS SHOW BACK ON THE ROAD?" ORB asked.
"Yeah, let's do that," Mathew replied. "Before I freak out a third time…"
They returned to the drowning silence from which they had surfaced, continuing their silent walk towards Arbor and the unknown depths beyond.
But the feelings didn't subside.
Joey should've been comforted by that conversation; Mathew was able to resolve his conflict without punching anybody, Jermy admitted ORB's faults, and Meowth presented his kindness. But, he felt...alone? No. Dejected. That's the word. He watched as the group escalated into chaos and he could do nothing. He watched as Meowth helped everyone's problems and he could do nothing. He watched as Mathew, after everything he had done in hopes of making him happy, still rage and fume and he could do nothing.
That was the answer he was looking for. Why Misery Woods still pricked his heart like the wood splinters of a destroyed playground… It was evidence of his futility. Without memories, skill, intelligence, or foresight, he wasn't able to contribute anything to this team. He failed, was failing, and will fail. The answer flooded his mind, covering the way forward, clouding his vision, blinding—
And the trap was triggered.
A violent burst of wind launched him into the air. The totodile's helpless body was flung across the air, a speedy bullet of a fiend's creating…sailing right over the cliff and joining the forgotten walls.
"OH FUCK!" he heard Mathew scream. The cubone bolted towards the edge and held his head over it, laying down stomach-first. "ARE YOU OKAY?!" he shouted, his voice breaking in shock and fear as Jermy and Meowth joined him.
To the others' relief, Joey's angle did not fire them far enough to actually careen into the deadly riverbed below. Instead, he found himself landing upon a protrusion jutting out of the cliff.
"Oww..." Joey groaned in pain, laying down. "I-I'm sorry."
"UNDERSTANDABLE APOLOGY." ORB said, past the cliff. "THAT PRESSURE PLATE TRAP WAS PRETTY OBVIOUS, JUTTING OUT OF THE GROUND LIKE THAT. YOU CAN TELL ONLY THREE-"
"This is not the time for that, ORB!" the pikachu exclaimed as he moved to shut him off.
"Mathew," Meowth then said. "Can you look at the remains of the trap Joey just triggered?"
"Um… Will he be-"
"Yes, he won't fall if you look away for a few seconds. Calm down. If he stays still, he's not going to die."
Mathew puffed air as he stood back up. Joey couldn't tell if it was a sigh or a heave of relief. "Keep an eye on him!" he exclaimed as he rushed away. "Okay, from the looks of it, you pressed some kind of pressure plate or something," he explained loudly. "I think there's some footprints in these leaves…" Mathew's steps grew ever quieter.
"You go do that," Meowth muttered. Joey didn't have to guess why he sent away their unstable friend. With Mathew preoccupied, the two got to work on rescuing him.
"Let me test something." Meowth reached into his bag, and out came the emergency kit. From it, the cat produced a rope. Holding one end, he gave it a mighty throw down and-
Not a chance. It wasn't even close to Joey's hand.
"Thought as much," Meowth remarked as he coiled it back up.
"Well that's annoying," Jermy said. "Why is it so short?"
"It's not supposed to be used for climbing," Meowth responded, shoving it back into the kit. "It's supposed to be tied around limbs. It'll keep us together if we have to stay a night in a Mystery Dungeon."
"Couldn't you have gotten a rope that does both?"
"It wouldn't fit in this kit." Meowth held it up with both paws to emphasize its smallness.
"Hey, guys…" Mathew's voice came back into Joey's range of sound - but those weren't his footsteps. "We might have a problem!"
"Oh, shoot!" Jermy exclaimed. He and Meowth suddenly left the cliff, confronting some kind of newcomer. However, they too stopped moving, based on the footsteps Joey could hear. They were surrounded - and judging by Mathew's lack of footsteps, it sounds like they were large and strong enough to pick them up.
"Well, well, well? Look who we have here~"
A feminine voice came from atop the cliff - the pokemon burst past the edge. It had a pink exterior and yellow eyes; the jagged blades of grass on its head spun like propeller blades, suspending it in midair; and a yellow star that matched her eyes was painted onto her forehead. The hoppip descended to Joey's level, hovering just out of reach. "Aww, poor thing. You messed up, and now your whole group's fallen right into our real trap. How sad~"
Joey grimaced. She was right. He failed fantastically - again. And this time, Mathew shouldered none of the blame.
"So you're the three who set that trap!" Jermy exclaimed.
"Yeah-huh, that'd be us," a deep male voice on the right responded. "Hoppip gets credit for the setup though."
"Aww, thanks~!" Hoppip blushed.
"Don't. Move." Loud footsteps marked the approach of the two others. Joey turned around to see two new faces emerge at the top of the cliff: a dark blue shark-like dragon with a star on his forehead on the left and a gigantic crab with another star on his forehead on the right.
"Well, this is a fine-looking totodile!" the crab said.
"Yeah, Crawdaunt." Garchomp looked down at him skeptically. "Though he doesn't look like he has much on 'em…" He turned away. "Nor do they."
There was a tense pause as the three looked upon the group, completely helpless with Joey in such a vulnerable position. The hoppip made a "Hmmmm…" sound as she gawked at him.
"Now wait just a minute!" Crawdaunt exclaimed. He pointed one of his large claws towards one of the three at the top of the cliff. "That wouldn't happen to be a Dwelling Bag, would it?"
"I didn't realize they had a name," Meowth responded.
"Well that's just hilarious!" Garchomp said. The two left Joey alone. "You own such a rare item and you don't even know its name?"
"Something like that would be better in our hands~" Hoppip quipped.
"Now I see what you're here for!" The totodile could hear Mathew struggle. "You want to rob us in exchange for saving Joey from the trap you set!"
"Yeah," Crawdaunt said. "It might be in your best interest to comply."
"And what's keeping us from fighting you instead?" Joey asked.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you~" Suddenly, Hoppip puffed up and sent some kind of powder into the air. The wind picked it up and carried it down the canyon, but Joey could clearly see the color: purple.
"Yeah, Hoppip can put a time limit on your buddy's life here," Garchomp explained. "Your choice - him or the Dwelling Bag."
Joey's heart sank. The terms were clear. Mathew, Jermy, and Meowth had a choice to make. They either lost their Dwelling Bag, Mathew's machines like the Wormhole Wristlet, Jermy's shield, Meowth's emergency kit… Their livelihoods… Or they lost him, a failure whose only benefit was playing a part in Mathew's story - a part he can't even remember.
Joey knew what they were going to pick and hated it.
"Fine," Meowth said. "Take it. But give us Joey back first."
The totodile looked down into the river far below. If he was thrown into it right now, would he even be remembered? Would he sink into its waters and never be noticed? Wouldn't the others carry on about their lives? Sure, they'd cry for him out of mourning - but they could still keep going. Mathew had Meowth. Jermy had ORB, in a strange sense. And if he was gone, they could keep the Dwelling Bag and everything within.
"Come on, kid. We don't have all day. We put the cubone back - you're all that's left here."
Garchomp's rope hit the dirt.
Joey turned towards it. Something within him cried out, staring at that string to escape. In that moment, he refused the questions he had just asked himself. He didn't want to be nothing more than a pebble in a pond - a tone in the sediment. He yearned to be more.
The memories of Misery Woods stood before him. A tale that ended in a spectacular flame and a momentus strike… He had failed, then. However, in all its disastrous shortcomings, it would've been a better end to his story than falling into nothing.
Joey knew then that he had to subside his fear of loss and destruction. He thought back to when he had successfully pushed Mathew into accepting therapy, and when he and Minccino had returned home with satchels filled with waste extracted from the woods. He wouldn't be a failure forever if he just tried.
The totodile boiled with courage. He climbed the rope, unwrapped his Grasso, and put himself to the test once more.
"Hoppip! I wanna do a one-on-one fight. Winner gets the bag!"
Shock flooded both his friends and the star-studded theives. Joey had his eyes aimed intensely at the poisonous thing, now hovering over the mere ground instead of precariously above the canyon.
"No! Don't, please!" Mathew yelled, almost into his ears.
Jermy, cradling the one object he got to keep in this deal, approached Joey. "Joey, buddy, I appreciate the offer, but it's literally just some stuff. Your life's way more important."
"It's your stuff!" Joey exclaimed. "They have no right to take it, my life in danger or not."
"Please..." Mathew begged. "What if you lose?"
"Of course I'm gonna lose. But I'd rather lose like this than go out doing nothing. Then maybe you'll be encouraged to fight for others, too…"
"Alright, alright, alright, make some room!" Crawdaunt swatted Mathew, Jermy, and Meowth away, making an imaginary fighting ring for him and Hoppip.
Garchomp clutched the bag on the other side. "This should be fun to watch…" he muttered.
Behind them, ORB was flickered on. Jermy's voice came from behind Joey: "ORB, I need statistics on this battle."
"DO YOU WANT THE BAD NEWS, OR THE BAD NEWS?"
"The good news, ORB!" Jermy shook ORB around like an 8-ball. "Will Joey win against Hoppip?"
"BETTER NOT TELL YOU NOW."
Joey shook his head, drowning out ORB - he knew what he was getting into.
"Are you suuure you don't want to just call this all off for your own safety?" Hoppip asked tauntingly. "Because, if your fighting skills are as good as your observational skills, you probably won't be around long enough to tell your friends goodbye~"
Joey readied his stance. "I'm gonna give this all I have."
"Kick her ass, Joey!" Mathew exclaimed. Joey could hear the strain of fear in his voice, but the support was enough to move him forward. The totodile gave out a hard battle cry as he whipped Hoppip with the Grasso. She yelped in pain.
"Hoppip! Show this kid what you're made of!" Crawdaunt shouted behind him. Hoppip was moved to lunge in for a tackle. The totodile was slammed in the maw, falling over. He climbed back to his feet, only to be blasted by some kind of powder of orange color. Joey stumbled back and immediately felt the repercussions - his left arm was numb.
"THIS IS THE PROBLEM," ORB explained. "STUN SPORE IS GOING TO RENDER HIM NUMB IF HOPPIP GETS HIM WITH IT ENOUGH. JOEY'S WATER GUN ISN'T STRONG ENOUGH TO HOLD HER BACK, NOR IS HIS SPEED WITH THE GRASSO FAST ENOUGH. UNLESS SOMETHING AGAINST THE NATURE OF A DUEL HAPPENS RIGHT NOW, JOEY IS COMPLETELY SCREWED."
Knowing there was nothing he could do about it, Joey ignored ORB's concerns. He fired water from his mouth at Hoppip.
"Hey, that kinda tickles~" Hoppip jested as the water bounced off of her like nothing. "This is nice after waiting in the hot sun for a few hours!"
"Joey, no!" Mathew shouted.
Joey couldn't do anything about it. Hoppip fired more of the spores at him. Out went his left leg… then his right. He was on the ground now. Desperately, he flung the Grasso forward with his last limb, but another set of spores rendered him useless.
"Aw, man…" Garchomp said. "This is lame. You could've kept him throwing punches for at least a little while longer so it'd be worth risking our loot."
Hoppip shrugged. "Eh. His fault for not having any heal seeds."
"You stole our heal seeds," Meowth reminded them.
"Oh yeah, we did~"
Joey stared uselessly at the dirt, his head laid to the side away from his friends. This didn't come as a surprise to him; he was still new to this world and she was experienced. The odds were always against him; despite that, he felt a tranquility for at least trying, rather than letting his friends' livelihoods slip down the stream like abandoned waste.
Hoppip lowered herself to the ground to meet his eyes. "Well, this battle's definitely over. Thanks for the brawl, it was fun~!" Hoppip exclaimed. "We'll be taking our prize n-"
Hoppip paused. Something - someone hit the ground. A whimper. He was crying?
"Oh, relax…" she interjected. "It's not like I'm gonna kill him or anything. Geez. I barely even scratched him up."
"Mathew!" Joey heard shuffling - Jermy? Meowth? One or both of them was tending to Mathew.
Mathew. It was Mathew. Joey had caused it again - the cubone was breaking down. What had he done to him this time? He hadn't put anybody in danger but himself.
"Y'know what? Who cares," she said, trying to shrug Mathew off. "He's not in the duel." She refocused on Joey, but spoke to the person behind them. "Garchomp, still have the bag safe?"
A pause.
"...Garchomp?"
She turned around and gasped.
"GARCHOMP!"
Joey could barely make out what was happening behind her. A newcomer had obviously overcome Garchomp with silent grace...but who? Joey could only make out somebody green. They glowed? No. Something on them glowed.
That thing moved. "Catch!" A voice shouted. It was feminine, he could tell, but deeper than one would expect, and a bit scratchy at that. She flung an object in the air - Meowth's Dwelling Bag. One of them caught it, out of view.
"Arrrgh! How'd they find us?!" Hoppip fumed. She left Joey's side.
Crawdaunt began to panic. "Crap, crap, crap, crap!"
Loud footsteps barrelled into the scene. A leap and a grunt, and Crawdaunt was locked in combat.
Joey was now filling with excitement. Some kind of group had come to their rescue and he couldn't even see them! He struggled against his limp limbs to no avail.
In front of the totodile, Hoppip stood still from fright. Both of her allies were engaged with threats far more mighty than Joey - there was nothing she could do.
Fortunately, there was another to confront her, too.
Joey could make out more of this one when he leapt into view. He was a blue quadruped with black hooves, resembling a stag. He couldn't see up high enough to look at his face, but something blue clearly glowed atop it.
"You have to be kidding…" Hoppip muttered.
"Duping pokemon weaker than yourselves is no laughing matter." His voice exuded authority.
"Come on!" she exclaimed. "He was the one picking the fight."
"Do you truly believe our resolve can be so easily lock-picked? We're well-aware of the presentation of an unfair deal. Your triggered trap is within view, even." He glanced at Joey. "Thank Arceus for this one's cry. Had he not made such a noise, we likely would never have found you."
As the realization dawned upon him, Joey began to fill with hope. It was true that he was not strong enough to win, but the efforts he made, the fight he fought, had won them a chance rescue. His efforts weren't in vain. He wasn't a stone in the river.
"Alright. Fine." Hoppip raised back into the air. "Let's dance."
Just as Hoppip readied herself, a third figure hopped into the conversation. He was a pale yellow with dark blue hooves and a puffy tail. The colt-like pokemon tailed the blue stag.
"Handle him," the stag said, indicating towards Joey.
"Gotcha!" The colt turned away and approached the totodile.
The stag lowered into a combat-ready position, showing Joey his full face. His sides had large yellow horns with bends like the thunderbolts of Zeus. Out of his forehead sprouted a glowing blue matter in the shape of a sword. His eyes, matching the hue of the horns, were intense with determination.
Likewise, once the colt reached him, he brought his own face down to his level and tilted it a bit to lock eyes. Unlike the stag, the colt's blue eyes were gentle and conveyed reassurance, and his wide smile gave him a much more boyish look. He, too, had a sword-like appendage, glowing a bright yellow like the sun, but it dissipated right in front of him. In its place (or rather within the sword all along) was a blue horn that reminded Joey of a unicorn. Now the totodile could see his gigantic head of red hair for a mane, topped with three dyed strands of blue, green, and orange.
"So, what'd you think?" the colt asked him. "Don't we make cool entrances or what?"
Joey tried to reply, but his numbed maw couldn't move.
"Oh, yeah, paralyzed, right," he mumbled in realization.
Meowth's voice a short distance away cut into the one-sided conversation: "Please, bring him over here."
"Sure, I can do that!" The colt tried to slip himself under Joey. A moment later, the totodile found himself laid atop his back, his still face against the distant but ever-present sun. The colt paced away from the sounds of fighting and laid down. He slid off into a sitting position, lying against the colt; and there was Mathew, sitting right in front of him. His cracked mask was stained with tears. Jermy and Meowth stood around them.
Joey fought to speak and finally, finally made noise. "S...orr...y."
Mathew looked at him defeatedly. "Joey… Why do you always have to do this?"
"I...don't...want...to...be...use...less. I...have...to...try."
"I get it. I get it…" Mathew's eyes teared up. "But why does that always mean risking your life? Why do you have to do that and make me so…"
Joey grimaced. In the likeness of a father, Mathew took pain from Joey's risks, feared his safety, mourned his wounds. He would rather have him be that stone in the river, if it protected him.
"Th...anks…" Joey would always be appreciative of how much Mathew cared; but it couldn't stop the truth. He pushed to tell him. "But…it's my life…can't I choose how to throw it…?"
Mathew blinked and released his watery eyes. Even still, he nodded. Joey was on a path Mathew would struggle to follow; the cubone feared danger, while the totodile willed himself to face it. No matter the strength of their resolve, their paths were crossed now. The two had struggled to get along, and certainly they would find themselves at odds in the future. But, through it all, they could still rely on each other to see their faults and make themselves stronger.
And they were okay with that.