(A/N: Of course I missed yesterday, whatever. It's up to date, now. Still nothing in traffic stats, though it's entirely possible it's not a glitch. Even the chapter breakdown shows nothing for the past four. Guess that means I have my own little void to cry into? No one reads author's notes, anyway. If it turns out to be a glitch, well. This'll be embarrassing, I suppose.
It's disheartening, but not like I can do anything about it. I'm aware this is a very personal story, so I don't really expect any reach. I've gotten some really nice comments on AO3, and that should be enough. Still, this is the site I started out on. It's... tough, I guess. Especially since the part lost to the void is when things are. Are actually turning around for her. That's always a risk when writing hurt & comfort, but I'd expect, like. Maybe one person to stick it out. Maybe I haven't gotten over the self-pity that got me here in the first place, I don't know.
Since it's just me, I guess I can admit that I've always wondered how the people I knew would react to this story. It's not like the parallels are subtle, though I'm always worried that it seems like Max is supposed to be the victim. I want it to be obvious that she's not. She's hurting, but she's in every way still her own antagonist.
Of course, I was always the one to argue for Death of the Author.
Was he just too unlikable for too long? That's the thing about writing broken people. Similar to being a broken person, a broken character isn't always fun to be around. It can hurt to watch them hurt, especially when they seem uninterested in helping themself in any way. Especially especially when they cope with their pain by putting it onto the people they love. Is that why this is hitting me so hard? That's kinda rich.
Maybe you, person who isn't reading this, will find it funny, too. It all started with me pushing people away so I could say they could abandon me. I don't say this in self-pity, but a matter of fact. It was my plan. My exit strategy, if you know what I mean, was to make sure no one would care if I was gone. If I could make pushing me away the right thing to do, I could convince myself they were cruel so I could hate them instead of myself. Maybe that sounds familiar, my non-audience, or maybe I've failed as an author. Like I said, the parallels were never really subtle.
The part that's rich is I'm wondering if I did the same thing with the fic. Maybe I made it too unlikable for too long, telling myself it was an artistic decision, when really it just made everyone hate it. I mean, hell, I'm blaming the website before I'm willing to consider that maybe people just didn't like the story.
I do have favorites, though. I don't know. It's hard to make sense of. I guess it looked like a promising start but didn't go anywhere? Maybe. I've never written something this long before (and it's not even a fourth of the way done). First drafts always have their problems.
And I'm sure an author's note like this doesn't do me any favors.
Still, though. Zero? I'd expect at least some hate readers.
I can't tell if that's absurd enough to justify thinking the site is glitched, or it's still my ego. What do you think, invisible viewer? Do I have to type like that? Sometimes, Eleos feels like as much of a self-insert as Max is intended to be. The doctor who diagnosed me did say that I "sometimes have an archaic way of speaking," so maybe. Of course, any character is a self-insert.
That's what stories are, at least to me. A packaging and giving of the heart to put on display for anyone to see. A horrifying prospect to be seen, but it's better than no one seeing you at all. I guess going through all that effort to make art, only for no one to look, would hurt anyone.
Of course it would. Nobody likes hearing it, but there's a lot of pain involved. I don't say this to guilt anyone not reading this, but it's true. There's pain in putting yourself out there, be it in a story or a comment on one. Everyone wants to be seen, but we're all terrified when people turn to look. It's considered whiny to say it hurts that no one looks, but of course it does. What, do you do this for you and you alone? Then stop posting your drivel and leave the internet to us shameless attention whores, would you?
Yes, yes, I'm amazing in all that I do and gracing any reader with the gift that is art, as we all are, but I have a secret. It's one I'd scarcely tell anyone, so it's a good thing I'm not. I care. A lot. About what people think. I've been through too much pretending I didn't to keep going with that garbage.
Mice are social creatures, and I believe people are, too. It's seen as gauche (which should be spelled with an o, not an a) to ask for reviews, but why are we posting our stories at all? I guess the thinking is that, if you're doing something good enough, people will be moved to review naturally, and aren't those more worth it?
Well, no. Not to me. Also, how self centered can you be?
Authors aren't the only ones terrified that no one cares what others think. I'll bet plenty of readers don't know how much it would mean to an author to get any words at all. "Do they really want to hear from me?" Well, yes, we do. If anyone didn't want comments on their fics, they simply wouldn't publish their fics. If someone is shitty to you about your comment, do two things.
First, verify that you weren't actually an asshole to them, either without realizing you were being one or otherwise. Sometimes, we say something and it hurts someone in a way that we didn't intended. Also, not all artists are looking for criticism, and if they have no idea who you are, they might dismiss any negativity as a matter of defense. I'd love to hear why my story is terrible, but not everyone would, and that doesn't make me better than other authors. Some people don't want to be critiqued. Art is very personal, and that's okay.
Second, after verifying that you weren't actually an asshole, is telling them to delete their story. Were they unaware this website had commenting? I doubt it.
In that sense, I think asking for reviews is just a way of letting nervous readers know that their opinions are valuable to you. Maybe that's not how anyone else thinks, though, but I'm an autistic pikachu in a human's body, so I'm used to people not thinking how I do.
I think that's everything? Maybe? I could mention the coincidence that the cutoff is when Max's transness becomes undeniable, but. Eh? I don't think that'd be it, and I would hope to at least get some hate mail over it. Oh, I did insinuate she has a penis once or twice, is that it? Eh, that seems even less likely, but go ahead and let me know what you think.
Whatever. Keep an eye out for the next special episode, which will be its own standalone fic: PMD: (Another) First Kiss. The chapter that is over 100k words and counting, so I cut it up into probably, like fifteen chapters by the time it's finished.)
"Go chase a dream
Build it and do not set it free
Build it for the whole world to see
Know that there's a reason why: it's your heart"
—"Pretending" from You Will Never Know Why by Sweet Trip
Max traced her paw along the wall of 'her' room. Even after so much time, she knew when to expect almost every odd lump, dent, crack and chip as she circled the perimeter. Back then, she'd expected to some day find an inexplicable aberration. The world around her felt hostile in a way she couldn't put into words. Having a safe, fixed place to rest felt impossible, wrong.
Completing her first lap in so many months, she still felt the same, though it had a different flavor. This room was temporary. Maybe not the room itself, but she knew she couldn't stay in it. Even her house back at the air continent wouldn't last soon. She needed to move.
It was exhausting to think about. She'd spent so much time in recovery trying to believe her eyes when the world wasn't moving around her, only for it to turn when she wasn't looking. At least Dungeons didn't try to trick her. She knew they'd change when she looked away. Outside of them, this semi-permanence just left her more on edge. The ground stayed exactly long enough to surprise her when it disappeared.
She looked closer to her paw than the wall, watching it tremble and trace the perimeter, contorting ever so slightly to match the room's concave curvature. Not even her own body was a constant. She'd always known evolution was an option, but that was always a choice she could make at a later date. With transition, she felt closer to a Dungeon than a person.
Her ankle had, after so much time, healed. It hurt so bad for so long after she woke up that she thought it'd never really get better. Even after it got better, she could feel its weakness if she stayed on it for too long. Ironically, it seems it finally finished healing the rest of the way the week she'd spent alone after finding out about Ithos. She, like the world, was fluid.
Many more changes were sure to come, but that only left her feeling more trapped in this purgatory. She still looked the same as she did before she'd Blacked Out (aside from the pounds lost in the hospital). Her tail was the only dramatic change anyone would notice at a glance.
She still hated looking at her body. The only difference, now, was hope. Hope that it would work, hope that it was true, hope that the years and years of scientific study wouldn't note her as the one exception to all of this. The likelihood was absurd, but she was well experienced in unlikely events. Every dose became a silent prayer of hope that she only hoped God heard.
Hopefully that God still listened to her now that she was a pokémon.
A steady throb started in her chest as her third lap came to a close. It didn't leave her winded, though, so that was promising. Her rib was still broken, but at least she had some more blood. Maybe.
She sat to hopefully give her chest time to calm down. Against her better judgment, she looked down. The bandages squished her pudge noticeably less than the last time she'd had compression there. She had to wonder just how much weight she'd lost, particularly how much of it had been… blood.
She brought her right paw up to her chest. It felt… flat. Of course. It had only been a few days, she was wearing bandages specifically to squish them flat, and on top of it all, she was a pikachu. Surprisingly, she didn't have many girl chu she could think of ever meeting—well, okay, it wasn't that surprising considering her condition—but at least she had Libré.
Libré. Had Libré actually had a paw in helping Max find herself? As if she needed more reasons to be a fan. Was this a weird way to think about a real person? Inspiration is inspiration, but it felt a bit odd. At least she was a pikachu. It'd be a lot weirder to be inspired to transition by Libré if she was still a human.
Max grabbed a paltry pawful of pudge on her would-be lovehandles and frowned. This weight loss oddly made her feel worse about her appearance. She'd never realized it, but her extra chub somehow made her feel a bit more comfortable in her own fur. Without it, her body felt even more alien than usual—and that was quite a feat.
Another throb came to halt her imminent spiral. Resting hadn't helped her chest. Time only seemed to rid her body of the last vestiges of morphine still floating around inside. "Piiika," she groaned. The pain wasn't going away.
She hobbled onto all fours and started for the door. Hopefully, Neb was awake. Max really didn't want to wait much longer for her meds. At least the pain kept her mind off her body.
"Know how to succeed
The problem is time
Better to say you want it all
Not willing to wait
'Cause we all have our due time"
Once again, Max looked longingly through the gaps in the fence to the garden. She had her paws between planks on either side as if holding the bars of a prison cell. So many beautiful flowers to look at just out of her reach. Not that she'd pick them, of course. She'd never pick a flower with a sign explicitly banning such behavior on the very gate blocking her access. Never in her life had she picked even a wild flower.
She sighed out a little whine and let her paws drop. No one else had shown up, so her plan was a bust. She tried not to let it get her down, though. There was plenty more in the town to reminisce with.
After all, the walk there and back was a test, anyway. She'd promised to report back to Neb before going anywhere else. It was the least she could do to prove she was trying to take better care of herself. No, not to prove, to do. She was doing that. It was a new thing she was doing.
"Chuuu," she grumbled in frustration—frustration only growing at the slip. These little tics had gotten significantly more prevalent. She'd hoped they'd wear off after a few days, but the only difference was she could notice them.
Caring about herself took a lot of work. Maybe if she'd started before coming so close to death, she'd have an easier time starting out. Dealing with small problems as they came was much more manageable than trying to revitalize her body, mind, and soul all the time at the same time. If this was the stress she'd put on Neb, she was surprised Neb stuck around as long as she had.
A familiar scent shocked her out of her thoughts. It carried a touch of that noxious, earthy scent. Even though she knew she recognized it beyond the typing, she couldn't focus on any other part. Her tail flew in front of her as she turned to face whoever it was.
"Max! I'm so glad I found you," a marowak said. The yard between them didn't stop Shannon (Sam's mom) from towering high over Max. "I'm so sorry about Sam yesterday. Are you all right?"
Max forced her tail behind her with a hurried nod. She'd never quite gotten used to the marowak like she'd gotten used to Sam, and the Black Out exacerbated it the same way it did her slips. She didn't remember ever managing more than pika-speak around Shan, even.
"Oh, you still can't talk?" Shan asked, suddenly speaking much slower and softer. "That's okay." If Max wasn't so terrified, she'd be insulted. "I saw you at the fence on my way over. Did you want to go inside?" Max nodded. The truth, that she wanted to shock the marowak and run for her life, was a bit harder to communicate. "Here, I'll show you how."
"Kachu," Max thanked. It came out as gibberish, like she'd expected. Maybe Sam's mom would at least recognize she was technically speaking a language.
"Aw, bless your heart," Shan cooed. Max had to suppress a growl. Hopefully, that didn't mean what it did in her time anymore. Sam's mom beckoned Max and headed around the corner to the front gate. Max could only look at the empty space left behind. Her chance to escape—if she could run. Her chest didn't hurt that bad at the moment, but its ever present soreness left her feeling even more helpless.
"Come on, now," Shan called. "I'm not gonna bite."
Before Shan said that, the thought hadn't even crossed Max's mind, and she'd been happy to not have specific visions to fret over. With a single sentence, that comfort left her.
Against her instincts' demands, she forced herself to follow. She needed to get over this, so she needed to do exactly what she'd done to stop seeing Sam as a threat. Spending time with a ground smaller than her was easier than the one three times her height, but she'd have to get over that.
She cautiously peeked her head around the corner and saw Shan patiently waiting next to the gate. Silent, still, even wearing a friendly expression. Shan still had that bone in her paw, though. Instead of imagining the bludgeoning that could do, Max forced herself around the corner while her breath tried its hardest to grow erratic. She could tell herself Shan was safe all she wanted, but her instincts were hard to convince.
"There you go," Shan whispered. She reached out a paw, and Max froze in fear. Shan started lightly ruffling her headfur, but the pleasant sensation didn't stop Max from fearing the worst. "You must've gotten hurt pretty bad. I've never seen you walking on all fours."
Max nodded and took a step back. Petting usually appealed more to her instincts, but apparently not so much when she was in panic mode. Luckily, it seemed Shan didn't see the retreat for what it was.
"Here, ready to learn how to do this?" Shan asked, nodding towards the gate.
"Learn?" Max mumbled. Still not right. Did Shan think she just… didn't know how gates worked? Max rolled back on her hindpaws with an objection ready, but she already knew it wouldn't come out. She shook her head instead.
"Aw, don't worry!" Shan said, a beaming smile apparent from her eyes. "I'm sure you'll get it. You're a smart," she suddenly glanced to Max's tail then back, "girl." At least she noticed. That, or Neb told her. Did word travel fast in this town?
Regardless, Max had to save that thought for later. If she walked over, she could show that she couldn't reach the latch, but that meant walking right up to the marowak she could still imagine having her for lunch. She whined a little in thought while she tried to think up some kind of solution, but she couldn't manage any other ideas.
"Here, just let me show you," Shan said. Without waiting for an answer, she pointed to the latch with her bone—Max kept close watch on her weapon the instant it started moving. "This is what keeps the gate closed, okay?" Max nodded. "Good! Now, all you have to do," she tapped the paddle at the top to show that it moved without moving it enough to release the bar, "Is push this little thing out of the way."
Shan pulled her bone away and looked down expectantly at Max, asking, "Think you can give that a try?" Before Max could answer, Shan had already stepped aside to let her try.
Yet again, Max had her terror to thank for keeping her from incredible anger. She didn't need a gate's latch explained to her, and she certainly didn't need every word to be so frustratingly slow with each enunciation so exaggerated. It was a dance between two of her least favorite emotions.
Max let out a frustrated growl as she stepped over to the gate. It was hard to turn her back to even try to reach for it with Shan so eagerly watching her, but maybe she didn't have to. Max looked back at her while reaching her paw up as high as she could bring it. She tried not to look too frustrated when her paw barely grazed the bottom of the metal. Shan only meant to help, after all.
"Oh, here, use this," Shan said. She instantly sent Max into a panic by flipping her bone and catching its head before extending it toward Max.
Instincts worked faster than her mind: Max spun around to hide her head and smack the bone away with her tail. It didn't hurt quite as much as she'd expected, but that just meant she stayed conscious as the bone flew through the air. Her ears rang. She could tell Shan was talking, but couldn't make out a single word. What started as cowering away from a blow quickly turned to cradling her tail.
She wanted to squeeze her tail against her chest to stop the pain, but a sharp ache in her chest stopped that before it started when she tried. Adding that to the pain already there, she quickly lost what little remained of her senses. The world around her smudged and blurred into vague swatches of shapes and color as she closed her eyes.
"A due date"
When she opened her eyes, Blurry Creature had her tail in its paws. Max didn't quite trust whatever it was doing with that white and red fabric, but she wanted to sleep more than she wanted to complain.
The world had a bit more definition ready for her when she opened her eyes again. She could pretty easily recognize the general shape of a house, even if the contents and colors seemed off. Brown and tan didn't make sense to her aesthetic, but everyone had their own style to pursue.
Her tail, right, it still hurt. Good to know. The pain didn't seem to be going anywhere, so it faded into her background. She could only manage a groan in its honor as she pushed herself up to look around.
"Where the fuck?" she mumbled to the open air. The smell of this place bothered her, but she couldn't tell why. It left her on edge for some reason she couldn't put her paw on. Wherever it was certainly wasn't safe. She needed to get out of there, even if she couldn't think of a reason why.
Doubting she could stand upright, she rolled over and pushed herself up with her arms. Even that proved too much for her. She immediately lost the extra definition in her sight and scrambled up to fall against the wall instead of the floor chest first. The morphine seemed to hold the very worst of the pain at bay, and so the pain turned to insufferable nausea.
The sudden stupor vanished her fear. A vague sense of unease, now, had a pretty obvious explanation, and her senses had dulled to the point that the smell didn't reach her.
Light streamed in from a new opening in the wall. It took Max a second to recognize it as a door since there was another shape within it, and the opening had started closing by the time the shape moved out of the way. She had to focus on it, but she quickly recognized Blurry Creature. She could tell that was incomplete, though. It was on the tip of her tongue.
"Oh good, you're awake," Shan said. Max looked back up at her to confirm. "Well, sort of." Perhaps her unfocused stare wasn't convincing. "Are you all right? Do you need anything?"
"Dizzy," Max mumbled, resting her head in her paw to accentuate the point.
"Wait, what was that?" Shan asked. Her expression shifted, but Max couldn't quite make out what it shifted to while also having to process the words she heard.
After some concentration and thought, she again said, "Dizzy." The ground started to stabilize, though, so her answer was already outdated.
"Well, isn't that something," Shan chuckled. "Sam wasn't making it up. You really can talk." Shan gently tousled Max's headfur. "You're only dizzy, then? You seemed to be in a lot of pain earlier."
"Yeah, I can talk," Max mumbled. She raised a brow against her grimace. Shan not knowing that confounded Max a bit, but she could feel the answer to why plinking around in her head as it spun less and less. She wasn't coherent, not by a long shot, but she was getting there. Looking around the room yielded little more than the blurry landscape around her. "Sam?"
"No, Max, I'm Shan," Shan chuckled. She gave Max another rub to the head. "Sam's at school." The world started to draw more and more into focus. When Shan's expression turned thoughtful, Max could actually make it out through the skull-helmet's eye sockets. "If you really are… maybe." She seemed to consider Max a moment before shaking her head. "Well, certainly can't ask you when you're so out of it."
None of that made any sense to Max, so she didn't try figuring it out. Once she had a better idea on the locations of up and down, she could afford to work a little harder on Shan's absurd riddles.
"Are you hungry?" Shan asked. Now that was the kind of riddle Max was ready for, so she eagerly nodded. "Oh, well no wonder you're so dizzy, then. Some food should help you feel better." With one more pet to Max's head, Shan got up.
"Thanks," Max mumbled. Food should definitely help. She wasn't particularly hungry, but that was never really an excuse not to eat for her. Shan was right, anyway. Food would help her feel better. Just thinking about eating was already helping her. That or time.
Taking a breath, she suddenly remembered exactly what smell bothered her so much. Before she'd consciously recognized the telling stench of earth, her heart was already picking up the pace. Ground—she was in a ground type's territory. Instincts didn't care if she'd been invited there. They only cared that she was there and needed to be anywhere else.
She tried to get a grip on herself, but then she saw Shan blocking the exit. The only exit. She was trapped in a ground's territory. She couldn't run, couldn't fight, couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Her breath sped up. All the fear came at once before she had a chance to think.
Her eyes shot to Shan turning halfway around. "Max? What's wrong?" Shan asked. Max couldn't think for long enough to slow her breath, much less explain herself. She realized Shan had only noticed her from her sudden whimpering.
All of that whimpering was, of course, pika-speak. Max cut her own attempt to beg for mercy off when she heard herself. She wanted to scuttle into the wall until she disappeared, but she was too terrified to try moving. Her lungs burned, and her heart raced. She couldn't stay, but she certainly couldn't run.
"Why'd you go back to that…?" Shan asked herself. Max didn't listen to a word, too busy staring at the inaccessible exit while every possible failure to run played in her mind in excruciating detail. Shan glanced behind herself, confused until she saw what Max was really looking at. Her eyes suddenly popped open in embarrassed realization, and she brought her paw to cover her mouth.
"Oh Groudon, I'm so sorry," Shan said. Max watched like a hawk while Shan quickly, but gently, moved out of the path between her and the door. "There you go, it's okay," Shan whispered, gesturing to the door. "I'm not gonna stop you."
Max still couldn't take her eyes off Shan. The world around her grew more distant, but Shan seemed closer with every second until her skull looked more clear than Max's own paw. Max stumbled when dropping to all fours and recovered to start backing away. With every step, though, the threat only grew larger in her vision. She could see exactly how far away Shan was, yet still felt like she was mere inches from her.
The terror started overwhelming her as she backed away. She couldn't take another second of it and nearly relished in the feeling of it growing more distant like the world around her. Right before she completely lost her grip, she finally recognized what was happening and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Control," she whimpered. Her heart was battering her rib. She forced her breath to slow and stood up to push her back against the wall. Her right paw went to cradle the bracelet on her wrist. "I'm in control." In lieu of feeling each individual bead, she squeezed the whole of it into her wrist until it hurt both it and her paw. It hurt, but that meant she could still feel it.
The buzz of instincts in her mind didn't diminish at all at first. The world around her only joined in the cacophony infiltrating and overwhelming her mind while sweet, soothing detachment waited right behind. With a mix of terror and temptation, she knew she could Black Out in mere seconds if she let herself.
"Control," she said. She barely believed it, but she could say it. Her words came out as feral babble, but at least she was the one saying them. She took one long, deep breath in, then let it out for three times as long. It slightly helped her calm down, but more importantly, it brought oxygen into her bloodstream instead of huffing it out. The daze slowly faded, and she could finally feel her instincts starting to dissipate.
She flopped to the ground ass first in celebration. "Fuck," she groaned. That had to be the closest she'd come outside a Dungeon.
"Are yo-"
"PIKA chu!" Max shouted. Her eyes shot open to look at Shan still standing on the opposite side of the room. She'd completely forgotten why she'd started to have an episode in the first place until that reason reminded her of its existence. Some fear returned, but her instincts didn't escalate past background babbles. "S-sorry," she whimpered.
"It's all right, sweetie," Shan whispered, "Are you all right?" Max ran through a quick checklist and remembered the many vectors of suffering and exhaustion closing in on her at once, then nodded.
"Yeah," Max said, still keeping close focus on her breath. "Sorry." At least she was too exhausted for her cheeks to spark. They sparked anyway. Great. She had exactly enough energy to embarrass herself. "I hope I didn't scare you." This town might have been nicer about it, but she knew people still somewhat feared those of her 'condition'.
"No, not at all, sweetie," Shan said. Some of her slow, deliberate speaking returned, but she at least metered it back a bit. It could've just been habit from being a mom. "If anything, I'm just happy you're managing to talk!"
More sparks bounced from Max's cheeks. "R-right," she mumbled. "Thanks." She kept her eyes on the ground. Hopefully Shan wouldn't figure out why she'd struggled with that so far.
"I had no idea you were so scared of me," Shan said. Max failed to hide a wince; at least she didn't look offended. "I must've given you quite the fright at the garden, too." Meeting Shan's gaze terrified Max, but curiosity ate at her, too. She couldn't help a nervous glance up. She was glad she had. Shan looked just as embarrassed as her. In fact, did she look nervous?
"H-hey, it's not your fault!" Max said, shaking her paws in an attempt to dispel the notion. "You're really nice! I don't think you're scary, it's just…," she started to lose her confidence, so she pushed forward with desperation instead, "me, not you."
"Aw, bless your heart," Shan chuckled. Max bit her cheek to hide reflexive rage. "You're such a sweetheart, you know." A few more chuckles trickled out as Shan shook her head. "You sure you're all right?"
"Mostly," Max said with a glance to her very bandaged body. A lot hurt, but it was dull and distant thanks to the morphine. She looked back up to see Shan looking at her closely from across the room. The stare pinned her in place with its acuity while remaining distant. She was clearly in thought. Deep thought. About Max. "I-I mean it," Max said. "I'm all right."
Shan snapped out of the trance and shook her head. "Oh, I know," she said. "It's not that. Just something." She started to trail off in thought again before catching herself. Nodding to herself, the conflict in her eyes started to dissipate as she slowly but surely came to a decision. "I'd like to ask you a favor, all right?"
"Ka?" Max squeaked. "Or, uh, sure?" This felt like a complete shift somewhere else out of nowhere; Sam didn't fall far from the tree.
"I completely understand if you don't want to, all right?" Shan said. Max nodded, though the comfort only made her less certain. "Good." Shan paused a moment to take a deep breath. "You know, Sam really looks up to you. That's why she was so excited to see you." Max winced at the memory, and Shan echoed the same. "Sorry about that, again."
"It's all right," Max said. She hadn't been conscious for it, yet thinking about it still made her rib ache beneath the morphine.
"She's even talked about doing what you do," Shan said. A hint of worry planted itself in her eyes and started to seed. "It's just, that's so dangerous." She glanced Max over with a rather obvious implication. "She could get lost, or hurt, or scared." Shan shook her head to stop herself from going on.
Max nodded, starting to see where this was going. Shan was just worried about her daughter like any good mother. Max had probably inspired Sam to want this in the first place, too. In a sense, it was… kinda her fault. Maybe when Sam was older, but Max could probably get her to at least wait for a while. Sam was too young to really understand what this job entailed.
"Right, yeah. I think I can do that," Max said. She could already see Sam's wide, excited eyes staring up at her. It'd hurt to squash that, but hopefully Sam would understand it was just for now.
"You're sure?!" Shan asked. She almost jumped as she did, then closed her eyes as if to temper excitement. Rather. Odd to be excited for tempering her kid's dreams, but she'd probably been worrying about this for a while. She took in a deep breath to brace herself. "She'd just love to join your team."
"What?" Max blurted out. "You, wait—what?" She started to second guess herself. There was no way she heard right. She had to double check, even if it felt ridiculous to ask. Already, she felt like an idiot for suggesting Shan had said this, but she absolutely had to double check, if only to figure out what Shan really wanted. "You want her to join my team?"
Shan nodded with a bit of hesitation, saying, "I understand if it's too much to ask." That had to be an understatement of the year. "She's a smart girl, though, and she's already so independent." She looked at Max with soft, confident eyes. "I think guidance from someone like you would be the perfect thing for her."
Max stared back with her brow furrowed and mouth hanging half open. "Pi, piichu chu," she stammered out, slipping from confusion for the first time she could remember. She took a breath to try again. "Isn't she a bit young for that?"
"What?" Shan chuckled. "Max, I know she's young, but it's not like she's a hatchling." She shook her head with mirth as if somehow convinced she was saying even a single word that made sense.
Max could only stare back in building confusion. Was Sam even a year old? "… isn't she?" she hesitantly asked. Sure, pokémon mature faster than humans, but this had to be pushing it. Keeping with the tradition of this conversation, Shan's reaction again confounded Max.
"Max, she's well over a year old," Shan said.
If her chest and tail didn't hurt more with every passing second, Max would've pinched herself to check if she was dreaming. Over a year old meant 'still learning to walk,' not 'ready to head out on her own.' Then again, Sam wouldn't exactly be on her own, and she'd been far beyond learning to walk since Max had met her. How fast did pokémon mature?
As Max tried desperately to wade through overwhelming confusion, Shan's disappointment started to show. At this point, she was arguing a bit more than just for her daughter's competence. "I understand," Shan said. "I knew it was a lot to ask." She offered a comforting smile (if her eyes were any indication). "Don't worry about disappointing her, though. I haven't told her anything."
Max had found a new line of thought, though, so she barely heard any of that. Wondering how goddamn fast a pokémon could possibly develop was far too enthralling to pay attention to someone talking to her at this point. "Right, what's she learning in school?" she asked.
"What?" Shan asked. She squinted at Max looking for a joke but found nary a setup or punchline. "Well, what anyone would at her age." Max ignored that to avoid getting blindsided by the next sentence. "Some of the local history, Dungeon safety, Algebra, and she's even started looking into human literature." Shan chuckled at the last one, smirking at Max. "I can't imagine why she'd be interested in that, can you?"
Thank God she was confused as she was, or that might have flustered her into revealing her secret identity to the second person in as many days. "Algebra?" Max asked.
"Of course," Shan said.
"Of course," Max echoed. This was. This was completely normal. Sam was over a year old, learning algebra, and this was completely normal. "What the fuck." The slip didn't bother Max. "She's in school. Studying Algebra."
"Well, yes?" Shan asked. Max had kept up the appearance of talking to Shan, and that was biting her in the ass. "Why?" As soon as Shan asked that, though, her eyes shined with understanding. "Oh, bless your heart, I'm sorry." Max suppressed a growl. "You forgot all that, didn't you?"
"No," Max spat. It sounded far too defensive, but that's only because it was, and she quickly realized how completely absurd she looked. Unfortunately, the damage was done.
"Aw, you were worried about her education, weren't you?" Shan asked. It wasn't exactly wrong, even if she didn't know the real reason why. "If you're worrying about teaching her, don't. She already mostly teaches herself, anyway." Yet another baffling accomplishment for a one year old. "Maybe she could even help you remember some of-"
"I didn't forget algebra," Max spat. People already treated her too young—she would absolutely not let anyone think she was less educated than a one year old. After she said it, though, she had another moment recognizing how she looked. Not only did she sound incredibly defensive, but that also made her sound completely unconvincing. She took a breath to calm down.
"Sorry, it's just a sensitive subject for me," she sighed. Shan nodded, far more understanding than Max deserved. Max looked down and to the side in thought. Time for another of her patented 'technically true statements' to pull her out of this. "I remember what I learned, just not learning it." Luckily, looking like she was lying also looked like she was embarrassed (her cheeks were sparking, too).
"If this is too uncomfortable for you, that's all right," Shan said. "It looks like I'm getting you all up in a tizzy again."
"I'm Not. In a tizzy," Max growled, rolling her eyes exactly like one would whilst in the midst of a tizzy. She fell back into her own thoughts again, though, so she hardly noticed Shan chuckling. Her life spinning out of control as it was, it was almost fun to imagine basically adopting a child. "I'm being promoted to the Mist Continent, you know."
"Oh, the Mist Continent?" Shan asked with bubbling excitement. "My wife lives there!" Well, that explained why Max hadn't ever seen Sam's other parent. "Oh, Sam misses her so much, too! It'd just be perfect!"
All the pieces were coming together. It was like a storybook. Max needed to head off this disappointment before it grew too much.
"No shi—way, really?" Max asked, not helping things in the slightest. This was absolutely absurd. She wouldn't even consider it for a moment. She wouldn't let herself entertain the notion even long enough to consider how much she kinda missed Sam anyway, or how well a ground would round out their team's typing—who was she kidding at this point.
The way Shan looked at her, she could clearly tell what Max was thinking so hard about. If anything, she'd noticed before Max had. Max wouldn't have considered this even a moment on her own. Having Sam's mother bring it up, though, was just responsible seeming enough to get her wondering.
"You're sure Sam can study on her own?" Max asked.
"Well, yes, though maybe she won't have to with her mother there," Shan said with pointed emphasis on the local relative. "In fact, I think you would get along rather well with Jan." She winked with a glance behind Max.
"Why?" Max asked. She looked behind her but only saw the wall. Well, and her tail. She suddenly froze in place. "Wait." She turned around and pointed at her tail with one ear raised. "Sh-she?" Shan nodded. The choice to bring Sam with her became infinitely easier. "Y-you're sure you're okay with this?"
"Sam leaving? Oh honey, of course I'm not," Shan chuckled. "I'm her mother. I'd shove her back in her egg if I could!" Behind her laugh, though, hovered a hint of melancholy. A sigh came to temper the joy in her eyes with a mournful shake of her head. "That's what being a mom's all about, though." She looked up at Max. "They just grow up so fast."
"No fucking kidding," Max mumbled. It was hard enough to believe it when Ithos told her he was nine. She threw her paw to her mouth before she could think through that much further, though. "Or, I—heck?"
Shan tilted her head a moment before starting to laugh again. "Oh sweetie, don't censor yourself like that," she chuckled. "I've never cared for that sort of thing, but I certainly couldn't ask you to do it the whole time Sam lives with you." Max was starting to warm up to Shan, but not to the point she could laugh along (certainly not as her ribs continued to hurt more). Shan seemed to understand as much and tempered her own laughter.
"That is, if you're really willing," Shan said. She gave Max a firm gaze, hopeful, but not imposing.
"Sure," Max answered before she had to contend with sense. Shan let out a pained sigh of excitement. She brought a paw to her heart, forcing Max to again contend with the worsening pain in her chest. Her tail had some constant ongoing burn on it, but it'd felt that way since she woke up. It was much easier to notice her once tolerable chest hurting again.
"Thank you so much," Shan said. She took a few tentative steps forward while keeping a close eye on Max, waiting for a go-ahead. Max wasn't paying enough attention to give one, though.
"Chuuu," Max groaned with a paw to her chest. The morphine had to be wearing off. Hopefully it had been long enough that Neb—her eyes shot open in terror. "Neb!" She threw her paws to the sides of her head. She'd promised to come back after the garden—and now she'd been gone for hours. Her mouth hung open while her heart sank in shame.
As if called by the universe, the door opened. Max turned to see who it was. A window let light into the house, but her eyes still needed a second to adjust to direct sunlight. A flame behind the silhouette betrayed who it was early.
Mandy, no doubt here on Neb's request, had certainly searched the entire town for her. She'd mentioned having a shorter rope than Neb. It must have been long expended by now. Like an angel of judgment in the doorway, her silhouette dissolved into her form as Max's eyes painfully adjusted to the Holy Light. She raised a paw to wave, and Max prepared for her smiting.
"Yo," Mandy said.
"Please I'm so sorry!" Max screamed. She threw her paws up in dramatic surrender while the other two girls flinched back at the outburst. "I—I got hurt, and I think I fainted—I just forgot! Please help! I don't want Neb to-"
"Max!" Mandy screamed. "Calm down!"
Max did no such thing and started cowering away from her eternal damnation. The utter, horrible truth of what she did started to hit her while her head started to swim. Screaming all that out made her chest hurt so much worse she wanted to give up on breathing altogether. Any pursuit of that goal, obviously, didn't do her swimming head any favors.
"Hey, dumb bitch," Mandy said, yanking Max's face out by the cheek. "Here." The moment Max opened her mouth to mutter some more gibberish, Mandy flicked something right into the back of her throat. Mandy shoved a thumb-claw into Max's mouth to hold it open, then shoved in the tip of a bladder-style canteen. Water shot down Max's throat to soothe the pill's path before she went into a coughing fit.
Max jerked her head out of Mandy's grasp, rubbing her cheek with a paw. Mandy hadn't stopped squeezing the canteen, though, so Max got an extra squirt of water to her face as well. Luckily, it managed to shock her out of her daze.
"Kaa ka chu?" Max growled. The slip wounded her indignant rage, and seeing Mandy's face finished it off. "I can explain!" she sputtered out before Mandy could say another word. Another slip made her bite her cheek. She was more lucid, but the ache in her chest still made it hard to think. It took concerted effort to stay conscious, and even more to try speaking again. "I. Can explain."
Mandy stared down in utter disbelief. She looked confused for only a moment, then she shook her head and let it fade. "Sure, go ahead," she said. Clearly, she could use an explanation.
Max took a breath of relief. She had a chance. She could explain herself. She just needed a minute to breathe. Another minute to rest, maybe. Once she started considering dozing, though, she tried to shake the drowse away.
"Forgot," she forced out, stifling a yawn. "I—look, I know how this looks, and I swear I'm sorry." She looked at the ground. It was better than seeing another friend lose their patience. "I fucked up, I know, but I…." She bit her tongue before she offered another excuse. This was her mistake. She needed to own it. "I'm sorry. I should've come right back. I was reckless, and I'm sorry."
Mandy stared down at her. Max couldn't bring herself to look, even so terrified that she tried to stifle her awareness to the fullest extent. She knew she deserved it, but she couldn't take it. She flinched when Mandy opened her mouth to speak.
"Max," Mandy said. She spoke softly, with an ocean of care in her tone. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Max peeked one eye open and mumbled, "Huh?" This wasn't exactly the Holy Judgment Max had prepared for. Mandy acted compassionate yesterday, but she didn't play dumb. Maybe Neb hadn't told her the full story. Max's earlier outburst still left her chest throbbing too hard to breathe, though. It made it nearly impossible to keep any kind of conversation going.
"I need to go back, first," she groaned. "Everything's really starting to hurt." She brought a paw to her chest, then winced and flicked her paw away the instant it made contact. "Kaachu. P—, i-is it too soon for more painkiller?"
"Max, why do you think I'm here?" Mandy asked. She stared down at Max waiting for an answer, then looked over to Shan when she only got a blank stare. Shan didn't help much, either, and just shrugged. Mandy rolled her eyes and looked back at Max. "I just gave you your meds. Neb sent me because she figured you'd need them soon."
"Neb… sent?" Max asked. The constant, painful beating of her heart made more coherent questions impossible. Relief was on its way, at least, but it still left the current moment unbearable. She let out a helpless whimper.
"Here, give this to her," Shan called from the kitchen area. Mandy spun half-way around to catch some blue pillow, then hissed as she threw it at the ground.
"Ow, fuck!" Mandy growled. "Warn a girl. That shit burns." She bent over to pluck it up by the very tips of her claws. She held it out to Max, who remained hesitant to grab it after that less than stellar testimonial. If it burnt a fire, it might light Max's fur on contact.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Mandy," Shan said. "It's an ice pack." Well, that made more sense. Max caught it as Mandy dropped it to turn and glare at Shan.
Max didn't pay much attention to their face off. She pressed the pack against her chest and grit her teeth against the pain. The cold took a minute to make it through her bandages and fur, so she had to endure almost a full half a minute of worsened pain. She let out a few grumbles and squeaks in the meantime that didn't do anything for the pain, but they made her feel better. Finally, the chill started to numb the pain.
She took a deep breath in celebration and hissed out a squeak of regret. Still too soon for celebration. She leaned very gently back until she had laid down on her side, resting her head on her free arm.
"Well, now that you're comfortable," Mandy said, "Mind telling me what the hell you were freaking about earlier?" She stood over Max with her arms crossed, but her eyes betrayed concern.
Max nodded while she tried to breathe without hurting herself further. It was progressively easier as the ice froze her nerves. She couldn't manage a deep breath, but she got pretty close to a full one. "Neb," she said. "I told her I'd come right back."
Mandy nodded along, waiting for the rest of the explanation. That had more or less been the end of Max's explanation, but apparently it wasn't remotely enough. Max switched the paws holding the ice pack. While Mandy didn't have enough information, Shan gathered enough to figure out where Max was going.
"Oh, sweetie, don't worry about that," Shan said. "I went to tell Neb where you were after changing your bandages." Max risked a breath of relief, and the ice pack let her get away with it this time. "No one's gonna get mad at you over an accident." Shan looked away to scratch at the back of her neck. "Particularly one that's not your fault."
"Well," Mandy interjected. "Max's been tormenting Neb with 'accidents' for a while now." She smirked at Max with the glee of a sibling tattling.
"I'm trying, all right?" Max whimpered.
Mandy's smirk soured with guilt and worsened when Shan glared at her. "Anyway, you good to go?" Mandy asked. "Some dude wants to talk with you."
"Some dude?" Max asked. She tried to think of anyone who'd even know she was here.
"Yeah," Mandy said. "They're kind of a freak, though, so I'm sticking with you." She looked to the side remembering the encounter and shivered. "I swear they appeared out of nowhere." Max knew of a particular someone with this kind of effect on people.
"Was it a charmander?" Max asked.
Mandy grimaced with a nod. "They a stalker or something?" she asked. Before waiting for an answer, she turned to Shan with a wave to her bone. "You wanna help me teach this freak a lesson?" To accentuate the offer, she slammed a clenched fist into her opposite paw.
"Wait!" Max said, holding back a laugh. Eleos probably wouldn't mind the 'lesson', but it also didn't deserve it. She was a bit pissed at it for just leaving her for so long, but she couldn't bring herself to blame anyone else for that. "It's my partner."
"Oh," Mandy said. She dropped her paws and looked a bit frustrated. "I was kinda hoping for a fight." She quickly shrugged it off, though, nearly catching Max's pining gaze. That willingness to fight for her at a moment's notice was… appealing, to say the least (enthralling, to say more). "Like, your teammate, or your fuck?" Max's meaningless sputters gave the answer away before words could.
"Gotcha," Mandy chuckled. Shaking her head, she rested her paw on her hip and raised a worried brow at Max. "You've got some odd taste in flings, though." Odd was probably one of the nicest ways to describe Eleos, all things considered.
"What can I say?" Max said. "I like a bit of crazy."
"Oh, so me?" Mandy said. This time, Max miraculously managed to keep her dignity by not sputtering out flustered babbles. It didn't stop Mandy's smug grin, but it kept it from getting worse.
"Can we just go?" Max asked. She had yet to get off the ground, so Mandy shrugged and waited. They couldn't exactly head out unless Max could get up, after all. She propped herself up with her right arm while the left held the ice-pack. It took some effort, but she managed to stand up without wobbling too much.
She looked at the ice pack for a moment. It was no doubt part of the reason she could get up. Even under the chill, she felt her frozen nerves aching. She couldn't hold it unless she walked upright, though, and she didn't want to test her stamina like that.
"Here," she said, turning to give it to Shan, but she was too far away. Shan had dutifully stayed half a room away this whole time. Max awkwardly hobbled over to close the distance and tried giving it back again. "Thanks." The proximity reminded her how dangerously massive Shan was—over three times her height!—but she tried to keep her fear in check.
"Of course," Shan said. She grabbed the pack, and Max quickly flopped down. Shan reached down to pat between Max's ears, and it was almost comforting. "Should you tell Sam, or should I?"
"Up to you," Max said with an attempted shrug. Not an ideal way to emote from that posture. The thought of seeing Sam again brought a smile to her face. "I'm excited, though." Shan gave another pat to the head, and Max felt a lot less conflicted about it this time.
"We'll see you soon," Shan said. Max looked half up to smile, then headed for the increasingly impatient Mandy waiting by the door. Max couldn't hurry in her condition, but she stopped stalling and headed over. Mandy pushed the door open, gave an unceremonious wave, then ducked out the door. Max squinted at the light and followed close behind. They weren't ten paces from the house when Mandy spoke up.
"If I'd known you were trapped with her, I would've sprung you out sooner," Mandy grumbled.
"What?" Max asked. She tried to look to the side and raise a brow, but she wasn't entirely confident in taking her eyes off her path. "Is something wrong with her?"
"Oh, I do not know, sweetie," Mandy said in an overly slow, soft tone. "Do you have any problem with her?" It was obviously an exaggeration, but it was unfortunately close to how Shan talked before Max managed to stop with the pika-speak. Mandy groaned and dropped the imitation. "She's not evil, but seriously." She shook her head. "She still treats us all like domesticated ferals instead of people."
Max almost tried to speak up in Shan's defense, but the whole reason she got in this situation was because Shan had assumed she was too stupid to open a gate instead of too short. "At least she's nice," she said.
"Please," Mandy chuckled, blowing a raspberry. "If you really thought that, you'd have more to say." It was hard logic to beat. "C'mon, I can tell she gets on your nerves, too."
"Well, of course she does," Max said. "I barely know her." Mandy raised a brow at that, so Max looked away. "Everyone's kind of annoying when I meet them. It's an old habit." She started squirming as she walked and paid significantly more attention to the ground below.
"Hello, dearest," Max heard herself say. She stopped in her tracks and turned right to see an uncomfortably familiar pikachu.
"Gah, fuck!" Mandy shouted, jumping back. "Who the hell… are…," her eyes shifted between Max and the other pikachu, "you?" Max took a few steps back to meet her, somewhat relieved the pikachu looked so similar to Mandy, too.
"What do you mean?" the pikachu asked, nearly shutting one eye while the opposite brow raised absurdly high. "We spoke earlier, did we not?"
The more Max looked at the pikachu, the more she felt her gut twisting at the sight. It was like looking into a mirror. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't pull her eyes from the sight. The compounding horror and disgust from seeing someone so like herself made it nearly impossible to look away. It was a terrible thing to think about someone else, but she couldn't convince herself she was looking at someone else.
The pikachu turned to her, and Max squeaked in fear. Even his eyes were the same odd color as hers, but they seemed, somehow, blank. It looked almost… soulless. She looked a bit deeper and saw a vague hint of dark purple in the darkest part of the iris.
"Eleos?" Max asked. "Why the fuck do you look like…," she couldn't bring herself to admit it looked like her, "that?" The pikachu looked down at itself and flattened its expression further. It had to be Eleos, then, since no random pikachu that happened to look like her would understand her.
"Oh," Eleos said. It looked aimlessly off into the distance for a moment until it came up with an idea. "Forgive me, sister." Max didn't like its idea. "I assumed Mandy had explained the whole of our arrangement to you."
"Excuse me?" Mandy asked, stepping right up next to Max. "I've never seen you." She gave a doubtful look down to Max, but ultimately stood her ground. "What 'arrangement' are you talking about?"
"Well, Eleos told you to bring her to me that I may bring her to it," Eleos explained to the only person other than it who would know for a fact that was a lie.
"No the fuck it didn't," Mandy growled. She took another step forward and started creeping protectively in front of Max. She was getting ready for a fight. Max knew she needed to step in, but she was honestly amazed at the brazenly awful attempt at deception. She almost wanted to see how far it dug this hole.
"Oh, is that so?" Eleos hummed. It crossed its arms and looked grumpily off to the side. "Well, it seems that Eleos has disappointed us yet again, my love-ly little sister." Max could barely blink as Eleos clicked its tongue at… itself. "By Tapu Koko's charge, I've no clue what you see in that devil." It was insulting itself. It was pretending to be her brother to insult itself. Max was going to need therapy.
"Can I kick your 'brother's' ass, Max?" Mandy asked.
"No?" Max said, though it wasn't an easy decision. At this point, she kinda wanted to see how far Eleos could dig itself into this hole.
Mandy glanced at Max between glares at Eleos before letting out an exasperated grunt. "Fine," she said. "Whatever. Take us to her little freak Eleos."
"Us?" Eleos asked. It rolled its eyes with an exaggerated sigh. "Perhaps Eleos failed to explain this as well, but it wishes to speak with her alone." It shook its head in silent frustration. "She has always brought home the most contemptible partners."
"Hey!" Max finally spoke up. "Quit talking about y-it like that." The insults were starting to seem like much more than an act. "What's gotten into you?"
"Please," Eleos sighed. "You've never been able to see it for what it really is. You let your own self-hatred blind you." It stared down at her with a look she'd seen before. That night it held her, tracing its claw down her neck while they rode on a sled. Max started to feel a pit forming in her stomach. It avoided her for almost a week, then insults itself when they finally talk.
"Can I please just kill him?" Mandy complained.
"No!" Max said. At this point, she almost wished she hadn't had the morphine yet. She really didn't have the energy for whatever was going on. "Just go, all right? I'll be fine." Mandy looked down as if to double check, so Max nodded. Really, she just wanted Mandy gone so that Eleos could get out of that hideous form.
"All right," Mandy said, throwing her paws up in the air. She walked up to jam a claw into Eleos' chest. "But if you so much as breathe on her too hard, you're dead."
Eleos smacked her claw away and said, "Noted." The two stared each other down for long, painful seconds while Max wondered how she'd keep them from killing each other. It was starting to look more likely with every second.
Mandy jerked around and gave one last concerned look Max's way. "You get back soon, all right?" she asked. Behind her frustration with Eleos, she seemed deeply concerned. Max couldn't blame her. Even for Eleos, this was bizarrely anti-social. She was starting to dread what it wanted to talk to her about.
"I will," Max said. She managed a smile to look confident enough that Mandy finally nodded and headed off. Max watched her leave to put off having to look at Eleos again.
"Forgive me," Eleos said once Mandy turned a corner. "I had not realized my form had shifted."
"Can you change back?" Max asked. She looked around for any prying eyes and the coast seemed to be clear. "It's… I don't like it, all right?"
Eleos looked conflicted for a moment but nodded. "As you wish," it said. Its flesh dissolved into smoke and gas that spun and spilled into itself as it wound out of Max's form and into its own. Max let out a breath of relief as the smoke turned to orange scales, and she could finally see her partner again. It was barely solid before she rushed up to hug it as carefully as she could in her excitement.
Eleos raised one paw to pat her back. It seemed hesitant to touch her at all. Even with her arms wrapped around it, Eleos still felt so distant.
"What happened?" Max asked. She let go and took a few steps back. She looked at its eyes, but it didn't look into hers. It refused to meet her gaze. "What's going on?"
Eleos looked at her for half a second, then looked away when its form began to falter. "Forgive me," it said. Sparkling smoke oozed out of its mouth even when it closed. "I have longed for you in this time. That form has been the closest I could come to seeing you again."
"What?" Max asked, shaking her head in disbelief. "Eleos, I've missed you, too!" It was hard to resist screaming, even if the morphine would fend off the worst of those consequences. "Why didn't you just come see me?"
Eleos finally met her gaze with its own. It stared with intensity she hadn't seen from it since they'd first met. She flinched back. "I am sorry," it said. "The inevitability I told you of has already come to pass." Max tried to read its expression, to figure out what it was trying to say, but she only felt malice. A new pain in her chest came to accompany her rib.
Eleos reached a paw out to stroke her cheek, then cupped it. Even this small touch looked impossibly strenuous. "Your soul no longer calls to me," it said.
"Pretty soon you're dead
You can't pretend, you can't deny, you can't deny
Pretty soon you're dead
You can't pretend, you can't deny, you can't deny"