TRAINER ID
Name: Daniel Ingram
Badges: 3
Account: 39,121 credits
Location: Dewford Town
DANIEL'S TEAM
Trapinch - Female
OWEN'S TEAM
Shroomish (Misha) - Female
Slakoth (Omar) - Male
Owen's house was a lot more impressive than I had been envisioning. In some ways, at least.
The single-story home sat just beyond the point where the beach's sand meets grass, nestled among some fruit-bearing trees for privacy from the dirt path that ran along the slight hill protecting the beachfront homes from the ocean.
Even among the other homes nearby that I was able to observe on our way there, Owen's home was unique. Likely the handiwork of his mother based on what I'd heard, he essentially had his own tree grove and multiple sections of garden all around the home. There was an abundance of planter pots, flower beds, and garden plots, and although some were purely for aesthetics it seemed to me that the vast majority of what they grew was for practical uses, such as fruits, vegetables, and various spices.
Though only a single-story home it was still quite large, at least by my standards. Owen gave me a quick tour when we went inside to drop off our stuff, and I counted three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a very respectable kitchen and dining room area, and a cozy yet spacious living room serving as the centerpiece of the home.
As beautiful as the home was, there were some things you could criticize, which I of course kept to myself. There was no proper 'yard' since every inch at their disposal had been dedicated to their grove or garden, although it wasn't necessarily a problem considering they essentially had an entire beach for a backyard only a few steps down the hill just beyond their patio deck adorned with flowerpots and a few wicker chairs shaded by an awning.
Another criticism one could have of the home was that it was rather… dated. The whole house had a sort of rustic and antique decor to it, the kitchen had an old-fashioned gas stove and worn cupboards with rusted hinges, and the outside of the home had sun-bleached wooden sidings that had the paint peeling off. Considering much of the exterior was covered in moss and the climbing vines of shrubs that wrapped around and clung to the side of the home, it wasn't too surprising that they hadn't been able to repaint the home. The entire house looked like it was slowly in the process of being reclaimed by nature, though it wasn't nearly so unruly that it could be mistaken for abandoned or unmaintained.
Owen's bedroom was noticeably different from the rest of the house. It was a lot more modern in terms of furniture, was painted red rather than the more muted earth tones the rest of the house had, and was messier than anywhere else in the house. He had a standing punching bag that looked very well used and a lot of posters on the wall of various trainers and their teams, which only further confirmed to me just how much of a fanboy he was for certain big names.
After dropping off our stuff and getting a quick tour of the house, we hit the town. It was immediately clear to me that Dewford was a lot more subdued in the wake of the lockdown than Lavaridge had been, but considering the island hadn't been one of the places targeted by Team Rocket, I wasn't surprised.
Although being in Dewford allowed us to largely dodge the unwanted attention we'd gotten in Lavaridge, it wasn't completely gone either – just different in nature. I still caught people stealing glances and whispering about us, but it was a fraction of what it had been earlier in the day. It soon became clear that it wasn't because they recognized us from what had happened at Lavaridge, but because they knew Owen and were interested to see him home.
Quite a few people approached us to welcome Owen back and fulfill their curiosity at who the outsider he'd brought with him was. Only a couple of them actually brought up what had happened, praising Owen as a hero who'd made Dewford proud, yet they quickly dropped the topic when realizing we weren't too keen on talking about what was clearly a sore subject for us.
Although all the interactions were positive and friendly, it was still a bit awkward at times. I'd never met so many people in my life and felt rather out of my element, but since I no longer needed to worry about people possibly harboring resentment towards me it was a marked improvement from being in Lavaridge.
It was honestly impressive how many people seemed to know Owen, as well as how many of them he could greet by name. In fact, I couldn't help but notice that most of Dewford's residents seemed to know each other, at least in passing. It was a frequent occurrence to see people waving at one another or stopping to chat, and it really drove home just how tight-knit the community was, a noticeable difference from what you'd find in a place like Petalburg, Rustboro, or Mauville. I'd witnessed a little of it in Verdanturf and Lavaridge, but it had never been more noticeable than it was in Dewford, especially since I was experiencing it first-hand with Owen.
I was starting to understand why Owen was so proud of his hometown. Perhaps it was because I'd grown up in a big city like Petalburg, but it was very different from how I felt about my own home. In fact, I might have even gone so far as to say that I disliked Petalburg, although that was less a reflection on the city itself and more related to the memories it carried for me and what it had come to symbolize.
Not only did the people of Dewford seem to all know one another, but they were exceptionally friendly. I had been worried that the residents of the small island wouldn't be too accepting of outsiders given what Owen had told me about them being protective of their secret swaths of beach, but everybody he introduced me to was nothing but welcoming and kind. Being with Owen rather than alone was undoubtedly a factor, which only made me that much more grateful that I'd been able to experience Dewford with him.
We spent a couple of hours wandering around Dewford as he introduced me to many places and people I knew I'd never hope to remember the names of. Owen was as excited and happy as I'd ever seen him so I did my best to let him enjoy himself, but it was honestly rather exhausting. As far as I was concerned, I'd gladly push through my aching muscles and completely drained social battery if it meant that Owen had a smile on his face. I knew he was doing his best to hide how devastated he was at the loss of two of his team members, and if showing me around his hometown served as a source of happiness and a temporary distraction from his troubles, I was happy to go along with it.
Truthfully, I was doing a little bit of my own avoidance. I knew myself well enough to know that if I didn't have something to distract me, I'd slip into some dark and depressing thoughts. I'd caught myself doing it a couple of times the previous night at the hospital, but had managed to subdue my thoughts by researching and planning around what I could work with on my team when I finally got them back.
Speaking of which, I was extremely nervous to see Trapinch. Although training her would make for an excellent distraction and there were a lot of things I wanted to work on, it felt like there was a slew of issues. The last time I'd talked to her was in my Pokécenter room in Lavaridge to warn her she would be staying overnight for testing, which was days ago, and she had no clue what all had transpired since then.
I also wasn't completely confident that she wouldn't try to hurt me now that none of my other team members were around to help keep her in check, and I was really worried about how she would react to learning that we weren't going to be headed back to her desert as planned. It felt like no matter what I did it, would seem like I had lied to her or was strong-arming her.
'Hey there Trapinch, long time no see! Yeah, it's been a few days and as you can see, we're on a secluded island halfway across the region. Oops, my bad. The rest of the team is gone for now, not sure where they are or when they'll be back, so it's just you and me for the foreseeable future. By the way, did you wanna join the team? You're stuck with me regardless so your answer doesn't really change anything, but please say yes.'
Okay, I knew it wouldn't be quite that bad, but still… Ugh.
There was also the slight issue that I had no earthly idea how or what I was going to feed her, which I knew I'd need to do soon as it had been days since she last ate. She seemed completely uninterested in anything that wasn't live prey, yet I had no team to help corral a Pokémon into her trap, and I couldn't be confident whatever Pokémon she ate wouldn't infect her with Pokérus.
Needless to say, things were a mess.
After spending some time touring Dewford to take in the sights, meet people, and letting Owen revel in being home, we finally made our way back to his house as the sun began to reach the sea's horizon. It was especially beautiful and I expressed an interest in watching it, but Owen was adamant that the only way we'd get a home-cooked meal was if we timed our arrival at just the right time.
As he pointed out, it wasn't like scenic sunsets were in short supply. I'd have plenty of opportunities to enjoy them, since we were going to be in Dewford until lockdown lifted. He also claimed that the sunrise was much more impressive, and was adamant that I was going to wake up early enough to train with him to be able to see it.
Though I would have preferred to sleep in since I still felt sore, I reluctantly agreed. He claimed that exercising would actually help me feel better, since it increased blood flow to pump oxygen and nutrients to the muscles. I wasn't sure I fully believed him, since it seemed like it would only make me more sore, but it would give us both a much-needed distraction and keep him happy if nothing else.
My social battery completely drained, I dearly hoped that Owen's family wouldn't be high-strung. Yet as we quietly let ourselves into the house and surprised them while they were settling in after work, I realized that wouldn't be an issue, and also why Owen's house looked the way it did.
Owen's parents were old, at least relative to what you'd expect. They weren't quite retirement age, but if Owen had introduced them as his grandparents I wouldn't have questioned it because they were well into their fifties, if I had to guess.
That aside, it turned out that Owen had been rather spot-on with how he'd described his parents. His mother was warm, welcoming, easy-going, and pretty obviously a hippie at heart if her tie-dye sundress and calloused bare feet were any indicator. This was in stark contrast to Owen's father, who was a stoic and somewhat intimidating man who seemed perfectly content to wear his ranger uniform for the rest of the evening, though he had ditched his boots in favor of walking around in slippers.
He was on the slender side, which made sense considering he was somewhat of a flying-type specialist from what Owen had told me, however he was also remarkably toned given his age. While Owen's mother was nothing but ecstatic at Owen's sudden return and welcomed me with a slightly awkward hug upon meeting me, his father greeted me with a simple nod and a handshake so firm that I was worried my hand might turn blue. He struck me as old-fashioned and more on the reserved side, though I wouldn't say he was shy either – he just didn't seem to talk unless he had something to say, and was content to let his wife do most of the pleasantries and socializing.
As we took a seat around the dinner table to chat while Owen's mom whipped up a celebratory feast of sorts, I couldn't help but notice that things were a little… tense. Being a natural introvert myself, I've always had a high tolerance for awkward silences, yet that period waiting for dinner was painfully awkward, even for me. I eventually concluded that two different things contributed to it, and there wasn't much to be done about either.
The first was simply the fact that so many topics revealed themselves as being off-limits. Owen's father didn't seem to want to talk much about how his work as a ranger had been going, clearly stressed and overworked, and kept his answers vague and brief the few times Owen or I attempted to ask. The same was true for Owen when asked about his team, his future plans, and anything about the events at the Lavaridge Pokécenter, which to my surprise it seemed they hadn't been fully filled in on. It didn't take long for it to be clear which topics people wanted to avoid, and by the time dinner was being served things were a little better and more casual. But there was one other thing that made the atmosphere slightly awkward, and I was partially to blame for it.
The simple truth was, Owen's father was a fellow introvert. Add on that the fact that he was ravenously hungry, appeared to be even more exhausted than me after a long day at work and looked like he was ready to go to bed hours ago, and his contributions to our dinner conversations were even more meager than my own, which was really saying something.
I wasn't feeling particularly talkative after a long day, enough socializing to last me a week, and my body still rather achy. Most of all, the reality that I wouldn't be able to see my team anytime soon was really starting to sink in, not exactly leaving me in the best of moods.
I won't lie – I was a bad dinner guest that first night, and I probably didn't make the best first impression. Initially, Owen's mom kept trying to include me by asking me questions, as she seemed endlessly curious to know more about her son's new friend and recent travel companion. I tried to stay engaged and be polite, but most of my contributions came out short and blunt, not too dissimilar to Owen's dad. It didn't take long for Owen and his mom, being far more social and energetic, to take over the conversation and catch up with one another while Owen's father and I were content to focus on eating the amazing yet unidentifiable meal.
As dinner wrapped up, Owen's dad promptly yet politely excused himself to go to bed, claiming he needed sleep for what was sure to be another long day at work, so I took the opportunity to do the same. Owen and his mother helped me get settled into the guest bedroom, telling me to make myself at home and not to hesitate to ask if I needed anything, and I was finally free to relax as they returned to the living room to continue catching up.
Thankfully, sleep would come easily enough despite feeling slightly out of place in the guest bedroom. While not quite as comfortable as a Pokécenter room, it was undoubtedly better than sleeping in a tent, but it still felt odd to be in someone else's house. Finally having a moment to myself, I spent a little time reflecting on things, wondering how my team was doing and considering the situation with Trapinch. My thoughts kept wandering back to the events of Lavaridge, so soon I decided to focus on my breathing and was able to clear my mind enough to fall asleep. It helped that I was still sore and had been woken up rather early so the doctor could run tests on me, so I was exhausted.
If I'm being honest, I wasn't quite ready to fully come to terms with what had happened to me and my team. Every time my thoughts strayed to my encounter with the Rockets, I could feel unease and anxiety setting in from the helplessness I'd felt during what I'd been fully convinced was me experiencing the death of my starter and myself.
I knew I'd need to address it eventually, but I had nothing but time to do that. For the time being, I wanted to ignore the problems I felt I couldn't do anything about focus on things to keep me occupied and productive, at least as much as possible given the circumstances.
Definitely an unhealthy mindset to have, but I knew that if I gave it too much thought I'd only get depressed and upset. My game plan was simple – keep myself preoccupied however possible until I was reunited with my team, and then the things troubling me could be confronted with confidence and optimism.
I just needed my team back and everything else would fall into place. Or that was the hope, at least. Unfortunately, time and patience couldn't fix Owen's troubles nearly as certainly as they could mine, and I was about to get a taste of just how unhealthy distracting yourself from your problems could really be.
I awoke the next morning to Owen knocking on the door and telling me that we needed to get our workout done before breakfast, despite the fact that the sun hadn't even begun to rise yet.
I'd always thought I was an early riser, yet comparing me to Owen's family was like comparing Samantha to myself. They were fully awake and alert as I dragged myself out of bed, lounging in the living room as Owen's dad read what appeared to be yesterday's newspaper and his mom watched the morning news. The newscaster was doing street interviews in what I instantly recognized to be Mauville, asking people about what they thought about the lockdown and the League's handling of it.
I didn't get to catch much of it, nor did I really want to, but I did overhear a man they were interviewing calling it a disgrace and an embarrassment, both to Mauville as the place Pokérus had originated from and to Hoenn as a whole. Unsurprisingly, people were not happy, yet as historic of a time as it was I didn't find myself wanting to follow it too closely for obvious reasons. I just wanted to keep my head down, wait for things to blow over to return to some semblance of normalcy, and continue on my journey with my team. I'd never been that interested in politics in general, but since everything Pokérus related hit so close to home after the events in Lavaridge, I was especially keen on avoiding it when possible.
"Morning boys!" Owen's mom greeted us cheerfully as we came into the room, turning down the television as Owen's dad looked up from his newspaper to give a nod in greeting.
"Morning. We're going for our morning workout, we'll be back in time for breakfast," Owen waved, making his way for the door.
"Hold it," Owen's dad cut in authoritatively, folding the newspaper and setting it aside. "What part of lockdown do you not understand? You don't have your team with you, and the beaches are closed."
"I still have Misha and Omar, and Danny has his Trapinch," Owen pointed out with a frown. "Besides, I thought Pokérus hadn't really reached Dewford?"
"Not nearly as badly as most places, but it's not non-existent either. It's still on the rise, and this morning we're supposedly getting an update that lets us scan for Pokérus on our Pokédex. That means we'll be launching a campaign to check the local habitats for infection, and for that we need people to stay out of our way."
Owen hummed in thought. "I guess we could do it in the Pokécenter's basement recreation room, assuming it's open. It's big enough to jog and do everything we need."
Owen's father nodded in approval, opting not to say anything further on the matter as he reached for a mug on the side table. As Owen moved for the door again and tried to bid his family one final goodbye, I found myself planted firmly in place.
Now that I was paying attention to it, there was an aroma in the air that called to me, and I must have been staring longingly at Owen's father because he took notice as he finished taking a sip and gave a wide grin, the first genuinely positive expression I'd seen the man give.
"Ah, a fellow coffee man? Feel free to help yourself to the pot in the kitchen, I can always make more. I'm the only one in the house who drinks it, so I'm happy to have someone around who shares my appreciation for the stuff."
I happily accepted, much to Owen's thinly-veiled displeasure. I could tell he was very anxious to get going, so upon seeing that there were no travel mugs in the cabinet I decided to tell Owen to go ahead without me, and that I'd be right behind him after I finished a cup.
He reluctantly agreed, and I found myself alone with Owen's parents for the first time. Truthfully, I only half did it for the coffee – I found Owen's dad a little intimidating and felt bad about not being talkative the previous evening, so I saw it as the perfect opportunity to try to get on better terms with them, considering I was going to be spending the foreseeable future in their home.
"Not often someone your age has a taste for coffee," Owen's dad commented with amusement as he saw the look of relief on my face as I took my first sip.
"I got turned onto it early in my journey, when I was traveling with my sister. She's addicted to the stuff," I explained.
"Oh, you have a sister? Owen never mentioned that. If she was traveling with you, does that mean she's a trainer too? Where is she?" Owen's mom asked with interest.
I couldn't help but frown in confusion. "Her name is Sammy. I'm surprised Owen wouldn't have mentioned her, considering she was traveling with us up until the split on Route 111."
Owen's father scowled, "That boy… He didn't make her uncomfortable, did he?"
"...No? She's a coordinator, so she headed to Fallarbor while we went to Lavaridge," I explained.
His dad sighed in relief, but his mother's eyes twinkled with interest as she drank her tea, both literally and figuratively.
"They got along just fine, and he never hit on her if that's what you're implying," I said hurriedly, feeling like I needed to defend Owen for some reason. "We'd planned on meeting back up with her in Mauville, but that's sort of out the window, at least for now."
"That's good. Maybe he's done some growing up since leaving on his journey. There was a time when I couldn't turn my back without the boy flirting or sneaking off with some girl," his dad said with a shake of his head.
Owen's mom giggled, seemingly deeply amused and not nearly as disapproving of Owen's behavior as her husband was, and I gave them a confused look as I went to bat for Owen. "I haven't seen Owen flirt with any girls, so that's surprising to hear. Then again, I suppose he hasn't had much opportunity, it's not like we've met a ton of people since we've been together. Now that you mention it though, he did mention Sammy was 'off limits' since she's my sister. He also implied he would have flirted with Anastasia Stern if she wasn't engaged after she offered us our sponsorship, but I've never actually seen him do it, let alone run off with a girl."
Owen's father's eyes narrowed, "Owen got offered a sponsorship, from the Stern family no less?"
"...Yeah?"
Owen's father shook his head before taking another sip of coffee as his mom sighed, and I was suddenly beginning to really regret that I hadn't just gone with Owen. The conversation was not going how I had wanted, although I did feel like I was learning more about Owen.
Mostly, that he wasn't nearly as open with his family as I would have assumed. I didn't understand why though, since he seemed close to both his mom and dad and had nothing but praise for them both, despite the fact that his dad felt rather distant and stern, although I suspected that was just his default state since neither Owen or his mom seemed to pay it any mind.
"I take it he didn't accept the sponsorship?" his dad asked, and I shook my head in response. "Why in Arceus' name would he do that? Considering his goal of someday being our gym leader, the backing of a family like that is instrumental."
"It's kind of a long story, and somewhat my fault…" I explained hesitantly. "I don't think it's my place to say though. I feel like I'm digging him into a deep hole here, and I'm sure he has his reasons for keeping some things private."
I took a big swig of my coffee, realizing that this might not have been a great idea and wanting to get going before I said more things that could get Owen in trouble.
"Of course, he'll tell us when he's ready. We didn't mean to put you on the spot like that," Owen's mom said reassuringly before turning to her husband and giving him a look. "We won't say a word, isn't that right dear?"
He grumbled something, but slightly nodded in resignation before taking another sip of his coffee.
"On another note, I wanted to thank you," Owen's mother said seriously. "For doing what you could to save his team. He's trying his best to stay positive, but I can tell he's devastated by what happened. If he'd lost his whole team, especially Bronson, I fear it might have broken his spirit to the point he abandoned his dreams."
"I'm not fully convinced that hasn't happened," I admitted with a sigh. "When I brought up traveling plans after the lockdown ended, he said we'd talk about it later. It sort of sounds like he isn't planning to continue journeying, at least not with me."
"Just give him some time, I'm sure he'll come around. The fact that he's still talkative and sticking to his routine is a good sign. If he'd have slept in today, then I'd have been worried. But he's still got most of his spirit, wounded as it is."
"I hope you're right," I said earnestly before finishing my coffee and standing up with a stretch, ready to join Owen.
"I think having you around is helping a lot. Seriously, thank you. For looking after our son on his journey, and for being a good friend to him."
"He hardly needs me to look after him," I snorted. "He's got more badges than me, and he beat me when we battled. You should have seen him in Fiery Path, he…" I trailed off, realizing that telling them about Owen facing down against a huge, wild Camerupt probably was yet another thing I would regret saying.
"Well, let's just say he's had my back a lot more than I've had his," I decided to summarize vaguely, specifically thinking of Preston but deciding it not worth going into. "I'm not sure what he's told you, but he's the only reason either of us have our teams. If he hadn't tackled that Rocket and made an opening, we'd all be out our Pokémon. Hell, if he'd been the one with his Pokémon and had been able to go into the back room, he might have stopped them all together. I was too weak and scared to do anything but stall and inconvenience them."
"We know what happened. He scares me to death sometimes when he lets his strong moral compass get him into trouble, but we couldn't be prouder. He hasn't wanted to talk about it with us, but we saw the interview he did. Last time we'll ever have Hoenn Today on in this household, let me tell you! But he credited you as the reason things didn't end up as bad as they could have. So did Nurse Joy and quite a few others. Give yourself some credit."
I frowned and shook my head as I was about to object, but Owen's dad seemed to sense where I was about to go and chose that moment to interject by holding up a hand.
"You ended up in the hospital young man," he said reproachfully. "Don't think for a second that you didn't do enough, and you better not blame yourself for what happened. You did what you could, and you paid a heavy price for it. Life is too short to wonder about what-ifs. You're just a kid, and you're what – a month or two into your journey? There was an elite-level ranger and a gym leader there, and they struggled against the Rockets. The fact that you're here right now and your team is alive is a small miracle. Most people wouldn't have even considered putting themselves in that kind of situation, let alone actually do it. Hold your head high son, you're a hero."
I forced a smile. "I appreciate that, but I really don't feel like one. I wish I could have done more, and I'm hoping I'll be more prepared if something like that ever happens again. I already had one run-in with a Rocket before that, but I guess it wasn't quite as much of a wake-up call as this time. Speaking of which, I have a workout to get to, and I think Owen is going to get me started on learning how to fight today. Thanks for the coffee, Mr. Adler."
"I'm not sure what you've got planned for the future, but you'd make a great ranger someday from what I know of you. Owen too, if he ever gets his head out of the clouds. Keep it in mind, and let me know if you ever decide to give it a try. It's a good gig, and more exciting than you might think."
I nodded, stifling a frown and deciding to keep my mouth shut about what he'd just said about Owen as I put my coffee cup in the kitchen sink and made my way out the door. I wasn't a fan of him implying that Owen was being unrealistic in his goal of being the gym leader, but his parents had been nonetheless supportive of him from what I could tell. I idly wondered if he'd ever said anything like that directly to Owen, but wouldn't have been surprised either way. His father struck me as a very blunt, pragmatic, and opinionated man when he actually cared enough to speak, but I could imagine that Owen wouldn't let the opinion of others so easily sway him, even if it was those he loved or respected.
All things considered, I wasn't a fan of how that conversation had gone. Although Owen's parents seemed to enjoy it, I felt bad about accidentally revealing some things to them that he'd clearly wanted to keep to himself for some reason.
On the bright side, I felt like I had a better feel for Owen's parents. I really liked his mom, but his dad… well, I was going to do my best to withhold judgment. For the time being, I could add putting my foot in my mouth to the list of things that training would help distract me from.
I fell to my knees, panting in a desperate attempt to catch my breath. Owen once again lapped me, but this time stopped to jog in place in yet another attempt to offer some motivational words to keep me going.
But I wasn't going to bite, not again. I'd truly pushed myself past my limits, and my still aching body was now in open rebellion.
"Come on… you gotta… push… Two more… laps… Get up…" he panted through labored breath, something I'd never actually seen from Owen. Even he was pushing himself harder than normal, especially considering he'd started before me, but unlike me he was in adequate shape to do so.
My lungs burned so badly that I couldn't even muster a verbal response. The best I could offer was a shake of my head before rolling onto my back and sprawling out, not even having the strength to wipe the sweat out of my eyes.
"This is… a battle… of will… not strength… One more… come on… let's go…"
Owen was always an excellent motivator, but historically he could tell when I was truly spent and wouldn't push me to the brink of death. But during this session he was being unusually persistent, bordering on relentless. As much as I wanted to keep going, my mind was made up. I was done, and there wasn't a single thing he could say to keep me going. I was honestly shocked that I hadn't lost consciousness yet, because I'd been feeling light-headed for the last five or so minutes, and I knew that if I got back up to continue running it would be a matter of seconds until darkness overcame me, not minutes.
I didn't even dignify Owen with a response, deciding to try the age-old strategy of ignoring a problem until it went away. He kept saying things to try to convince me to go on, but I had become acutely aware of the sound of my head's blood pounding away and it was all I could hear.
At some point, he gave up on trying to convince me and continued his run. It took me a couple of minutes before I could muster the strength to sit up and wipe the sweat from my eyes enough to open them, and when I did Owen was still running with an exhausted, sleeping Omar clinging to his back. He hadn't just been pushing me – even Omar had done an impressive amount of physical activity, especially by his standards. In fact, when I'd arrived Owen had Omar swimming, something I didn't even know the Pokémon could do. He'd also managed to get Omar to crawl to him a few times, as well as having him do something resembling pull-ups on his outstretched arm as he did a sort of lateral hold. I'd seen Omar do exercises before, but never to the extent I had today, so I wasn't at all surprised he was fast asleep.
As for Owen, he was pushing himself hard, and it was mildly concerning. What truly concerned me though was seeing Misha still doing laps. Sure, her stubby legs weren't cut out for the activity and she wasn't covering much ground, but she was doing laps nonetheless and was looking even worse than I likely just had. Her steps were irregular, she was swaying a lot and bordered on stumbling, and even from where I was I could tell she was panting heavily.
Too out of breath and far away to try yelling, I waved my arms wildly despite the fact it hurt after doing so many push-ups, eventually getting Owen's attention and pointing at Misha in an attempt to get him to realize that she needed to be told to stop. It didn't take a genius to realize that her body was about to give out even if her desire to continue still burned strong, and I was sure that she wasn't going to stop until she collapsed or Owen stopped his jog, and I had no doubt which would come first.
He gave Misha a quick glance, but at the time she was essentially on the other end of the track from him so he probably didn't fully grasp what kind of state she was in. It could have also been because he was running and his blood was pumping, and at least for me that made my vision pulse and slightly blur, so perhaps he wasn't able to pick out the little details that I had been able to see that made it obvious she was pushing herself to hard.
At least, that's roughly what I believe now. But at the time, after Owen just kept running after looking back at me with a big grin and waving for me to join in as though saying 'Yeah, Misha is still going strong so why aren't you?', my anger spiked and got the best of me. I was fully convinced he was taking things way too far – it was one thing to push me as hard as he had, but it was a trainer's job to know when their Pokémon were being too stubborn and needed to be told to rest. I'd encountered something like that a few times in the past with Duran and Apollo and had thankfully been watching close enough that I could stop them before things got out of hand, but they had never gotten anywhere near as close to fainting as Misha currently seemed.
If I was thinking rationally, I'd have probably thought to give Owen the benefit of the doubt that he simply hadn't seen what I could. Perhaps I'd have questioned if it was my place to interject myself into the situation – after all, Owen was much more an expert on physical conditioning than me, and it wouldn't exactly be unreasonable to think that trainers might have different acceptable limits of exhaustion they felt comfortable allowing their Pokémon to reach. My team had never exactly 'hit' that limit, and would it really be so terrible if Misha reached hers? She was probably just as motivated as Owen, and it wasn't like he was demanding that she continue. She was doing it all on her own, even if him continuing to run was surely a major factor.
Normally, I'd have considered all of this. I did later of course, but in that moment none of that crossed my mind. I can't fully articulate why the scene pushed my buttons so hard and instantly sent me over the edge, but the fact remains that it did. I felt like Owen was being irresponsible and bordering on cruel, and it hit me particularly hard as his friend and a fellow trainer. Rational thought went out the window and I acted purely on instinct, driven by unbridled fury and unparalleled disappointment in what I saw as total negligence from somebody I deeply respected. I briefly forgot just how exhausted and sore I was as I mustered every last bit of strength I'd regained in the last few minutes to force myself to my feet and sprint toward Owen as fast as I could manage.
Seeing what must have looked like me pushing myself to continue, he grinned and jogged in place for a few seconds for me to catch up. Looking back, I'm sure he must have mistakenly thought that the scowl on my face and my rapid approach was me fighting past my limits to rejoin him. But I couldn't remember having ever been as angry as I was in that moment, and as I reached him I launched off my back foot to put my entire weight into driving my fist as hard as I could right into his stupid grin that only served to piss me off even more than I already was.
He hadn't been expecting it, and thanks to a combination of me putting everything I had into the punch and his feet not being firmly planted on the ground as he continued jogging in place the impact was enough to knock both of us to the ground, sending Omar tumbling. I realized this as I sat up to prepare for another hit, but seeing that served to immediately drain any remaining anger that I felt.
"D-dude!" Owen stammered in shock as he sat up, clutching a hand over his face as blood began to drip to the ground.
My adrenaline and anger subsiding, I was once again winded and exhausted, my burning lungs and aching body returning with a vengeance, so I didn't offer any verbal response as I panted for breath and let myself fall back onto the ground once again. All I could manage was to shakily point in Misha's general direction again, hoping he'd finally catch on as I closed my eyes and tried to focus on catching my breath.
Unbeknownst to me, he hadn't seen that gesture and was giving probing touches to his face to assess the damage. Though I couldn't hear it over the sound of my pounding head and labored breathing, Misha had seen all this transpire and was charging straight at me, clumsy yet determined.
I really should have expected it. It makes sense after all – if a Pokémon sees their trainer get attacked, it's only natural that they would jump to their defense. But that didn't even cross my mind in the moment, and I soon received a Headbutt to the side of my ribs from Misha, knocking the already limited wind out of me. I rolled over and clutched at my side, gasping in a desperate attempt to get air back in my lungs.
She probably would had been able to crack a rib if she hadn't been so exhausted and unsteady on her feet, despite the fact that she probably only weighed about ten pounds or so. I'd seen the force she could put into her Headbutts before, and it wasn't too hard to imagine the attack doing substantially more damage than simply knocking the wind out of me and causing a fairly nasty bruise as it soon would.
I didn't even get a chance to see if she was going in for another attack, because when my diaphragm finally began to cooperate and I was able to get a proper breath of air, I opened my eyes and quickly realized that Misha wasn't the only one whose wrath I'd incurred.
I briefly saw Omar crawling towards us at what was a very impressive speed for him, but he still had a bit of distance to cover before he would actually to reach us. I also saw the moment he pieced together that I had attacked his trainer, and when his look went from one of concern and confusion to rage. I didn't even know a Slakoth could look angry, but he bared his teeth at me and narrowed his eyes as he doubled his efforts to reach us, letting loose a guttural bellow as he changed his course from Owen to me.
That's when it happened. Omar began to glow a brilliant white, and what was a fairly lackluster roar in the grand scheme of intimidation displays I'd seen grew deeper and louder as he began to grow in size. His crawl morphed into a scamper as his limbs grew and he began making use of his back legs for the first time, and my already quickly beating heart began to pound furiously in my chest as I realized that I was about to truly be in danger.
I forced myself upright, kicking my feet and pulling myself backward with wobbly arms as I did my best to shuffle away from the glowing figure that continued to gain speed toward me, Omar's now truly hair-raising roar leaving no doubt as to his intentions.
"O-wen!" I choked out as I desperately tried to put some distance between me and the Vigoroth that was revealed as the glowing began to subside. Owen called out to Omar, trying to get his attention, but it was a lost cause and Omar was completely tunnel-visioned on me.
My only saving grace was that Omar's drastically changed body proportions were new and unfamiliar, so although he was already much faster than he had been as a Slakoth he was still rather clumsy and uncoordinated compared to how he would be after getting used to his new body.
Thankfully, Owen must have seen the writing on the wall that I was about to be mauled by Omar, and considering his now very impressive claws and fangs it would not have been a pretty sight had he reached me in his enraged state. Just as Omar closed in on me and snarled while raising an arm to take a swipe at me, he disappeared into a beam of light as Owen recalled him in the nick of time.
"Arceus…" Owen said at a loss for words, staring down at the Pokéball in one hand while his other was held over his still bleeding lip.
"You… idiot," I panted as planted my hands on the ground behind me and leaned back, rattled and exhausted.
"Me?! What the hell was that about, dude?" Owen said before spitting some blood out.
I gritted my teeth and pointed over at Misha, and he finally started to understand after taking in the state of her.
She had put everything she had left into the Headbutt into my side, meager as it was. She'd finally succumbed to her exhaustion and fainted, and was now laying on the ground.
"Look!" I half-shouted, feeling my anger boiling up. Although I was short of breath and my lungs hurt, I took a deep breath just so I could lay into him properly. "You don't get to take your frustrations out on your team, Owen! I would have ended up the same way if you'd had your way!"
"I didn't realize…" Owen trailed off, walking over to Misha and scooping her up in his arms with a pained look in his eyes.
"It's your job to realize! I shouldn't need to point it out, and Misha shouldn't be at the point of collapsing from exhaustion because you're too focused on getting a good workout in."
"...You're right. I fucked up," Owen admitted as he recalled her before allowing himself to fall back and finally take a rest as he felt at his face. "I deserved that. Solid punch by the way, busted my lip right open. Thanks for not aiming for the nose."
I sighed in frustration and resignation, taking a seat beside him as I took in the scene. There was blood in the grass, my hand and side hurt, and Owen had a fair bit of blood around his mouth, hand, and shirt. I lifted up my shirt to inspect at where Misha had given me a Headbutt to prod my tender ribs, wincing in pain but pretty sure nothing was broken.
"What happened?" Owen asked in confusion, seeing me wince as I checked myself over.
"Misha didn't take kindly to me punching you, so she delivered a Headbutt as her last conscious act. Thankfully, she was on her last legs and couldn't put more into it."
"She attacked you?" Owen asked in a mixture of disbelief and horror.
"Naturally – she saw me attack her trainer. I'm just glad you stopped Omar, because that would have been bad. I'm definitely on both of their shit lists, so that's great," I sighed.
"Don't worry about that, I'll own up to it. It was my fault, after all. She's always done her best to match me and Bronson when working out, but I usually let her do her own thing since her body isn't exactly suited for most of our exercises. She just does her own interpretations until she gets bored, but she's never pushed herself that hard."
"I've been here for over an hour, and I was late. Not to mention, you've been pushing yourself a lot harder today than usual. She just wanted to keep up, but we can't all keep up with you Owen."
"Come to think of it, she's been a little off ever since I told her about everything. Maybe she's trying to step up, since…" he trailed off, looking decidedly dejected. As bad as I was at comforting people I knew that I needed to try, so I grabbed his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze.
"Bronson will be back soon, and you shouldn't give up on Bruno and Roxy. They're out there somewhere, I'm sure the League is doing everything they can to get them back," I tried to reassure him as confidently as I could, despite having my own doubts.
"I hope so, I really do… If I ever get my hands on one of those Rockets again, I swear I'll…" he growled, leaving the implicit threat lingering in the air.
"We'll both be ready for that day," I said resolutely.
"We'll be ready," Owen repeated with a nod, no longer bothering to stop the blood that dribbled off his chin and onto his shirt.
"Let's try to get you cleaned up, you look like shit. Nurse Joy is not going to be happy with us, and I just got my trainer record wiped clean too," I groaned as I got to my feet.
"It's fine, I'll just say I tripped or something," he said as he made his way to the water fountain.
"They have cameras in here," I pointed out, eyeing the small black orbs in the ceiling. "I'm guessing she's too busy to watch them live or she'd probably have already kicked us out, but if she reviews them, we're both hosed."
Owen froze for a moment to process what I was saying before looking back at me with horror as realization washed over him. The reality was, me punching him was probably the least of our problems – he had been borderline neglectful in allowing Misha to push herself so hard, and his Pokémon had technically both tried to attack me, one successfully so. That kind of thing was not taken lightly, and with video evidence of it there was almost surely to be some serious repercussions if she saw what happened.
And so, we both shifted our efforts into cleaning up the evidence of what had transpired the best we could, praying we could somehow prevent the already messy situation from spiraling into something much worse. It was then that I realized that what I'd hoped would be a relaxing lockdown spent getting to know Owen better and enjoying the beautiful scenery that Dewford had to offer was likely to be anything but.
A/N: Sorry it's so late, FFN is doing FFN things and was completely destroying all my formatting, so I had to manually do it... Fun. I'm not a huge fan of how the first-half of this chapter came out so sorry if it was boring, but I kind of glossed over Daniel's introduction to Dewford so it wouldn't take up the whole chapter.
Unfortunately, this author's note comes bearing bad news. It's been a good run and I wish I didn't have to do this, but sometimes you have to know when to call it.
We just recently passed the one-year mark of this fic being published. Kinda crazy, right? For over a year, I've managed to push out chapters every week without exception, but unfortunately, with a pained heart, I must announce that is coming to an end. It's my birthday and I am going camping so that I may relax, fish, eat s'mores, touch grass, and enjoy the sun now that it isn't a deadly laser constantly over 100 degrees.
That's right, we're breaking our year-long streak and skipping a week. I know, it's devastating news completely warranting the suspenseful build-up, but it must be done.
…What, did you think it was something worse? Silly you – this fic isn't going anywhere, we've still got lots of unfinished business to get to! See you in two weeks, stay cute!
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