Pacing over the marble floor, Wallace chewed at his fingernail, a habit until now he thought he had broken. He could practically hear Steven scolding him for the action. Grant's news had his stomach in knots as the Sinnoh league members chaotically, in his opinion, put together a rescue team and search party. He turned on his heels, almost knocking over a potted plant that likely belonged to Bertha, with another sigh. Why was this taking so long? His breath caught in his throat when a firm hand stopped his new attempt at getting his daily steps in.

Lucian's tone was surprisingly light, considering the darkness in his eyes as he spoke, "Stop that. We will have to replace the floor if you keep that up."

Wallace brushed away the outstretched hand, muttering, "Easier said than done." Despite Lucian's good intentions, uncertainty continued to cloud his mind.

"Wallace, we will find them." Cynthia tilted her head to the side, concern flickering in her eyes "Grant is with the search team now."

Wallace drew in a long, slow breath and locked eyes with Cynthia. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being unfair to both her and Lucian. Somewhere down there, one of her gym leaders was trapped, and he couldn't ignore that fact. He nodded silently in gratitude before sinking onto the couch. Despite the champion's comforting words, he found it impossible to remain calm. His knee bounced restlessly, and the clock seemed to taunt him, refusing to move any faster no matter how hard he stared at it.

An anxious glance around the room revealed Flint absently flipping through the numerous Netflix recommendations on the screen. Meanwhile, Aaron was attempting to brew tea, but it appeared that he was spending more time wiping up spilled water from the floor. Bertha remained absorbed in her book, her gaze unwavering from the page since his arrival. Lucian, with his purple eyes concealed behind his glasses, fidgeted restlessly while attempting to read. Cynthia intermittently glanced at her phone screen before setting it back on the arm of the couch, observing Flint's futile attempts to select a movie before repeating the cycle.

Aaron's muffled curse revealed that he had spilled the water yet again. Wallace turned his attention back to the clock. Two minutes had slipped by, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong with the clock. He reached for his own phone, purposefully disregarding the twenty missed texts and twelve missed calls. To his disbelief, the time on his phone matched the time displayed on the wall clock.

Why had he let Steven talk him into going to Sinnoh? If they were still at home then this wouldn't be happening now! A new throbbing in his head momentarily tugged his thoughts away from the spiral, but he shoved it to the back of his mind. It wasn't bad enough to worry over. What was becoming more annoying was the temperature in the room. He was pretty sure Glacia kept it warmer for her ice types. What if he never got to see Steven again?

The thought hurt.

Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

His heart pounded in his chest, the rapid, thrumming cadences echoing in the silence of the room. The cold seemed to seep into his bones, but no one else appeared to be affected by it. All he could think about was seeing Steven again as if that was the only thing that could chase away the chill.

Wallace did his best to swallow back the bubbling unease in his stomach. Was the world tilting around him? He was pretty sure that he hadn't knocked over Bertha's plant earlier in his pacing.

"Wallace? Are you alright?"

The words reverberated oddly in his ears. The dawning realization that he couldn't identify the person talking was even more unsettling than the strange spinning sensation in the room.

"He looks a bit pale."

Did he? His breath caught in his throat as a sharp, constricting pain surged through his chest. Confusion and fear gripped him as he struggled to understand what was happening to him. Another wave of excruciating pain doubled him over, suffocating him under its icy grip. His trembling hands clawed at the once comforting fabric of his shirt as he fought to keep control.

"Wallace, look at me."

Cynthia came into his line of sight, her concerned expression evident as she knelt in front of him. Lucian stood just behind her, mirroring her worried look. Aaron's sympathetic gaze caught his eye, while Bertha seemed to be anticipating something from Cynthia.

"No, at me."

The soft words captured his attention, pulling him back to her intense, stormy eyes. A queasy feeling churned in his chest as he recognized the unfamiliar sensation. It was fear. He knew he should be with Steven, doing everything he could to help them. To save them.

Cynthia placed her hand gently on Wallace's quivering shoulder, her voice filled with urgency. "Wallace, I need you to take deep breaths," she said, her eyes darting to Lucian and Aaron standing behind her. However, Wallace was too lost in his own thoughts to register her words.

He felt like he was underwater as he watched Cynthia take a deep breath before letting it slowly out. He felt something warm around his shoulders from behind. He tilted his head, numbly surprised to find Lucian wrapping a blanket around him. Neither of them spoke, but Lucian was back behind Cynthia as quickly as he had appeared.

"Focus on me." Cynthia repeated the breathing motions "Do it with me."

Wallace reluctantly complied with her request, his mind consumed by the overwhelming fear that his boyfriend was missing and possibly dead. As he tried to follow her instructions, he felt his breaths become shallow and shaky, holding onto each one as if it were his last.

"Good. Again." Cynthia praised the forced curve at the corner of her lips resembling a smile.

In. Out. In. Out. Once more. Again. Eventually, breathing became easier and he could take a deep breath. He had to admit that Cynthia was right.

"There. See, everything is going to be okay," Cynthia returned to the couch.

"But they…" Wallace's voice trailed off, his mind unable to form the words he feared to acknowledge. What if the rescue team didn't arrive in time? Time was now their enemy, ticking away relentlessly. How long had it taken Grant to make contact with someone? What if...

"Why don't you go get some air," Bertha suggested in a tone that left little room for discussion "A walk might do you some good."

"Bertha is right." Flint paused his search to join the conversation.

Aaron carefully set a steaming mug of tea on the table in front of Wallace before sinking into the chair positioned across the room. With a hint of apprehension in his voice, he murmured, "We will locate them."

Arahbo: As always I hope you enjoyed! If you did let me know your thoughts in the comments! See you next chapter!