A thrill surged through Steven's chest as he guided Grant and Roark into the yawning maw of the cavern. Memories of his discovery flooded back; it had been during a trip to Sinnoh a few years prior. At the time, he was on a quest for rare stones, his heart set on uncovering nature's hidden treasures. It was amidst the rocky outcrops that he stumbled upon this dark entryway, leading to uncharted depths.
Now, as he stood over the cavern's entrance, he recalled how, during that last expedition, the thick veil of shadows had loomed ominously, swallowing up all sources of light and evoking a primal fear of the unknown. Without the proper gear, he had felt helpless against the oppressive darkness that threatened to consume him whole, leaving him to wrestle with the allure and danger that lay just beyond the threshold.
The previous expedition had been a harrowing experience, cloaked in an oppressive inky darkness that had disoriented him, making him feel as if he were teetering on the brink of an endless abyss. This time, however, he was adequately prepared for the descent, equipped with all the necessary gear and the invaluable company of the gym leaders. With a firm grip, Steven gave the rope one last, resolute tug, feeling the reassuring strength of the knot beneath his fingers. Satisfied it was secure, he turned to the two gym leaders, who were diligently securing their own lines, their expressions a mix of determination and anticipation.
"We're going to descend roughly three-quarters of the way," he announced, his voice steady despite the formidable task ahead. "We'll reach a large cave entrance—big enough for me to stand comfortably, so you shouldn't have any issues, Roark." The air was thick with anticipation, and around them, the call of adventure echoed softly against the walls of the crevice they were about to conquer.
"That means I have to duck, huh." Grant sighed as he secured his own rope. He took a moment to admire the view of the cavern.
"We will see. You might be okay. Ready?" Steven said, glancing back at his gear for one last reassuring check before he cautiously lowered himself over the jagged ledge. His heart raced with a mix of excitement and apprehension as he waited for the other two to follow. He felt a steady confidence in Grant's ability to navigate the rugged terrain with him; after all, they had braved similar situations countless times. However, a flicker of concern crossed his mind as he glanced at Roark. The young gym leader stood at the precipice, his eyes betraying a hint of hesitation that contrasted sharply with his innate curiosity. Steven could sense Roark's nervousness, a stark reminder of how different this adventure felt for him.
"Just take it slow. We aren't in a hurry." He urged his companions, trying to set a relaxed pace. Grant merely hummed in agreement, matching Steven's stride with an easy gait, while Roark, on the other hand, was clearly having a rough time. His eyes were fixed intently on the rock beneath him, each step a careful negotiation of the uneven terrain.
"Roark? You holding up alright?" Steven called out, concerned as he observed Roark's struggle to maintain his balance against the silver slab.
"Yes, I'm fine," Roark replied, though his breath came in short, labored gasps. "Sorry, I know I'm slowing you down." The frustration in his voice was evident, but he pressed on, determined to not let the others down.
"No, remember, we're in no rush," Steven reassured, his voice echoing slightly in the dimly lit corridor. The walls, slick with moisture, glistened under the faint light, creating a treacherous surface that threatened to send them slipping. He could see why Roark struggled, his footfalls hesitant and careful. An uneasy silence settled over the trio, broken only by Grant's sporadic observations about their surroundings, each comment punctuating the stillness. Despite Steven and Grant's deliberate pace, lingering just ahead to avoid losing Roark completely, he continued to lag behind, grappling with the slippery terrain. As they continued their descent, a heavy knot coiled in Steven's stomach, tightening with each passing moment. An unsettling sensation washed over him as if invisible hands were squeezing his insides. He frequently shot sideways glances at Grant, searching for any sign that his friend shared the same unease. Steven was aware that he controlled their descent's speed, and instinctively, he slowed even further his heart racing.
He halted their descent for a moment, absorbing the scene around him, his gaze lingering on Roark, who tried to move with a steady confidence. After a brief pause, he turned to check on Grant, their eyes meeting briefly before Steven resumed the slow descent. Every few feet, he repeated this ritual—pausing, assessing, and then continuing downward. Yet the persistent feeling nagged at him, an insistent reminder that something was amiss in the stillness of their descent. Where were the wild Pokemon?
"You good over there Steven?" Grant's voice shook him from his thoughts and he jumped slightly. He took note of the gray pebbles that trickled down, barely missing the trio and only adding to the unease in his heart.
"Yeah. Everything is fine." He uttered the words, hoping they resonated with truth, though a suffocating wave of anxiety gnawed at the edges of his mind. The temptation to call out Metagross tugged at him, yet the thought of putting his partner in the cramped, enclosing space was unsettling. It would be uncomfortable for them both. Just as he began to drown in his own thoughts, a sharp, unexpected snap echoed around him, followed by a deep, ominous rumble that seemed to vibrate through the rock. Before he could fully process what was happening, Roark was plummeting toward him. Instinct kicked in as he lunged forward, his hand grasping Roark's wrist with a fierce urgency, his fingers tightening around the cold fabric of Roark's glove as he fought to steady his friend against the impending chaos.
"I've got you." He managed as he pulled Roark back up "I need you to hold on." He instructed calmly while moving to the right to give Roark more secure footing. "Grant, help me out."
Steven took a deep breath, pushing the knot of anxiety deep within him as he concentrated on steadying his trembling hands. Grant gripped Roark's arm firmly, his face set in determination. With a swift motion, Steven leaned down, the cool metal of the carabiner biting into his palm as he maneuvered to clip Roark's harness to his own. His fingers fumbled for a moment, but with a decisive click, he secured it, the sound echoing against the quiet surroundings.
He glanced at Grant, a silent signal passing between them, and Grant slowly released his hold. Steven's gaze was keen as he observed Roark shifting his weight, his muscles tense as he searched for a stable position. Once Steven was satisfied that Roark had found his balance and wasn't in danger of falling, he unfastened his own harness, a sense of unease washing over him.
"Steven, what on earth are you doing?" Roark exclaimed, his voice thick with urgency and his eyes wide with alarm. The frantic quiver in his tone revealed the depth of his concern as he took an uneasy step closer.
"I will be fine," he reassured, his voice steady despite the uncertainty around him. His gaze lingered on the rough, crumbling wall below, its surface marked with faint reminders of past wear and tear, as he searched for footholds in the shadows.
"No way," Grant exclaimed, his brow furrowing in concern. "You can't climb this on your own. To be honest, I'm not sure I could handle it either. We need to turn back and regroup."
Steven couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he assessed the daunting wall before him. Its surface glistened with moisture, and the darkness that enveloped it added an ominous tone to the already challenging climb. Free climbing under such conditions was precarious enough, but soloing felt like flirting with danger. Disappointment settled over him like a heavy fog.
"Yeah, I agree," he finally replied, his voice steady despite the adrenaline thrumming in his veins. "We should head back. It's too risky." He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the tension. "I'll follow your lead." With one last glance at the slick, treacherous surface, he turned, ready to retrace their steps into the safety of the familiar terrain.
"Roark, make sure to stick close to Steven," Grant instructed, his voice firm and unwavering, as he began to navigate the jagged rocks. He paused for a moment, casting a protective glance over the two of them, ensuring his presence provided a sense of security as they continued their ascent.
Fate was not on their side. Not long after they began climbing, Steven lost his balance and slipped. He felt Roark grab his arm to steady him, but they both were using far more energy than before as he struggled to help Steven pull himself up. After climbing another four feet, Steven slipped again, but this time Roark wasn't able to catch him in time, their gloved hands grazing against each other.
Everything unfolded in what felt like the blink of an eye. Grant's voice cut through the rising cacophony, yet the urgency of his words was swallowed by the chaos that surrounded them. Steven caught a fleeting glimpse of Grant, his face etched with determination, struggling to pull Roark closer to the precarious safety of the wall as jagged rocks, dislodged from above, cascaded down like a rain of deadly projectiles. Just as Steven plunged into the enveloping darkness, an unexpected sensation filled him—his body felt almost weightless as if he were suspended in time amidst the turmoil.
He didn't fall far, but the abrupt impact with the unforgiving rock below sent shock waves through his body. The cavern's depths were closer than he had anticipated, dark and damp, with shadows clinging to the jagged walls. Just as he braced himself, a cascade of heavy stones tumbled down, resonating like thunder in the confined space above him.
Once the dust settled, Steven lay still, trapped beneath the rubble. Pain radiated through every inch of him, a sharp and relentless ache that was unlike anything he had ever endured. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing sensation, he forced the words out, his voice echoing in the oppressive silence. "Grant, Roark, are you alive?"
Roark's voice trembled as he was the first to speak, a mixture of uncertainty and fear threading through his words. "I'm fine," he replied, though the slight quiver suggested otherwise. "At least, I think so."
His voice echoed nearby, a haunting reminder that he hadn't landed far from where they had been. Anticipation coiled in the air as he strained to hear Grant's response, but silence stretched out uncomfortably. "Grant?" he called, his voice laced with concern, the stillness amplifying his unease.
"I don't see him." Roark squinted against the darkness, barely making out Steven's limp form under the rocks.
Steven lies in the cavern, the heavy silence wrapping around him like a thick fog. Dust and echoes lingered in the air as his mind raced, disjointed thoughts colliding in a whirlwind of panic. The cave had caved in, its once-sturdy walls now a chaotic jumble of jagged stones and debris. His heart pounded wildly in his chest as he processed the horrifying truth—Grant was missing, swallowed by the dark embrace of the collapse. Fear gripped him as he imagined his friend, trapped beneath the unforgiving weight of the rocks, helpless and alone. Like he was now.
Steven had unfortunately faced the terrifying threat of cave-ins before, and the familiar rush of fear washed over him, just as it had the first time. He inhaled deeply, the cool air filling his lungs as he slowly propped himself up on one elbow. Panic clawed at his chest like a wild animal when he realized the sharp, searing pain in his legs came from the heavy, unyielding rocks pinning him down. He was trapped, and would have to rely on others for rescue; the grim reality settled heavily in his mind. The pain was undeniable, a throbbing reminder of his precarious situation.
In that moment of despair, an unexpected glow pierced through the oppressive darkness, illuminating the area where Roark knelt on the ground. It was the soft, blue light of his phone screen, casting an ethereal glow that contrasted sharply with the surrounding shadows, offering a flicker of hope amid the chaos.
"I will try to call him," Roark said, determination evident in his voice. His fingers danced across the screen of his phone, the soft glow lighting up his focused expression as he swiftly navigated through his contacts.
"I'd be shocked if you find any service down here," Steven said, his voice unsteady as he took a shaky breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "Honestly, I'm not even sure where we've landed." The uncertainty in his tone echoed the dim, unfamiliar surroundings, making the situation feel even more disorienting.
"Looks like I do," Roark replied, his voice tinged with a glimmer of hope. They sat in tense anticipation, the air thick with unspoken words as the phone rang, each chime echoing in the stillness. A palpable silence surrounded them, the weight of their shared uncertainty hanging heavy. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they heard Grant's voice emerge from the receiver—muffled and robotic, yet unmistakably familiar—piercing through the tension that had enveloped them.
"Are you two alright?" Grant's concerned voice crackled through the small device, the sound infused with an urgency that echoed in the quiet atmosphere.
"I am alive" Steven managed through clenched teeth. The more he was able to move the worse the pain was.
"You're not okay, though," Grant stated firmly, his voice edged with concern. Steven, trapped and frustrated, nodded slightly even though Grant couldn't see the gesture. "I'm stuck under the rocks," he admitted, the weight of his predicament pressing down on him both physically and emotionally.
"Roark, wht abt y-y..u"
"The signal must be weak," Roark said, glancing at Steven with a furrowed brow. He took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm fine, but it feels like we're stuck here. It appears to be some kind of cavern or something."
"I'm honestly amazed you managed to get a signal at all down here," Steven murmured, tilting his head back against the cool, damp rock wall. The faint sound of a sigh drifted through the musty air, signaling Grant's response. The other man paused for a moment as if gathering his thoughts before speaking again.
"Let's focus on getting you guys out of there."
Steven forced his heavy eyelids apart, the world around him coming into focus in a haze. He watched as Roark, struggling against the weight of his own body, gradually pushed himself upright with a tired grunt. The younger man's face was contorted in pain, the effects of the fall evident in the way he winced. As Roark shifted and began to clear the jagged rocks that surrounded him, a sharp gasp escaped his lips, the sudden jolt of agony shooting through his leg like wildfire. He steadied himself, breathing deeply, trying to shake off the throbbing pain.
"What hurts?" Roark inquired, his voice trembling ever so slightly, revealing a hint of concern that tugged at the edges of his composure. Curious eyes searched for answers, reflecting his genuine empathy.
"I think it's my knee," he gasped, wincing as Roark grasped his arm, hoisting him upright and leaning him against a sturdy rock. With a deep, steadying breath, he turned his attention to his toes, carefully assessing the pain. To his relief, it was bearable. Encouraged, he shifted his focus to his ankle, cautiously rotating it. Again, the discomfort was manageable—this was a sign of hope. But as he began to bend his knee, a sharp, searing pain coursed through him, stealing his breath and eliciting an involuntary cry of anguish.
"Okay. Yeah. This isn't good." Roark knelt beside Steven, the weight of the situation evident in his furrowed brow. He gently placed a reassuring hand on Steven's shoulder, feeling the tension radiating from him. "Grant, he's in no condition to climb like this. Even if we manage to make it out of here, he won't be able to make the ascent."
"Just sit tight. I will get help."
"We shouldn't separate," Steven bit back, his voice strained and taut. He gritted his teeth, fighting against the sharp pang of pain that shot through his leg as he attempted to shift his weight. "It's too dangerous," he added, his eyes wide with urgency, underscoring the gravity of their predicament.
"I'm pretty sure we don't have a choice in this matter," Grant said with a heavy sigh, his voice laced with frustration. Steven could practically feel the exasperated look Grant was surely giving him. "You can't climb like this." The words hung in the air, thick with unspoken worries, as Steven felt the intensity of Grant's gaze upon him through the phone, the palpable discontent swirling in the atmosphere between them.
"I have to try," Steven hissed through clenched teeth, summoning every ounce of strength he had as he slowly shifted his other leg, the strain visible in the taut muscles of his face.
"Don't be foolish," Grant shot back, his voice laced with concern. "You can't even move that leg. You likely broke something in that fall. The way you're thinking right now has me worried—did you give yourself a concussion along with those injuries?"
"Grant…" Roark said, his voice barely above a whisper, a hint of hesitation lacing his tone. "Please, don't be too hard on him." His eyes flickered with concern, revealing the weight of his words as he shifted nervously, searching for understanding in the moment.
"I'm not. He's being foolish." Grant's voice reverberated through the dimly lit cavern, the sound bouncing off the damp, jagged walls. Steven leaned wearily against the rough, cold rocks, his shoulders heavy with uncertainty. Grant's brow furrowed with concern as he added, "I'll go get help and return for you both. You'll be safe with Roark here." The murmurs of the cave faded slightly, leaving an echo of anxiety in the air.
Steven's head pounded in rhythm with the frantic beating of his heart, each pulse sending a jolt of pain through his skull. As he willed his weary body to move, a deeper ache radiated through his muscles, reminding him just how unprepared he was. Grant's words echoed in his mind—harsh but undeniably true. With a heavy sigh, he nodded in reluctant agreement, feeling the weight of his decision settle over him like a thick fog. There was no way he could climb like this. He leaned back, eyes fluttering shut, surrendering to the enveloping darkness as the swirling spots in his vision blurred and faded away. Moments later, a firm hand shook his shoulder, pulling him back from the edge of unconsciousness.
"You need to stay awake," Roark urged, his voice low but firm, concern etched across his features. He leaned in closer, examining the subtle signs of distress on Steven's face. "I think he might be right about the possibility of a concussion."
With careful tenderness, Roark brushed aside Steven's tousled bangs, revealing a small, jagged cut on his forehead. His fingertips grazed the injured skin, a soft, hesitant touch that was meant to comfort. But as he pulled back, he noticed Steven's body tense, a sharp intake of breath betraying the pain. Roark quickly withdrew his hand, a hushed apology escaping his lips for the unintended sting. The air between them felt heavy with unspoken worries as he searched Steven's eyes for reassurance.
"I understand," Steven said, nodding slowly. A sharp jolt of pain throbbed through his skull with each movement, causing him to wince slightly. The swirling spots dancing across his vision felt like a persistent distraction, but he chose to push them aside. Maybe he had indeed hit his head.
"Right, you two just sit tight." Grant's voice echoed again through Roark's phone.
"Just be careful," Steven urged, his voice barely above a whisper. He understood that arguing would lead nowhere; the weight of the moment hung heavy in the air. He received only a muffled hum of agreement from the other end before the line clicked off, plunging the cavern back into an unsettling silence.
Turning his gaze to Roark, who had become unusually quiet during their tense conversation, Steven felt an uneasy knot form in his stomach. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his tone, studying Roark's expression, which seemed to reflect the shadows around them.
"I... I should be the one asking that. You don't need to worry about me." Roark leaned back next to Steven. "That looks like it hurts," he gestured to Steven's head.
"A little," Steven admitted, his tone sincere. Roark's voice had a distant quality, echoing as he spoke, as if the words were traveling through a thick fog, growing faint and hard to grasp. The edges of his vision wobbled and blurred. He blinked hard against the dancing haze in a desperate attempt to regain his focus. It wasn't working.
"We should try to stop the bleeding." Roark's hands were already ripping the fabric and pressing it against Steven's head. His voice cut through the fog and grounded Steven once more.
Steven winced as a sharp wave of pressure surged through his head, triggering a new jolt of pain that felt like a lightning strike inside his skull. His thoughts flickered briefly to Roark and the mysterious fabric he was using—where could he have possibly found something like that? Yet, as curiosity tugged at him, another part of his mind insisted that such details were trivial compared to the more pressing concern: the extent of his injuries. The throbbing ache radiating through his body was a stark reminder of how dire his situation truly was.
"You're gonna hate me." Roark's tone indicated that he wasn't taking any pleasure in this himself.
"Hate is a strong word," Steven said with a chuckle that felt strained in the stillness around them. He couldn't help but notice the tremor in Roark's hands as they instinctively moved to rest on his knee. Even in the dim light, the glimmer of unshed tears caught his attention, revealing the deep, rich hue of Roark's cordovan eyes. The way his face pinched every time he thought he was hurting him...Steven realized he had to find a way to ease the tension hanging between them, to help Roark feel safe and grounded once more.
"Just…hang on a little longer." Roark murmured as he pressed his hands against the sides of Steven's knee "I know this hurts…"
"Understatement," Steven growled, his voice strained and low, as he fought to keep his emotions in check. His jaw clenched tightly, and a flash of frustration flickered in his eyes.
Roark felt a jolt of empathy as Steven let out a sharp yelp, his face contorting in surprise after Roark's thumbs grazed his kneecap. The sound echoed in the quiet room, and Roark instinctively inhaled, his breath catching slightly. He quickly withdrew his hands, the tension in the air palpable, and repositioned himself, settling into a cross-legged posture that felt more comfortable and at ease.
"That bad, huh?" Steven asked, leaning back into the cold rock. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale sounding strained as if he were struggling to pull in enough air. The tension in his shoulders hinted at the weight of concern pressing down on him.
"I…I don't think," Roark cleared his throat as his voice caught, recoiling back "I shouldn't…try to set your knee. I've never…I've never had to do it before." Roark lowered himself to the ground next to Steven, moving a rock to the side that he had sat on. That might leave a bruise.
"No," Steven replied, waving his hand dismissively as a hint of weariness crossed his face. "It's alright. I've regrettably had far too much practice in this."
"What do you mean?" Roark couldn't hide his curious tone as he watched Steven.
Steven captured Roark's full attention at that moment. "You know, Sidney has this annoying habit of dislocating his shoulder," he said, exhaling in exasperation. "And it's usually because he's doing something stupid."
"Oh…"Roark's gaze fell to his lap, a hint of uncertainty playing across his features. What could he possibly say in response? Though his acquaintance with Steven had been brief, he had quickly come to realize that the man was tight-lipped when it came to sharing personal insights—especially with him. The strands of silver hair at Steven's temples caught the light, drawing Roark's attention away from his swirling thoughts. With a gracious gesture, Steven extended his coat towards Roark while using his other hand to brace himself as he rose, a subtle strength visible in his posture.
"You're shaking still," Steven said simply. He wasn't sure if it was because Roark was cold or scared, but either way, he wanted to help however he could. He thought Roark looked hesitant, clearly weighing all of the options before reaching out and accepting the coat.
The pair settled into a thick silence, one that felt almost tangible in the dim light of the cavern. Each moment stretched out, filled only by the uneven sound of Steven's labored breathing and Roark's intermittent murmurs, urging him to remain alert. Time flowed strangely, minutes merging into what felt like hours, but Roark couldn't be certain. He couldn't shake the concern that crept into his thoughts as he observed the waning color of Steven's face; it had grown unnaturally pale, the shadows under his eyes darkening with fatigue. The chill in the air seemed to grip Steven tighter, making him shiver violently, yet he never voiced a single complaint. Despite the biting cold, a quiet resilience flickered in the smaller man, one that Roark admired even as worry gnawed at him.
"Hey, I know you're tired of hearing me say it, but keep your eyes open," Roark said with a firm insistence, his voice cutting through Steven's drowsiness as he fought to keep his eyelids from drooping closed once more.
"I jus'…can't thin' straigh'. Eerything," Steven drew in a shuttering breath "is just so foggy."
"Just a little longer," Roark urged, his voice steady and filled with hope. He glanced around the dimly lit room, where shadows danced on the walls, and the air felt thick with anticipation. "Grant will return any moment now. I can feel it!" His eyes sparkled with determination, trying to lift the spirits of his companion.
"Hmmm…" Steven hummed. He was too tired to think up a proper response now. He felt his eyes flutter closed and despite his best efforts, he couldn't force them open again. The darkness felt nice though. Cool against his feverish skin. Welcoming to his exhausted body. Maybe a nap wouldn't be so bad…
Arahbo:As always I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please let me know with a comment! All comments are welcome!
See you next chapter!