TRAINER ID
Name: Daniel Ingram
Badges: 3
Account: 38,859 credits
Location: Dewford Town

DANIEL'S TEAM
Trapinch - Female

OWEN'S TEAM
Shroomish (Misha) - Female
Vigoroth (Omar) - Male

By some miracle, we were able to make it out of the recreation room and through the lobby without drawing any attention to ourselves. Nurse Joy could only spare us a quick glance and didn't seem to notice anything amiss, being much too preoccupied with inputting something into her computer as she talked to an older gentleman who was at the front desk.

I considered that a major victory, because I wasn't looking forward to replacing the warning note I had just gotten it removed on my profile with a new one. As unfortunate as that would have been, it would have been nothing compared to the risk of Owen potentially getting into serious trouble if Nurse Joy had felt inclined to review the security footage. Two trainers getting into a physical 'fight' in a Pokécenter was bad enough, but Owen pushing Misha to the brink of collapse and not preventing his Pokémon from attacking an unarmed trainer would be particularly troublesome, even if I had been the one to instigate.

Owen had been able to rinse most of the blood off him, and thankfully his lip had finally stopped bleeding by the time we left, though it had a nasty cut in it. He had a few splotches of blood on his pants that luckily didn't stand out too much thanks to them being a darker color, but there wasn't much we could do about the more noticeable splotches on his shirt, so he had to take it off and keep it bunched up in his fist as we left. It wasn't too out of place for him to go shirtless though, since we were both drenched with sweat and it was clear we'd been working out.

Thankfully the cut on Owen's lip and some inflammation seemed to be the extent of his injuries, and it didn't appear that I had done anything more serious like chip a tooth or break his nose. As for me, my knuckles were a little swollen and stiff, but that was a drop in the bucket to the tenderness I felt in my side from Misha's Heabutt, which I could tell was developing into quite a bruise.

We knew we wouldn't be able to hide it from Owen's parents, who had texted Owen to tell us to hurry home before breakfast got cold on account of us taking longer than expected so we could clean up. Owen had suggested simply telling them he'd tripped, but I pointed out that it would be obvious what had happened when they saw my hand while eating. It was then that I remembered I'd mentioned to them that Owen was likely going to start teaching me how to fight today, so I recommended that we use that to our advantage.

That turned into us making a quick stop at the store so I could buy a mouthguard and fingerless sparring gloves. It wouldn't do much to explain what had happened since it was clear neither of us would have been using gear and Owen hadn't even brought any, but Owen was confident that his parents would believe that he'd coaxed me into punching him to see what I could do and experience the real thing without gear at least once.

It was dumb, but Owen knew his parents better than me and seemed convinced it would work. Given that they seemed to have the impression that Owen was a bit of a wild child, I supposed it wouldn't be too out of character for him.

As we hurriedly made our way back to Owen's house, we drew a few curious glances due to Owen's state. A couple of people who knew him approached to ask if he was alright, but he was able to brush it off easily enough, even if I did garner a few suspicious and disapproving looks from it.

To my surprise, things between me and Owen weren't nearly as tense as I'd feared it might be. We were far too focused on getting through the still somewhat sticky situation, and both seemed eager to put the event behind us.

In the spirit of that, I voiced my disappointment that we'd missed the sunrise, something I'd really been looking forward to witnessing. Owen pointed out that there were still plenty of chances in the coming days and was adamant that we needed to work out before eating breakfast, but fully agreed with my belief that it was worth seeing at least once during my stay.

By the time we got to Owen's house, it was still pretty early in the morning. I was sore and famished after what had easily been our most brutal workout session yet, but had to admit that Owen was right – it had completely taken away all the lingering achy stiffness I felt from my ordeal with the Rockets and replaced it with a more standard post-workout soreness, so at least that was something.

Owen's mom immediately started fussing over his lip upon our arrival, and her medically-trained eyes were far too observant not to notice that the slight swelling of my hand was clearly related. His parents stayed quiet as Owen spun an elaborate story about how he'd wanted me to 'show him what I could do' as a baseline before he started teaching me proper fighting technique, since we'd be starting that later in the day. I could tell Owen's father wasn't convinced, but he didn't seem to care enough to press the issue, only offering a slight shake of his head in disapproval before he went back to reading the morning paper.

Owen's mother seemed to take it at face value, making a comment about 'boys being boys'. She still saw fit to lightly scold Owen for being so reckless and not using any protective gear, but Owen insisted that it was a spur of the moment thing and that it was important for me to know what a real punch felt like before we started working with gear.

She assumed the role of nurse and refused to let us eat until after tending to both of us, although there wasn't much she could do in the grand scheme of things. Apparently if it had been any worse it would have required stitches, but thankfully she was content to let it be after Owen's insistence that some disinfectant and balm would do the job.

As for my hand, all she could really do was check that nothing was broken or fractured, which she became certain wasn't the case. She never caught onto the bruise left by Misha, which I considered another major win. I was confident that it didn't need treatment, and would have only caused our cover story to completely fall apart.

I was presented with a plate of hashbrowns, a fruit melody, and some toast that had some sort of weird yet amazing nutty butter that I was all too eager to dig into. Owen's parents had already finished their meals and our hashbrowns probably weren't as good as they would have been if not reheated, but overall it was an amazing meal, especially by my standards, so I made sure to express my sincere thanks and compliments to Owen's mom, who seemed deeply amused by Owen and I tearing into the meal like it would be our last.

All things considered, things went remarkably smoothly for a morning that could have easily been catastrophically bad. Yet as I finished my meal and was beginning to feel truly relaxed, reality and responsibility were abruptly splashed on me like a bucket of cold water.

"You have a Trapinch with you, right Daniel?" Owen's mother asked as she pulled a rubber container out of the fridge, which I could easily tell contained a variety of Pokéblocks.

"I do," I responded with a nod and slight sigh, already knowing exactly where the conversation was going and realizing that I was going to have to finally confront Trapinch one way or another.

"Do you know what kind of Pokéblocks they prefer? We always feed the Pokémon after breakfast."

I hesitated, "She's a picky eater and has very… specific tastes."

I was trying to be delicate since I remembered Owen telling me that his mother didn't eat meat and Trapinch took that to the extreme by demanding live prey. Unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, Owen's mom didn't seem to catch my meaning.

"Oh, you mean like a specific berry instead of a flavor profile? I've got quite a big selection, so I'd be surprised if she didn't like any of what I have. What does she like? If she ends up not liking any of the ones I've prepared, I could always stop by the market on my way home if she does need something specific."

"It's not quite a matter of flavor, Mrs. Adler," I sighed, glancing to Owen for help and growing slightly annoyed at the amused grin and shrug he gave me, leaving me to flounder. But considering I had just punched him, I considered it a fair play.

"Well, what do you normally feed her if not–"

"Trapinch is a carnivore, dear," Owen's father's voice cut in as he folded up his newspaper and set it aside, obviously having overheard the proceedings and decided to show me mercy.

Olivia had a moment of realization and looked as if she'd just tasted something bitter, but she quickly schooled her expression before looking at me with renewed determination. "Have you tried Pokéblocks? In my experience, most Pokémon you'd think were strictly carnivores are actually omnivores if you can get them to give Pokéblocks and berries a chance long enough to find a flavor they like, just like many of my husband's flying-types."

"It's bigger than that, she only accepts live prey," I said, eliciting a slight wince from her, but I continued to voice the situation since the Meowth was out of the bag. "I think it's probably due to her draconic side – she won't eat unless she catches it herself, although she doesn't seem to mind help with luring a meal to her trap. It's a bit of a problem since I can't exactly do that right now, both with my team in quarantine and the risk of Pokérus, so I'm not sure what I'll do. Thankfully she doesn't eat too often, but it's getting to be about that time."

"I can help you with that after I'm done with work," Owen's dad offered. "My Swellow can scout for a suitable Pokémon, and I can use the new update on my Pokédex to make sure it's safe for consumption before we coral it. Perks of being a Ranger, I suppose."

I accepted the offer graciously as Owen's mom huffed, clearly not fully convinced that Trapinch wouldn't have liked any of her Pokéblocks but thankfully deciding it wasn't worth arguing about. She asked Owen what kind of Pokéblocks his team wanted, which he rattled off easily, and everyone started to make their way to the back porch to release their teams for their meals. Owen expressed how excited he was for his parents to finally meet Misha and Omar, since they had only ever seen Owen with Bronson and Roxy, although they'd clearly heard of them.

Somewhat predictably, that's when yet another set of problems was introduced.

"Oh, Omar evolved this morning during training!" Owen proclaimed proudly to his family as we made our way out back.

Owen's dad froze dead in his tracks, pulling closed the back door that he had just begun opening for us while turning to give his son a look of unease. Owen's mom didn't seem to piece together what was going on, but that reminder made me realize I probably shouldn't be around when Owen released Omar and Misha, who'd surely recovered by now, since both Pokémon were likely still mad at me.

"That's your Slakoth right?" Owen's dad asked, eliciting a grin and nod from Owen.

Owen's dad gave him a look as if Owen had just said one of the dumbest things he'd ever heard, and I could see Owen's pride and confidence dissipate. There was a moment of awkward silence where it seemed as though Owen's dad was desperately trying to think of how he could possibly even begin to respond, but after Owen's mom asked what was wrong he launched into it.

"Did that punch scramble your brain and leave you devoid of common sense, boy? You can't just release your newly evolved Vigoroth around a group of strange Pokémon they've never met, especially evolved ones that are strong enough to be intimidating. Even if the Vigoroth was fully under control, which I'd bet my paycheck it isn't yet, the chances of a rampage are too high. Didn't you do any research on the species after capturing your Slakoth?"

Owen suddenly looked defensive and a little indignant, "I know they're a handful – they are on the restricted species list, after all. But he's still the same Omar I've always known. He just needs time to get used to his new evolution, that's all."

"You are severely underestimating what a 'handful' he'll be, even if you're right it'll get better over time. Vigoroth are easily stressed, and when that happens they rampage. They don't take kindly to perceived threats, and they can't stay still for a single moment, even when eating. Supposedly their heart-rate is nearly ten times faster than a Slakoth, and they need a steady supply of food just to help offset their high metabolism and constant activity. They are always rampaging to some degree – it just gets exponentially worse the more restless and agitated they feel."

Owen frowned, but conceded. "You're probably right… I recalled him just after he evolved because he got a little out of control, so I haven't had a chance to work with him yet. I'll just release Misha for breakfast, then I'll feed Omar when we are alone and I can help him get used to his new form. I need to work with him a little before I report his evolution to Nurse Joy, so I planned on doing that after breakfast."

"You need to do that today," Owen's dad said firmly, leaving no room for argument. "You're supposed to report it as soon as reasonably possible, but it's reasonable for you to spend some time trying to reign him in before then."

There was a brief moment where they maintained eye-contact and alternated nods, which I gathered to be Owen's dad relaying his seriousness and Owen confirmed his understanding and agreeing to comply. The whole thing exchange was a little uncomfortable to witness, but I supposed that Owen's dad probably was in the right, even if his approach left something to be desired.

That matter resolved, everybody resumed making their way out the back door. But even with the threat of Omar wanting to rip my face off no longer present, I knew that it probably wasn't a good idea for me to see Misha until she got a chance to cool down, especially since Owen's parents would likely figure out we'd left some key details out of our story.

Besides, my impending talk with Trapinch was long overdue. By this point she'd been in her ball for days and was surely getting restless, so I owed her the chance to stretch and an explanation.

"I think I'll go out front for some alone time with Trapinch," I commented as I broke off and turned for the front door. "I haven't had a proper talk with her since everything happened, so we've got a lot to discuss. I'll also double-check that she's ready for another meal later tonight."

As interested as I was in seeing the Pokémon Owen's father had, most notably the Crobat and Tropius that Owen had mentioned, I was sure there would be other opportunities. They didn't have any objections to me using the front side of the house, and after taking a few minutes to collect my thoughts and nerves, I released an unusually grumpy Trapinch.

As a ground-type, she seemed acutely cognizant of the fact that we were no longer highly elevated or in the usual arid climate she was accustomed to, and I got the sense that she wasn't a fan of suddenly finding herself in a place that was tropical and at sea-level. She looked confused and on-edge as she took in her surroundings, and that was before she laid her eyes on the ocean, which she seemed particularly wary of.

"Hey Trapinch… Good to see you," I said awkwardly with a forced smile, silently cursing myself for having been far too focused on how I was going to approach the conversation to realize that I really should have done it in the Pokécenter recreation room. Of course Trapinch would be unsettled by the ocean – she'd surely never seen it, probably didn't even know it existed, and was a damn ground-type.

I could literally hear Samantha's voice in my head calling me an idiot, but it was too late for a change in venue, so I committed. After giving her some time to get her bearings enough to take her attention off her surroundings and focus on me, I launched into a long-winded explanation of what all had transpired since I'd last seen her.

Considering that had been just after the alert for the lockdown had gone out, that meant I had a lot of explaining to do. I just hoped she wasn't too mad for me to do it, since the last time I'd seen her she'd only been expecting an overnight visit and we were now further from her home than ever.

Somewhat surprisingly, Trapinch was a better listener than I had expected, although admittedly I started losing her attention by the end. Of course, it helped that the story essentially started with Apollo and Duran fighting in a life-or-death battle against evil in an attempt to save the town's Pokémon, and her to some extent.

I'll admit that I might have embellished some parts and downplayed others. I didn't exactly lie about anything, but I didn't think it a good idea to explain just how outmatched we were, or the fact that Duran got defeated almost immediately after our opponent started to take things seriously. After all, she had a high opinion of Duran and his capabilities, so I focused more on how valiantly he and Apollo fought and that they were winning for the majority of the battle.

My depiction of events was accurate enough; Team Rocket is a group of evil criminals that play dirty, that damn Claydol's arrival left us outnumbered, and they broke the cardinal rule of battling by attacking the opposing trainer. I thought it best to describe it that way to instill in her that she should never attack a trainer during a battle and to drive home the fact that we didn't lose simply because we were weak. Though it was true that we couldn't yet hold a candle to the upper tiers of battling in the grand scheme of things, her coming to that conclusion wouldn't do me any favors.

Apart from when I was describing the battles, she seemed particularly interested when I got to Apollo's evolution, not that I was surprised. Yet that interest was lost almost immediately upon reaching the hospital portion of my story and everything beyond. I'd like to think this wasn't because she was completely uncaring about the fact that I had been hospitalized, but rather that she had difficulty following what was quickly becoming a story only humans would be able to fully follow.

I say that because she gave me a blank look for the remainder of the story after the 'action' had ended. I initially tried to explain some things I realized she probably wouldn't understand to help her follow the story – what Rangers, CT scans, police reports, and lockdown restrictions were. Human things aside, she didn't even know what a Gengar or ghosts in general were, and she didn't seem particularly interested in listening to me explain most of this stuff, so half-way through I began condensing things and talking in the simplest terms I possibly could, just to get through it.

The whole explanation ended up being rather painful, and I'd almost hazard to say it was a catastrophic failure by the seemingly disinterested demeanor Trapinch had by the end of it. But it did provide me with a revelation of sorts – something I'd always been somewhat aware of, but never realized more than in that moment.

It was a reminder of how far some of my other team members had come, and had me wondering if they truly understood as much as I thought, except for Apollo who had some unique advantages with access to my mind. Trapinch hadn't been around humans all that long, so her grasp of English and many human concepts was still basic at best.

Apollo's Telepathy was something that I had come to seriously take for granted, and I'd never felt his absence as much as I did during that conversation. It didn't help that Trapinch wasn't very animated in her responses either – she didn't even nod or shake her head, only offering me different variations of a quick snap of her jaws, tilts of her head, and the very occasional chirp. Part of the problem was simply her physiology – her mouth couldn't do anything but open and close, her eyes weren't particularly expressive, she stood on all fours and rarely even shifted, and she had no ears or tail for me to take body language cues from.

She was almost like a statue. It truly felt like a one-way conversation, as though I was talking at her and not with her, and not only during the story-telling portion of our conversation either.

"...and that's pretty much how we ended up spending our lockdown here. It's kind of perfect – since we aren't on the mainland the virus seems to be much less prevalen– common, we don't have to worry about Team Rocket coming after us nearly as much, and we needed to challenge this gym next anyway. If I had to guess, we'll probably be here for a week or two, but it's hard to say for sure. It's a mess, but the good news is that now we have a chance to focus on your training."

The only response I received was a slight snap of the jaw, but it struck me as more of an acknowledgment than anything. I'd thought that being able to focus on training would excite her, but she seemed… well, I couldn't actually tell, but I would best describe it as indifferent, or perhaps simply disengaged. I would have given a good handful of credits for one of Apollo's emotion checks to know what she was feeling, and although not ideal by any means, I decided that I preferred her current 'reaction' to being downright angry, which I'd been rather worried about.

You could say that I got cold feet partially due to her lackluster enthusiasm, but I decided that it wasn't the right time to outright ask if she'd officially join the team. As much as I hated to have that remain a lingering question, we were stuck in Dewford regardless of her answer and I really didn't want her to feel forced or trapped, so I tried to get ahead of it.

"I know this isn't ideal, and that I promised we would be returning to your desert soon. We'll be heading that way after the restrictions are lifted, I promise. I'll need to go to Mauville before taking on the eastern gyms, and I can release you then if you want. In the meantime, let's try to be friends."

No response, just a blank stare.

"...and we can get you trained up, maybe even evolved."

That finally got a response from her, and she began to chatter her teeth and bobbed her body in what I hoped was excitement. I grinned, "For that to happen, we'll have to train extra hard though. Not just your moves either – I want you to start joining me in exercising to help your mobility. We can't do any battling until lockdown ends, but by then you'll be ready to start beating opponents and it'll only be a matter of time until you evolve. Think you're up for it?"

She gave a chirp, which I took to mean yes. I caught myself reaching out my hand to rub her head, something I instinctively did in moments like this, and decided not to push my luck. I'd managed to talk her into sitting on my lap when we'd watched Owen's battle against Flannery, but I got the feeling that she only did that out of necessity so she could watch, and I hadn't dared to pet her since she'd tried taking a bite out of me. If she didn't like being touched unnecessarily, then I would try to respect her boundaries as best as I could while we worked on bonding, and hopefully over time the issue would resolve itself.

"Nice pep talk kid," I heard a voice say from behind me, jolting me to my feet in alarm as a man stepped out from behind some nearby shrubbery.

Trapinch snapped threateningly at who I soon recognized to be Warren Thatcher – the man who had been watching over me while I was in the hospital and had teleported Owen and me to Dewford. I had to take a second to calm down, because his sudden appearance had my heart racing from the momentary fear that a Rocket had come to grab me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, holding out a hand trying to get Trapinch to stop snapping at him, although it didn't seem to help.

"...My job?"

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, sparing Trapinch barely a glance before deciding he was completely unconcerned with her attempts at intimidation and focusing on me.

I wasn't the only one who picked up on his dismissal either. Trapinch seemed to take it as a personal affront and took it upon herself to charge at him, her jaws opened wide as she went in for a Bite.

I'd had Trapinch's Luxury Ball hidden from view in my hand during our entire chat on the off-chance that she tried to attack me, and was pretty quick on the draw as I raised it to recall her. But even with the short amount of time it took for me to point it at her, she was already subdued – levitating in the air with psychic energy surrounding her as she kicked her feet, squirming and snapping wildly.

Warren sighed, crossing his arms as he cast me an unamused look. "You let your Pokémon attack anyone who startles you? That's a good way to lose your trainer license, kid."

I scowled, "She's a new capture, and you did sort of come out of nowhere. Now would you mind not bullying Trapinch?"

Warren scoffed, shaking his head in a mixture of disbelief and disapproval. "Bullying… Kids these days…"

To his credit, Trapinch was slowly lowered to the ground. She looked more agitated than I'd ever seen her, snapping and chirping in what I could only assume was her version of cursing out Warren. But she didn't charge again, likely realizing that she had no hope of reaching Warren thanks to the Alakazam that I knew must be lurking somewhere nearby.

"We'll do some training soon Trapinch, and I'm going to help you get a meal tonight. I guess I have to talk to this jerk in the meantime. Return."

I recalled Trapinch before she had an opportunity to protest, not that I know for sure she would have, but Warren demanded my full attention and I didn't want to worry about her.

"Jerk? Kinda rude when I've done nothing but help you," Warren remarked as he lazily walked to a nearby palm tree and leaned his back against it, looking slightly disappointed that his source of entertainment was now gone.

"Which I'm sure you're paid handsomely to do, so don't act like it was out of the goodness of your heart," I retorted. I don't know what it was about Warren, but something about him really rubbed me the wrong way, even if what he said was technically true.

He shrugged, "I was nothing but gentle with your Trapinch when I probably should have taught her a couple of lessons you clearly haven't yet – like what happens when you go around picking fights far outside your league, and how to act around others. You know what they say right? If one isn't ever taught how to properly behave, strangers will do it, and they won't be kind. I even let you have your little chat with your Trapinch despite waiting around for you to be alone all day. So no, I don't think I've been a jerk, in fact I'd say I've been exceedingly nice and patient."

"Why are you even here?" I asked with a sigh, deciding it best to just get to the point rather than bicker. "I thought you'd have left by now. I'm safe – Team Rocket doesn't know where I am, and even if they did I seriously doubt they'd go out of their way for me, especially all the way out here."

"I'm sure you're right," he agreed with a nod. "No offense, but they've got more important things going on than tracking down some kid who annoyed them."

"Could you stop calling me a kid and get to the point?" I growled, feeling myself get increasingly aggravated at the man. "I don't want anyone else seeing you're here. Owen thinks you're on some League task force or something, remember? It wouldn't make much sense for you to still be hanging around."

"I'm aware, kid, why do you think I waited until now? You shouldn't lie to your friends, by the way. And you really shouldn't punch them in the face," he said with an amused smirk. "It might have helped your buddy evolve his Slakoth, but that's no way to treat your 'friends'."

I could tell he was messing with me, and it was working. I gritted my teeth, stifling my desire to argue with him about why Owen had to be left in the dark about who he truly worked for, as well as my unease that he'd somehow been watching us all day even when we'd thought we were alone in the Pokécenter recreation room.

I took a deep breath, calming myself and deciding that I didn't want to rise to his obvious attempts at provocation.

"Can you get on with it? They're probably expecting me inside – my talk with Trapinch surely took longer than it did for them to feed their teams."

"It did, but we still have time. They're busy taking advantage of your absence to talk about you," he said casually.

I groaned in frustration, doing my best to chalk that comment up to him messing with me, but hating that he'd planted that into my head.

"I'm going inside if you don't need anything," I stated plainly, clipping Trapinch's ball to my belt and walking toward the front door.

"Guess you don't want this, then?"

I turned and saw him holding… something. It looked like some sort of gemstone, but I had no idea what it was or why he would think I wanted it. But the pieces soon fell into place as I noticed the aquamarine stone shimmering under the sunlight, and I soon realized what it must be.

"Is that–"

"Yours," he interrupted. "From our mutual acquaintance. He apologizes for the delay, I'm sure you can understand he's been very busy."

He tossed it at me, which made my heart skip a beat. Thankfully I managed to catch it despite some slight fumbling, leaving me to imagine what might have come out of my mouth if it had shattered from landing on the cobblestone steps leading to Owen's front door.

"Nice catch. Don't lose that – it's expensive. That's the highest quality one I've ever seen firsthand," he commented.

"Couldn't you have just handed it to me like a normal person?" I growled as I quickly stashed it deep in my pocket, not even bothering to inspect it closer after deciding I really didn't want to try explaining to Owen what it was or how I'd gotten it if he somehow saw it.

"Sure, but that's not as fun," he shrugged. "Besides, there was no risk of it breaking."

Ah, right. His Alakazam was lurking somewhere nearby, and probably even his Gengar. I looked forward to the day Apollo had that kind of control over his telekinesis, a thought that only made me remember how much I missed him.

"Is that all?" I asked, finding my patience with his antics and demeanor wearing thin.

"What, no 'thank you'? I've teleported across the region multiple times now just to be your personal errand boy," he said with mock disapproval, although I knew he was just entertaining himself.

I closed my eyes and let loose a deep sigh, but decided to just play along before I ended up getting a migraine.

"Thank you," I said sincerely as I opened my eyes to look at him, only to find him smirking in amusement.

"...for doing your job."

I'd like to think that normally I wouldn't so easily be annoyed by these kinds of antics, and I was making a conscious effort not to be, but there was just something about the guy that really got under my skin, even though I knew that was exactly what he wanted. Add on the fact that I already wasn't exactly having the best day, and I just couldn't help but get a little snarky.

If he hadn't had that smirk on his face, I'd have never added on that last part. I'm not sure if it's because of that comment, or if he was planning on doing it anyway, but that's when it happened.

Pressure.

No warning probes from an unfamiliar presence, and no knocks on the proverbial door to my mind – just that familiar, terrifying pressure bearing down on my mind that would only continue to plunge me deeper into the abyss of pain.

I dropped to my knees and yelled, clutching my head as terror consumed me at the realization that I was being telepathically attacked by a psychic-type that was almost surely among the strongest in the region – one capable of being on a team that had once won the Ever Grande Conference, and one strong enough to serve as right-hand secret security for the most wealthy and important man in the region.

I felt helpless. Again.

It was all so familiar, but this time I didn't have Apollo. I didn't even repeat the mantra I'd adopted from the hand-written note in Telepathic Tendencies. It never even came to mind.

This time, there wasn't a single doubt in my mind what the outcome would be. Knowing that resisting was pointless and would only land me in the hospital again, or possibly worse, I did the only thing I could to bring an end to the pressure bearing down on me – something I desperately wanted to stop.

I quit resisting.

I could feel the presence enter my mind, and with it, the pressure stopped. I felt it rummaging around during what I now think was only a second or two, although at the time the terror I felt made it seem much longer. Even so, I soon felt the presence leave much to my immediate relief, but not before a voice, Warren's voice, rang through my head and said a single word.

"Disappointing."

It took me a couple of seconds to get my bearings as my senses slowly returned to me, but as they did I realized a few things.

The first was that I was still on my knees clutching my head. That surprised me, because I was almost certain I'd have found myself writhing on the ground.

The second thing I realized was that Warren was gone. I had no doubt that even if my legs were cooperating enough for me to bother checking, he wasn't simply hiding behind a nearby bush or something.

I also realized belatedly that I actually wasn't in too bad of shape. I had a slight headache and was definitely rattled, but I supposed that because I'd let the presence in rather than resist to the point I had with the Claydol, I was spared from the worst of what could have happened.

Finally, I realized that Warren was a much bigger asshole than I'd already pegged him for, and might just have taken the throne for the person I hated the most. Others in the running like Dorian, Walker, Fiona, Keegen, and even Preston at least had a reason for what they did, questionable as they might be. As far as I could tell, Warren had done that either as petty revenge for a harmless remark I'd made, or purely for his own amusement.

"What happened?!" Owen's voice rang out as the front door flew open, both he and his dad rushing out with Pokéballs in hand as his mom watched warily from the doorway.

I shakily got to my feet, doing my best to calm down and regulate my sporadic breathing. I was still shaken, but reasonably confident that I was alright all things considered.

"I'm f-fine," I muttered as Owen grabbed my arm and helped me steady myself, my equilibrium still not fully recovered. I had no idea how to explain the situation, but I knew that admitting I'd been telepathically attacked by Steven Stone's lackey as a rebuke for sarcastically thanking him for delivering a high-grade Dawn Stone as payment for watching over the heiress pretending to be my sister wasn't an option.

"Like hell you are! You screamed dude, and just look at yourself – you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Language, young man!" Owen's mom scolded from the doorway, eliciting a grin from me despite feeling like crap. I idly noted that swearing in Owen's house was frowned upon, and tried to commit that to memory so I wouldn't find myself being a bad house guest.

Well, any worse than I already was, especially after this little episode.

"I'm fine… Sorry, just got startled by something," I muttered lamely as my excuse, not having any better ideas.

Seeing there was no danger, Owen's father relaxed and went back inside, although he did spare me one final look over his shoulder that seemed… disapproving, or perhaps disappointed. I couldn't fully place it, but I knew I didn't like it.

As Owen's mom peered back out the doorway one last time and offered me a look of worry and sympathy before disappearing inside, Owen coughed and clasped my shoulder, leaning over to whisper in my ear.

"Uh, dude, you… Let's go get you changed. You can give me those and I'll sort this out."

I gave him a confused look, but soon caught his meaning after he gave a slight jerk of his head, causing me to glance down at something I hadn't even registered but suddenly became acutely aware of.

A wet spot – on my groin and down the inner thigh of my pant leg.

I'd pissed myself. I couldn't be sure if I'd done the same with the Claydol since my clothes had been washed upon leaving the hospital, but I remembered theorizing that I'd probably done so, and this incident seemed to support that.

I wanted to disappear from embarrassment, but was left feeling slightly relieved as I patted my backside and confirmed it hadn't been nearly as bad as it could have. Dealing with wet pants and underwear was one thing, but I probably would have wilted out of existence if I'd caused a stink as well.

I only nodded, planting my hands in my hoodie pouch and pulling down in my best attempt to cover what had happened as I quickly made my way to the guest bedroom and changed, with Owen walking alongside me to serve as a visual barrier by keeping himself positioned between me and his parents as they had a hushed conversation on the living room couch.

About me, no doubt. If Warren had been lying about them talking about me behind my back, he'd sure made that a reality now. As I changed my clothes after stowing the Dawn Stone deep in one of my backpack's side pockets, I was reminded of Orion having accidents, both during his first stay in a Pokécenter room thanks to Duran scaring him, as well as during our ride in the Cable Car.

I told myself that if he could bear the embarrassment, so could I. It helped that I didn't think Owen's parents were fully aware of what was happening, although I doubted it would be hard for them to figure out when I suddenly came out wearing shorts and Owen randomly started running a load of laundry.

And so, what was already shaping up to be a bad day only continued to get worse. I'd accidentally shared more with Owen's parents than he had clearly ever wanted me to, only to then punch him in the face as a follow-up. I felt even more sore than I'd woken up, had embarrassed myself by screaming like a terrified child in front of Owen's parents, and now had urine-soaked pants and underwear.

I still to train Trapinch and hopefully get her a meal, and I needed to find time to tell Owen what I'd thoughtlessly revealed to his parents and hope he didn't get too upset with me.

Oh, and I definitely needed to have a serious chat with Samantha about Warren… At least, that's what I thought for a brief moment before realizing that it would be impossible to do without bringing up the fact he'd only been there and seemingly assaulted my mind because he was delivering the Dawn Stone, which I wasn't keen on telling her about for obvious reasons. Maybe someday, but that was surely an in-person kind of thing if it ever happened.

If I could just sell it, there was a chance I could take that shameful agreement to my grave, since it didn't seem likely that Apollo was going to end up using it. Or maybe the opportunity would present itself for me to get it off my chest – perhaps long in the future, when it was a distant memory and we could have a good laugh about how I'd never thought we'd get along long-term and felt compelled to make use of a rare opportunity that had presented itself to me.

I sighed as I zipped and buttoned up my shorts, realizing that despite all that had already happened it wasn't even ten in the morning yet, leaving me to wonder just how much worse the day could possibly get.

A/N: We're back, and FFN still hasn't fixed the formatting so I had to do my best to replicate it manually again, yay!

So yeah, this day is a long one, but we've got the story's first time skip coming up so don't worry about the Dewford arc dragging on too long. I know we just recently got here, just thought I'd get ahead of people who might worry I was going to cover each day stuck in lockdown in detail. We've also got some fun and wholesomeness queued up to make up for doing Daniel dirty these past few chapters. That's just how Daniel's life goes – a series of highs and lows. Hey, that rhymed!

Shoutout to The Muffin Rat King for beta-reading this chapter, and to all you lovely people who wished me happy birthday!

Enjoying DotD? Chat, chill, brainstorm, theorize, and get instantly notified of new chapters at Discord. gg/ ge6a8XcNcB