Cilan had come to dread nights.
Not because of the atmosphere. He liked the atmosphere of the night, the quiet calm that enveloped the world and made everything quiet for once. It was supposed to be a time of rest, a time to relax and sleep off the events of the day. It was supposed to be restful.
Not that Cilan or his brothers would know.
He could see it in their faces, in the way they moved and spoke. All three of them were exhausted. Chili's familiar fire had dimmed considerably in recent days, and even Cress's calm demeanor was falling apart. They were breaking, and there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it but pray Ghetsis would stop needing them so often. Then again, even if he did magically decide he didn't need his Shadow Triad as often as he did, Cilan wasn't sure he'd ever be able to sleep again.
It wasn't for lack of trying, Cilan thought as he took up another piece of silverware to be washed and prepared for the next day. He'd tried harder than he'd thought possible, but it just wouldn't work for him, the thoughts just wouldn't leave him alone, every night he saw—
Cilan shook his head. Not now. Not here.
He distracted himself with the little vase of flowers on one of the tables. They were wilting; he'd have to replace them soon. Maybe there were some in the garden outside he could use instead. That would be nice. If only everything was so easy.
Cilan looked at his hands as they wrapped around the vase to move it a bit. They were the hands of a murderer, a traitor, and a thief.
And worst of all, they were the hands of a coward.
The word came to him, a bitter spike in an already unpleasant train of thought. Coward. That was what Cilan was, after all. True, he'd never been the bravest among his brothers in any circumstance—Chili had always been much braver than him, even if that bordered on recklessness—but this wasn't just refusing to go into the basement for fear of a Ghost-type lurking around. No, this was more egregious. He wanted out. He wanted to be able to sleep again, real, uninterrupted sleep that left him feeling rested in the morning. But Ghetsis had a lot of influence, and he could easily reveal their identities, and if anyone ever found out—
Something tapped his shoulder, and Cilan turned around to see his Flapple holding something out to him. On further inspection, it was a Pecha Berry. Cilan just smiled, the expression strained. Flapple always did know how to cheer him up, and it was well familiar with his love of the sweet Berry.
"Thanks, Flapple." Cilan gently took the Pecha Berry, taking a small bite from it as he looked at his Flapple's skeptical expression. "I'm fine, I promise," he insisted. He was met once again with the Pokémon's skeptical gaze. It may not have been with Cilan the longest—it was only his second Pokemon besides Pansage—but Flapple seemed to know him better than he knew himself some days.
Flapple seemed to give up for the moment, Cilan noted thankfully; it just nuzzled its smooth cheek against his in a familiar gesture. Cilan rubbed Flapple's head gently with his finger. It had hurt to look at Flapple once. It was just an Applin then, a gift from Cilan's mother shortly before her death. Clara had wanted her boys to have a piece of her, she'd said once. She was Galarian, after all, and she'd wanted the three of them to know that part of their heritage. Coriander might have beaten her to giving the boys their starters (not that Cilan loved Pansage any less), but she'd at least gotten to give the three of them something of her before her passing.
Arceus, what would she think of them now…? The thought alone made Cilan's heart sink. Clara would have wanted her boys to stay out of trouble. She wouldn't have wanted them caught up in… this. Team Plasma. The Shadow Triad. If she knew just how deep in they were, it would break her heart.
Before he could think on it any further, a knocking sound made him nearly jump to the ceiling. Cilan turned around to see Chili, his breathing still shaky. The bags under Chili's eyes weren't lost on him, and it broke his heart to see. They were stretching themselves thin. They all were. And Cilan wasn't sure how much longer it would be before they finally broke.
"C'mon," Chili muttered, glancing at Flapple. "We need to get going." He walked off, and Cilan looked back at the Apple Wing Pokemon. With one last head rub—he knew how much Flapple loved those—Cilan returned it to its Poke Ball and put it in his bag. He needed to get ready. Glancing down at the table, Cilan found his usual disguise. Chili must have put it there.
It didn't take Cilan long to find somewhere to change clothes, and he did so quickly. His Xtransceiver buzzed, and he reflexively raised his hand to check it.
nacrene, behind one of the warehouses was all it said. Cilan would recognize Chili's texting style anywhere. He adjusted the wig, making sure it covered every inch of green hair it could, and pulled the black mask over his face.
As he and his brothers prepared to leave, Cilan caught one last glimpse in a nearby mirror. A thick black bandana covered his face, the features that looked like his mother's obscured by the dark fabric. A white wig, the material synthetic and strangely wrong against his skin, covered his hair and part of his face. Even the rest of him seemed unrecognizable in the darkness of the closed Gym and restaurant.
The only part that looked like Cilan was his eyes.
A/N: I'm just letting y'all know, I'm going to be taking a hiatus starting on November 26. I'll be back in early January, probably January 6 or 7. I won't be posting or active here or on AO3, and I'll be logged out of my accounts. I'm not sure if I'll be posting anything else before the hiatus starts, but I will have a multichapter story filled with absolute tooth-rotting fluff once it ends. If I don't post anything before then, have a wonderful holiday season, and happy reading!