I burn through my last few cigarettes by the time I drive back to my place. I've already thought about what I'm going to say, but I still have to gather myself before I get out of my car to unlock the front door. Right away, I'm hit with a cloud of bubblegum stink.

Barry's stretched out on the settee, glued to his phone while he puffs on his vape pen. It sounds like he's watching one of his dumb video essays, something he usually puts on while he's cooking or playing his games. I so badly want to snuggle up to him, but I can't. We need to settle what happened in the park.

"Hey," I say, wiping my boots on the welcome mat.

Barry sighs and puts his phone away, though he doesn't budge from his position with his feet propped up on the armrest. I'd rehearsed something on the way here, but I've forgotten what it is and my body freezes like I've been hit with an ice beam.

I know Barry doesn't deal well with confrontation. He's always the last person to speak up whenever someone gets his order wrong or cuts in line. If there's anyone who needs to speak up, it's me.

"I got your text," he says, cutting me short.

"Yeah."

The ticking clock in the kitchen punctuates the silence. Well, colour me surprised.

"I was really looking forward to doing dinner tonight," he continues. "You never told me what he wanted."

"Bunnelby stew," I say, fighting off the tickle in my throat.

"Aw, that's a shame, it would've been nice to have him around."

He doesn't know the half of it.

"So, what happened? Did he just decide not to come with you?"

I pop my boots off and plant my socked feet firmly onto the carpet. I can feel myself sinking into it.

"I called it off."

"What?" Barry sits up and tugs at his beard. "You didn't ask me first?"

"Nope."

"Glen," he chides like I'm some Machop. "I thought we were doing this together."

"It's not like I needed permission from you." The words tumble out like rocks falling off a cliff. I hate the direction this is going, but I can't stop myself as I take a few steps forward, looking down at Barry. "It was my idea to take him in anyway."

"So that means I don't get a say in it?"

"No." I pinch my snout. "That's not what I meant. I just…"

Barry stops fiddling with his stubble, which is good, but now he's fiddling with the seat cushioning instead.

"Look, we both knew it might not've worked out. We're both working full time. He'd either be cooped up in here with us, or we'll be outside, not even able to act like two normal parents in front of everyone else. We're basically cut off from everyone else too. Not even your friends or parents know about us together."

Barry grabs a fistful of settee leather. "I know."

"See?" I rub the back of my neck. "And things being as they are, y'know, your anxiety–"

"Don't. My anxiety's not an excuse for us to dump Dex."

"Excuse?" I snort. "Just like telling me to 'warn you' isn't an excuse?"

"Shit," his voice cracks. Barry rubs his face. "I shouldn't have said that. I just freaked out. I wasn't expecting to see you then."

He always says something like that after these close calls.

"I'm so sick of this. We can't even hold hands in public."

"How d'you think I feel?"

Barry's taking deep breaths, one two, one two. Not this again. I should say some words of comfort. After all he's told me about his family, those shitty high school friends of his who blackmailed him over his interests in Pokemon, and all his relationships that have deteriorated in the past, there's plenty he needs comforting with. But the words don't come.

Barry regains his composure a little, and stands up, giving me a stone faced look.

"You know, I texted you all day and you didn't even talk to me."

I grunt. "Clingy, much? I don't have to update you on everything I do."

"I know, just–" he throws his hands up in the air–"You should've told me you were having second thoughts."

"I was busy, alright?" I pace around the room. "Today was stressful and I was just thinking in the heat of the moment."

"I get being busy, but we are supposed to communicate when stuff gets tough!" He scratches his mane of hair. "It's like, we've been together all this time and it still feels there's this… wall between us."

"And what's that got to do with what happened today?"

"Everything! You never tell me how work's going or how you're feeling. You never look happy and you won't even say why."

"Because I'm driving a bunch of stupid fucking Pokemon around all day." I get all up in his face. "Is that the answer you want?"

He faces me in turn, almost squishing his nose against mine. "Then quit."

"Oh, like it's so easy! You actually get to have a career! I just have a day job!"

"There are other options, y'know."

"Like what, sucking up to a trainer on some stupid trinket quest?"

"No, I mean those PokeJobs coming up. Or a hobby or a course you can pick up. Oh, and those 'stupid fucking Pokemon' you talk about make a lot of money just streaming these days too. You were talking about how Dex could do anything he wanted, so why don't you practise what you preach?"

"It's too late for me." I breathe through my nose. "I'm fine just surviving with what I know."

"But you're not happy."

"Yeah, that's called adulthood."

"Oh fuck off." Barry scoffs and walks away, heading towards his room. "You sound just like my dad. Maybe it's better that Dex didn't come with you."

His dad? That deadbeat?

How dare he?

Everything happens so fast. That rush within me. That fighting spirit. I haven't felt it in so long. Before I know it, my fist hits the wall behind the settee. Oh, shit. There's a dent in it now. And Barry's backed himself against the bedroom door, all wide eyed. He starts yanking his beard, then tugging his neck.

"Nnghh… no, no, don't–" he rapidly breathes. "I'm sorry, I, I, um, ugh–"

He's lying against the door now, mumbling and hyperventilating. Shit, he's having one of his panic attacks again. I'm not in the mood for this.

"Barry," I huff in between breaths, "stop this. You're making a fool of yourself."

He doesn't stop. He keeps going, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and manages to rip out a whole clump of it like he's tearing paper.

"Barry..." I groan. "Barry, please." It takes a few deep breaths before it hits me: I did this to him. My Barry.

Whatever monster made me punch the wall ebbs out of me. My face feels hot. I'm crying, weeping. All the things I've tried to express to him, everything I've held in all this time, just melts out of my eyes and I join Barry on the floor, hugging him and kissing him and sobbing into his chest. I don't want him to leave me. He's too important to me. I've got nothing else, not even Dex now.

"I'm sorry," I choke out in between sobs. "I'm sorry. Stay with me, please."

I just want him to be okay. I try to ground him however I can, rubbing his back and talking to him, and he eases into it until his breathing slows, then it's his turn to cry into my chest. We just stay like that, arms wrapped around each other, not caring about what he said or what I said. I don't even know how long we stay there for, just that it's gotten darker by the time we both calm down.

"Sorry," Barry says in between breaths. "I didn't mean that. About Dex."

Neither of us meant it. I tell myself that even as my hand's still covered with wall dust and bruises.

"It's fine."

"No, it's not." He sniffles. "I know how much you wanted to take him in. It's not fair for you to keep hiding."

"It's not. For either of us."

We let those words linger. In a perfect world, we wouldn't have to worry about any of this. But we went into this relationship accepting that risk. I'd rather have that than not have it at all.

"Is…" Barry sits up and rubs his eyes. "Is Dex okay?"

"He's staying with the Mach n' Van crew. He really likes it there."

"Oh, so, you've made up your mind. He's not coming here."

I take a deep breath. It's not about making up my mind, it's about doing what's right for him.

"Nope."

"Alright." Barry caresses my face, tracing his hand along the ridges of my snout. "What're you going to do when you see him tomorrow?"

I expect Dex will be pissed off at me. I deserve it.

"I don't know."

"Aw."

Barry hugs me. I hug him back, gripping him tight. I'm afraid that if I let him go, he'll disappear. I just count my lucky stars that he's in my life.

"When…" Barry starts, his voice muffled by my neck. "When are you next free?"

One good thing I can say about the humans running Mach n' Van is that they force me to have breaks. So many places I'd worked for in the past seemed to forget that Pokemon suffer burnout too. "I have the weekend off after tomorrow."

"Let's do something nice." He kisses the groove beneath my snout. "We both need it."

I hum in agreement. A part of me dreads going out again, knowing that we'll still have to hide everywhere we go, but it's better than nothing.

"Oh, and do you fancy a takeaway tonight? Maybe we could watch a show too."

Not gonna lie, I was looking forward to Barry cooking tonight, but I feel we could both do with some comfort food.

"Sure."

We spend the evening gorging on Cozy Fried Kitchen with a few beers while we binge-watch one of Barry's animes. Unsurprisingly, it features anthropomorphic Pokemon as the main characters (Barry had to explain to me what anthropomorphic meant when I first started watching the show with him), featuring a Lycanroc who falls for a Lopunny in some high school setting. It took me some time to get invested, but I've warmed up to it, especially since their interspecies relationship hits a little close to home with me and Barry together.

I try to cuddle up to him like nothing happened, but he feels stiff in my grasp. That's okay. We're both still feeling raw, so I give him the space he needs. I soon forget about today's worries with all the fattening fast food and lagers in the mix. I drift in and out of sleep next to Barry before I call it a night.

I try to shake off last night's weariness as I drive back up to the Mach n' Van base. I've been in a funk ever since I've woken up. Maybe it was the booze. Not just that, as soon as I step out of my car to greet the crew who have been running laps around the field, they all look at me as if I'm walking around naked.

"What's up?" I say, nursing my head. "I'm not late, am I?"

"Nah." Rip takes a swig out of a water bottle. "You're early, if anything."

"Then what's the problem?"

Rip shrugs. Dex almost backs into him as he stops running.

"Hey, kid," I say, forcing a smile. "Looks like you've been through quite a jog, huh?"

"Mmm." Dex fiddles with his hands. Dextrous.

"How'd you get on last night?" I ask, as if I totally didn't dump his ass here.

Dex looks off into the distance, past central Circhester's buildings, over to a set of fields. Just faintly, I can see the grey exterior of Fairweather Daycare atop one of the hills. Then back to the house.

"Good," he says at last. "Everyone's really nice. Rip sparred with me. Hammer's a great cook. I've never had eggs on toast before."

His eyes wander as he says this. I want to reach out to him, pat him on the shoulder, try to act like a dad, like I wanted to when I took him in yesterday. But I can't promise him that.

"Glad to hear you're getting on well."

Dex nods and continues his laps. Rip does the same, passing him his water bottle mid run. I don't know what to do now since I'm not joining the crew on their drills. Hammer waves at me from the annex kitchen window. When I pop in to see him, he's washing up a mountain of dishes.

"And Mister Puff Puff arrives," he says as he's scrubbing a frying pan. "You usually don't come in here in the morning."

"It's only ten minutes before we start," I say. "What's up, anyway?"

"Just wanted to talk to you about Dex. The anklebiter's great. I've never seen such a well behaved Machop. Didn't hurt that he really liked my stew either."

"Good."

I wait by the door, expecting him to say something else. I don't know what I'm expecting exactly. I could just smoke back in my car and wait it out until I'm expected to drive them up to their first job.

"What?"

His lips crease into a frown. "Dex was kind of upset."

I knew it.

"I get why. He doesn't like to talk about his parents, but I can tell it's still raw for him. We're a good team, but we can't fill a hole like that in him." He scoffs. "It's not like this is new for me. Plenty of Machoke come to us not having anywhere else to go. All I can do is just give them that space until they're ready."

I hum in agreement. This isn't just a place where Machoke train themselves, it's a place that they have somewhere to call home for the moment. Supposedly. It's never felt like a home to me.

"That anklebiter's gonna find it really tough, though. More than anything, he needs someone to rely on. He was expecting that from you."

I freeze. I know that I let him down. I can't disagree with Hammer, but I don't have a choice in the matter.

"You shouldn't have led him on. You can't promise something and then break it, especially not to a kid like that."

I know. I know that more than anyone. But Hammer doesn't know what I've had to go through. He can't know. And I don't want him to know, even though I've lumped this situation onto him. I just stare at him, clawing for any power I can get in this situation.

"Why don't you say something, Glen?" Soap suds drip from Hammer's hands as he grabs a tea towel. The hands on his back arms curl into fists. "Jeez, you don't have to talk to me if you don't wanna, but I'm just trying to give you some advice."

"Well, Mister Nosy," I snarl, "I'm not asking for your opinion, am I?"

I don't mean to say it. The words just come out. That's enough for Hammer to throw the damp cloth at my face.

"I'll see you in the van," he grumbles as he storms out. I'm left there holding the limp, dishwater-smelling tea towel.

My hands shake as I pull another cigarette out of my pocket. I've still got five minutes. I can't go back to work until I get my fix again.

Me and Barry spent most of today together. We wandered around Circhester's parks, he bought me lunch at one of my favourite sandwich shops in the city (sourdough!), and we both made plans to see new gigs next month. It's been good.

Now I'm at this board game cafe with Barry's friends: someone else from his workplace who looks like a lumberjack with his flannel shirt, and his boyfriend, who's as thin as a Bellsprout. Barry thought it would be nice for me to befriend some humans. This would make it a double date if we actually made each other official.

I get on well with his group, at first. I don't like how humans always ask each other what they do, as if the most important thing about them is their work, but I try to make my delivery driver job sound as glamorous as possible with all the places we go to, also talking about some of my problem customers so they know it's not all Slurpuff and rainbows.

The lumberjack guy talks about his marketing role while his lanky boyfriend works in IT or some shit. I still don't know what their jobs are actually about by the time we start playing a card game based off The Five Towers, some fantasy book about an Alakazam facing an evil human empire. It's simple enough until it devolves into an argument about how much the latest show sucked and how many plot holes there are. Then they start rambling about another fantasy game where you kill hordes of mutated Rattata and I completely lose the thread of the conversation.

I literally can't pay attention to what I'm supposed to do in this game while they're talking about another game with all this super-complicated lore. After a while, I go through the motions, playing to the best of my ability in silence while Barry and his friends talk each other's ears off.

I'm happy for Barry. He's got friends that like what he likes, and I respect that. It's just not my group. It reminds me of being back at the Mach n' Van, except I at least get what they're talking about.

I wonder what Dex would think of this place, and if he'd like the vanilla milkshakes here or the simpler games developed for Pokemon in mind. I think back to what Hammer said about Dex being upset, and how the rest of the day went where I barely spoke to Dex at all, then my argument with Barry the other night.

'Maybe it's better that Dex didn't come with you.'

Now I just want to go home. I don't want to leave Barry, but we already had a good day between us. Why ruin that by overstaying my welcome?

"I'm going back," I say, shuffling out of the booth. "See you later."

I want to kiss Barry goodbye, but I merely nod at him as I head out, lighting up on the way home.

I thought a drive along Route 8 would've lifted my spirits. I've been through these roads during my time as a cargo driver. There's a comforting familiarity as I traverse these bends that give way to ruins.

Like the Hero's Bath, these are remnants of civilisations long lost. Battlements, forts, and rock formations lay weathered on both sides of these roads. On one end, there's untouched wilderness, where wild Rhyhorn and Sandaconda fight for territory amidst endless stretches of moss. On the other end, there's the trainer's path, where ladders and stairs have been erected around the dilapidated stone structures to give people and their Pokemon safe travels on their journey, while Falinks roll through the tunnels beneath them.

Both sides are fenced off to us, the people who actually have places to be. Except I have nowhere to go except back home to Circhester.

I stop at a vantage point where other drivers have parked near a petrol station and cafe. I chomp on a chicken salad sandwich as I look down at the trainer's route that stretches for miles, one of the few places you can get a good look at the closed-off path without going into it yourself. In the distance, I can just barely make out a teenaged trainer hi-fiving their Noivern after coming out victorious.

Sometimes, I bask in the good ol' days where I was just a Machop who didn't know any better, so desperate to prove himself. Some days, I can imagine a life where I still travelled these routes with some wide-eyed trainer.

On days like these, I just see what could've been, and what isn't.

I bring my unfinished sandwich with me in the car. When I make it back home, there's still many hours left in the day. Barry's practising his guitar in his room. I'll leave him to it. I just veg out to Natuflix while I drink throughout the day. It's not like I've got anything better to do when neither of us have made plans to go out.

It's hard to focus, even as this human's jumping between platforms on this elaborate obstacle course. It's hard to ignore Barry swearing at missing a note when we live in the same house together, even with his bedroom door closed. The show becomes background noise as I browse my phone.

The PokeJobs system sounds good. They're meant to test whether or not Pokemon can enter the workforce, as if Pokemon haven't been helping humans with jobs since the dawn of time. I had to stumble for ages before I made a good living, so anything that gives Pokemon a leg up sounds good. Then I find out they've stopped trialling it for the year. Oh well.

Then I type 'Pokemon-human relationships' into Rootom. Right away, there's some news article on a scandal where a Sinnohan gym leader got banned from the league for being in a relationship with their Lucario.

The news only talks about Pokemon falling for the trainers, or the other way around. I grimace just thinking about it. Pokemon and their trainers shouldn't mix. The power balance is skewed from the start.

But what about Pokemon like me who just meet humans naturally, like I did with Barry?

I don't remember how many cans I get through in my doom-scrolling haze, just that I feel fluid, like water. I want Barry. He's got his headphones plugged into his amp. Music can wait, right?

"Hey!" Barry says, half-yelling, half-chuckling. "You're very cuddly, aren't you?"

"Uh huh," I mumble, and kiss his neck. "Wanna snuggle."

"Aw, c'mere, you."

He drops what he's doing and joins me in bed. He feels so amazing. I love the hair on his chest, and his curves, and that pudgy stomach of his. He's been told he's fat all his life. I want him to know he's loved.

Barry touches my pecs. Yes, this feels right. I want this, even when I know I shouldn't. His broad hands trail down to my stomach and he pinches where my abs should be. All that's there is a piece of flab.

I've gained weight after all the drinking, smoking, and the food I've eaten, even though I still exercise occasionally. Barry says he likes me for who I am, but is this what Barry sees staring back at him, this flabby husk of a Machoke?

The room feels so hot. Booze, maybe? No. I feel sick.

I stagger to the bathroom and lock it behind me, then reach for the sink.

"Glen!" Barry calls through the door. "Are you okay?"

"Just–" I take in a sharp breath–"just a minute. Please."

I take a few deep breaths, then snarl at the Machoke staring back at me through the mirror. That big snout of mine makes any selfie I take with Barry look stupid. My purple skin makes me look as pale as death. These fucking red streaks across my arms look like fish gills.

The bathroom spins around me. My clammy hands slip against the porcelain of the sink. I've dealt with this before, these episodes. Barry's been so helpful getting me to cope with them, so I should be over this by now. Then why–

'Maybe it's better that Dex didn't come with you.'

Barry didn't mean it. I shouldn't even entertain the thought, but it is better. Dex'd never have to see me like this.

I spit at my own reflection, hoping it'll go away. It doesn't.

The weekend's already over and it's back to work. The crew's fine talking among themselves, and Dex seems a little more cheerful without me interrupting things, so I stay quiet.

Work ticks on like it always does. Drive here. Drive there. Help occasionally. Smoke when I'm not needed. Come home. Barry's there, and we still cuddle, but there's this… air between us. I don't know how to explain it. It's like a piece of food that's gone mouldy in the pantry but neither of us can find where it is.

The next evening after work, Barry and I watch TV in silence. It's not as if we always need to talk, not that I really want to talk about my humdrum existence. But as we turn in for the night, Barry sleeps on his side, facing away from me. I ask what's wrong, and he tells me he's anxious, but I don't know how to help him, especially with everything I'm dealing with myself. So I just spoon him and hope that's enough.

The next day passes, I do my work, clock off and get home. Barry's not there. He told me he wanted to see his friends from the other night again.

I summon enough willpower to make myself a stir-fry with mushrooms, and it doesn't taste half bad. It's nice cooking for myself for once. I wonder what it'd be like to cook for the Mach n' Van crew, or Dex. He's probably having a nice stir fry as we speak.

I stare at my half-eaten dinner while the clock ticks on. I can't find any videos to play on my phone while I dine alone, and give up after a minute of searching. I stab a charred mushroom, once, twice, three times. Then I fling the fork across the room so hard that it bends against a kitchen cupboard.

This sucks. I have nobody to talk to, except Barry. Yet that coworker of his gets to walk around freely with his boyfriend.

I swear I'm the only Pokemon in the world who has to deal with this.

I don't even say hello to Hammer the next morning, and he doesn't say hello back. I think he's stopped trying to be friendly with me. Dex is all cheerful to everyone else, but he's weird around me now too.

I don't know how long I can stay here while Dex is in the crew. I never should've taken him in. I never should've even considered raising anyone in the position I'm in. I'm an idiot for even thinking I deserve him.

The day goes by in a blur, and I drive back to the Mach n' Van base, up the steep hill that's surrounded by trees and Stantler crossing signs. I should focus on getting us up that hill, but the crew's talking to Dex.

"...a Conkeldurr made that house?" Dex asks.

"Yeah!" Rip says. "They're all, like, architects and stuff!"

"Not all of them," Hammer butts in. "You say that like a Pokemon can just up and design some mansion by themselves."

"Some of them can! Shows we can do some construction!"

"I've done construction before," Hammer grumbles. "Not my sort of thing, the way they treat Machoke there."

"Master Pillar makes these statues back home," Dex chimes in.

"Oh yeah?"

"Uh huh. She likes takin' these big chunks of stone and hammerin' them. Dunno why she makes them. But she got me to try it. It was nice."

"This Master Pillar sounds important," Hammer says.

"Yeah…"

Dex's voice lowers. He sounds sad, like he does whenever he talks about home, but my focus is on the road, not him or anyone else.

"I told, um…" He trails off again. I allow myself one glance at the rearview mirror, and I see him looking back at me. "She's kind. Like you. She said I didn't wanna go if I wasn't ready. But I… a trainer– my parents–"

Dex's voice cracks, then he starts sobbing.

"Hey…" Hammer pipes up. "Don't cry, lil' fella. What's up?"

"I wanna—" he hiccups–"wanna go home…"

I'm at the last bend on the slope while Dex is crying his eyes out. There are a set of sturdy trees in front of me.I need to keep my eyes on the road. I can't crash here. But it's hard to see when my eyes are misting up so much.

Dex… He's got nowhere else to go. I'd know what that's like, more than anyone. And I just dumped him at my workplace.

I look back. Dex's got his face buried in his hands as Hammer rubs his shoulder. I need to stop the car now, man the hell up, and be there for Dex. Salvage this somehow. I can make things right, I have to, I need to–

"GLEN!"

Hammer's scream jerks me back to the front window as a pair of Stantler sprint from nearby bushes.

I tell myself I need to make the turn, but my body doesn't register those thoughts. I swerve the wrong direction in the path of the Stantler, and they run, but I'm headed right towards the tree in front of me. I slam the brakes, but not fast enough to–

My teeth clack as we crash.

There's an awful stillness in the van. Nobody's hurt. Dex is fastened to his booster seat. But he's all wide-eyed, probably in shock. He hasn't spent long in a car, and I hoped that he'd never have to experience being in a crash.

I've been in a couple of crashes before, caused by humans who didn't look where they were going. I've never caused one myself, let alone with a goddamn kid in the car.

Hammer glares daggers at me. He knows this shouldn't have happened. He knows it's my fault. I'm done. Done…

Oh Arceus above, what have I done?

Shit, everything's so hot; I'm dying in here. I stumble out of the van and into the wilderness, hurtling towards nothing, towards something, just anywhere but that fucking van. Thistles and brambles whip my arms, my feet twist in odd positions on these uneven hills, and my chest burns, yet still, I run, I have to, I have to get out of there, I have to get out of here, have to get out of this–

I trip and hit the dirt, snout first. I see stars and taste mud. When I come to, I'm on some sort of hoof-beaten path. Wildflowers grow around the tracks, as if a stampede has forced the roots to part. And right in front of me, a bevy of Stantler bob their heads.

"Intruder!" one growls.

"Get out!" another growls, stamping their feet.

"They almost killed me!" the couple I near-missed yell in unison. "They're the enemy!"

I can make out what they're saying, but their speech sounds more animalistic than any Pokemon I'm used to hearing, more coarse, more limited. These are wild Pokemon, through and through.

I get to my knees, raising my bruised arms to try and intimidate them, but they don't back away. Deep down, I know whatever I do won't work. I'm outmatched. I can't stop staring at their antlers either. They're mesmerising. I know that's their defense against predators, but at some point, I stop caring and feel myself being sucked into those black orbs. They feel like they hold so much power. Not like me.

The buck charges at me, antlers first. I don't care. If I die here, then that's fine.

But that doesn't happen. Hammer happens. He pushes the Stantler by its antlers, his bare feet kicking up clumps of mud as he tries to anchor himself. Once he finds his footing, he lunges forward with enough force that it flips the buck on its back.

The bevy bleat and bark in distress.

"You monster!" the doe screams.

"Get him!"

Two of the four charge in at once, but Hammer dodges one of them, and punches the other in the side with so much force that it crashes into a tree. The other attacker almost steadies itself, but Hammer uses all four arms to pick it up by its rump and throw it at the other two Stantler. One of them cushions the fall of the other, and they both topple to the ground. Only the doe is left standing.

"Make like a tree and get lost, all of you!" he yells, beating his chest. "If you ever charge at us again or cross the road without looking, I'll turn you into venison!"

The Stantler stagger to their feet. The buck hobbles back to his doe, only for her to turn her head as they disappear into the forest.

Hammer did all of that. And here I thought he was huffing his own fumes the whole time. He turns back to me without even needing to take a breather.

"Hammer–" I start, only to get a knuckle sandwich from him. I tumble to the ground, tasting my own nosebleed. "Why the fuck did you do that?!"

"Because you're a huge pain in my rear!" Hammer shouts. "You've been acting like a huge jerk all week, and now you almost get us killed? Twice?! Is anything even happening in that thick skull of yours?"

I don't have the energy to lash out at him this time. He's right.

"Get up and start walking. As soon as we get back home, I'm getting your butt fired."

I haven't heard that 'f' word in ages. Fired. Sometimes, it comes with relief. Other times, it's meant a diet of instant noodles for weeks on end. Even though we're both working, it would be a blow to Barry if I stopped.

Yet, right now, this isn't about the job. I was worried I'd lose it if I ever talked about my relationship, but I've got nothing left to lose. Hammer should at least know why I've been such a shithead to him and Dex.

Just as Hammer turns to stomp off away from the forest, I take in a deep breath.

"I'm seeing a human."

Hammer stops. My blood turns cold. I've just said it. I don't feel relieved. I feel like sinking into the mud.

"I've been with him for two years." The words just tumble out despite my gnawing dread. "He's not my trainer. We just met at a gig. We wanted to raise Dex together."

I can't read Hammer's expression with his back turned to me.

"That's all I wanted. Something to look forward to. Someone like Dex. And I've fucked it up."

I dig both my dirt-crusted hands into my arms. So many things race through my mind, but my throat feels like sandpaper and I can't get anything out.

Hammer turns. His face is blank. I thought he would've been frothing at the mouth.

"You didn't think of telling me this before?" he asks.

I blink. "What?"

"Seriously, I knew you were hiding something." His shoulders sag. "Yes, I'm Mister Nosy. We've been working all this time, heck, even longer than before you met this human, and you can't even trust me with that?"

"I thought you'd hate me." I sigh. "It's not like you'd understand what it's like."

"Get over yourself." He snorts. "Jeez, some of the stories I've heard from the Machoke I've taken in would make your skin crawl."

"Really?"

"Well, it's not as if you've made an effort to get to know any of the crew. We're supposed to be a team, y'know." His eyes flash in realisation. "Oh… is this the human I called a weirdo?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Well, sorry."

My grip slackens, my arms dead weights. I don't say anything. Hammer doesn't either. The moment is still as wind rustles leaves overhead, birds chirp, and Stantler hooves beat in the distance.

"You know, Glen, I thought you were nuts for wanting to raise Dex on your own. But you're even more nuts for wanting to raise him with a human."

"That's why I can't take him in." I get to my sore knees. "I really wanted to. Still want to. And my human– I mean, Barry's so nice. He's got so much to give. I want to give something back to someone like Dex who deserves a chance. Not that I can do much now."

"And you love this human? You trust him with Dex?"

"I mean, yeah, he's fun to be around, he's a great cook, he's good with kids–"

"Okay, I don't need the whole list."

Hammer takes in a deep breath. I can see it travel down his neck and into his bulging chest. I admit, I'm jealous of his body. That might be the reason why I've been so cold to him.

He looks up. It's getting dark.

"Glen." He approaches me. "I know I've given you a lot of advice you never asked for, but I suggest you pick yourself up, apologise to Dex and invite him to your place."

"I thought you didn't want him around my crummy flat."

"Shut up a sec, Glen," he says as his back hands gesticulate. "I said it was gonna be tough. I didn't say it wasn't doable. I mean, what do I know? I've never rented before."

"But how do I tell Dex about Barry?"

"I dunno. You've brought this on yourself. But if you're gonna get involved in his life, and if you really wanna help him or give him a place he can call home, then do it. If he doesn't like you being with a human, he'll find someone else. At least it shows you've made an effort."

It takes me some time to process what he's saying, and I still can't quite believe what I'm hearing. I have too many questions I want to ask, but that doesn't matter as Hammer's offering me his hand. I look him up and down. He's nicked with little cuts from the brambles and thistles too.

I take it, and he pulls me up with his firm grip, then pats my back. But he doesn't let go. He's hugging me.

I can feel his warmth, just like Barry's. It's almost too much. I feel like crying, but I know that the last thing Hammer needs is another blubbering mess on his hands, so I keep it in and let go.

"You good?" he asks, to which I nod. "Good. Then let's get back."

We follow the hoof trail back to where I crashed the van. The rest of the gang is doing stretches on the side of the road. Dex is sitting on the bank, pulling up blades of grass. He looks up at me, then looks back down. Everyone else is giving me a hard stare, expecting me to work my magic. The front of the van is all dinged up. It's not totalled, as it only bent the front, but there's smoke billowing from the front. The radiator's busted. One other skill that got me through life was the ability to fix cars, but I can't fix this.

"We need to get it towed," I say.

There's a collective groan.

"Awww!" Rip throws his head back. "I'm gonna miss the Rex Revolver match!"

"Quit your whining," Hammer snarls. "Glen, make yourself useful and tell me how far we've got to the base."

I type in the address on our maps app. "A one minute drive."

Of course, we were literally a minute away before the crash. Just my luck. It's going to take about half an hour at the least for a tow driver to come, with how remote the Mach n' Van base is.

Without even stopping, Hammer single-handedly pushes the van back onto the road.

"Alright, everyone, help me push this up!"

The crew hops to it right away, even Rip. With Hammer's coordination, they're able to turn it to face the hill. All they need to do is push it.

In all my time working, I've never seen anything like this. I know we're strong, but I didn't know we were that strong together. I'd say it's inspiring if I still had that sort of power. The only one left behind is Dex, who's still sitting on the grass.

I sit beside him, tucking my knees to my chest. I don't quite know how to make it up to him. I don't know how I can. But I need to try.

Dex breathes in and out. I breathe in and out with him. After a while, it feels like we're in sync. That's a good opportunity for me to speak up.

"Hammer told me you were mad at me the other day."

"Uh huh.." Dex sniffles and wipes his bloodshot eyes. "You're mean."

I deserve that. "I'm sorry. I should've checked in to see how you were doing."

"You're mean to the Machoke too. They always say you ignore them. They just wanna talk."

I sigh. "I know that now."

He stands up and punches my shoulder. Ow. The kid can actually pack a mean punch, though I don't show it hurts. I can't be mad at him. He gasps at my bloody nose.

"Your face."

I wipe my dried blood with a handkerchief. "Hammer gave me a good telling off."

"Good." He crosses his arms and turns his head away.

"I'm sorry, Dex. I'm really sorry, I so badly wanted to be your dad–"

"I don't want new parents." Even though it must hurt for him to say, he keeps it together. "I just don't wanna be left behind."

"You won't. You have Hammer and the crew."

Dex still doesn't turn. I sigh, knowing he needs to hear me say this.

"And you have me. I want you in my life even if I might not be your dad, Dex. You're great. I'm not gonna give up on you."

I'm on my knees, almost begging for him to hear me out.

"I didn't take you in because I was afraid you'd be unhappy with me." I try to smile, even though it hurts. "But I was being an idiot."

Dex turns, though he's still cross with me.

"We never got to have dinner together. I want to show you my place first. There's someone very special I want you to meet too. He plays music. I know you like music too. I think you'll like each other.

His shoulders relax.

"You don't have to stay. You may not want to. But I want to give you a choice, Dex. It's your life."

"My life." He blinks, and looks back up at me. Then he looks at the van. "Should we help them?"

"Yeah."

Dex steps forward, about to go with the crew, but he turns back to me, tilting his head. "When can I come around?"

He still wants to see us. See me. But he's got to make up his mind about Barry yet.

"How about tomorrow? We can do that Bunnelby stew."

He only gives a slight smile, but it's enough. "Sounds good."

Dex joins the crew pushing the van uphill. I join them too, thinking I'll just be dead weight. They're handling it just fine. But they ever so slightly advance up the hill quicker with me around.

We somehow push it all the way up to the driveway before collapsing in a panting heap. That's probably the most exercise I've gotten in a while. I can't imagine how Hammer feels, as even he's sprawled out on the lawn, huffing and puffing.

The human owners run over to us. The man, pushing fifty, handles most of the logistics, sorting out van repairs and renovations for the lodging, and is the closest to Hammer. The woman, firmly in her fifties, is the brains of the operation, getting customers for us, sorting out pay, and dealing with the administrative stuff I'm glad I don't have to deal with. Together, they're a freaking power couple.

"What happened?" the man yells. "Are you guys alright?"

I lazily wave a hand up.

"We crashed–" I say in between breaths–"blame the Stantler."

"I told them to get those things off the bloody road!"

"Radiator's busted too."

The woman huffs. "That'll cost me more than an arm. Oh well, glad you made it back."

The man investigates the van and checks on Hammer while the woman goes back into the house. I get to my feet and pat my muddy clothes. I so badly need a shower and a smoke. It'd be so tempting to go back to my place and crash, but I don't even know if I have a job after this.

Hammer gets up before the rest do. He signs something to the human with all four hands, and the human signs back at staggering speeds. So they don't need to speak to communicate with one another. Are they talking about me? The human's checking the van, so he isn't on my ass about what happened.

Hammer's about to go back in the house, but I tail after him, stopping him by the annex door.

"What do you want, Mister Stalker?" he says, gesturing to his mud-caked legs. "I'm filthy."

I know I should leave him to shower off, but I just can't hang around while my job is in jeopardy.

"So, what happens now? With the job, I mean."

"Well, the van's fine. Nobody got hurt. I expect to see you tomorrow."

"I thought you were gonna fire me."

"I'm well within my right to." He huffs. "Whatever. Just don't screw this up next time."

Somehow, I'm relieved, even if it isn't a job I'm over the moon about taking. "Thank you. So that's it today?"

"Yeah, unless you wanna hang around for paella tonight, not that you have to." He grins. "I hope your boyfriend isn't holding you hostage."

"Of course he isn't."

"I'm only joking." He chuckles and slaps my back before he heads back inside. I'm not that annoyed when he does it this time.

I look out to the crew who are playing football in the garden as if nothing happened. Huh, I've only seen them pull that ball out a few times. Dex is standing to the side, tilting his head at this strange game they're playing, but Rip kicks the ball to him and Dex passes it back. They go back and forth, and Rip points to the field, probably showing the kid the ropes.

I don't need to stay here. I'm seeing everyone else tomorrow anyway. I don't even know if I'm good at football. Yet I think back to my outing with Barry and his nerdy human friends, and know I don't belong with them on that board game table.

I don't quite know what I'm going to do tonight, but I hope I'll make my mind up on the phone to Barry.

"Hey, Glen!" he says. He sounds happy to hear from me.

"Yo." I take a deep breath. Might as well tear the bandaid off. "So, long story short, I've spoken to Dex about coming to our place. He wants dinner tomorrow, if possible."

"Wait, what?" Barry's voice rises. "So you are inviting him around?"

"Yeah." Oh, right, again, I made a decision on his behalf when I called the thing off to begin with. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine, it's just…" He hums. "What made you change your mind?"

Should I tell him I spilled my guts out to Hammer? No, not yet.

"My mind never changed. I always wanted him around. I was just being a dumbass."

"You're not. Don't worry. It'll be nice to see him."

"It will be." Another deep breath. Deep breaths, one two. There's so much I want to get off my chest. "Barry. Things have been weird between us all week."

"It's been a weird week." He sighs. "You know it's been the usual for me, but I think I needed some time out of the house. I'm feeling better for it, though."

"So things are still cool between us?"

"Yeah? And yourself?"

I mull over what to say. I never know how to answer that, like those questions he asks about how work went. But talking to Hammer solved things. Why can't I do the same with Barry?

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I've just been worried–"

"I'm still sorry about what I said the other night. I don't think we really resolved that still."

A beat, then Barry hums.

"It's okay. I said some hurtful stuff too."

"You did. I really don't appreciate the comment about Dex. I know you didn't mean it, but that's fucked me up all week, if I'm being honest."

"I figured. I was trying not to beat myself up about it all week." He sighs. "If it helps, I think you would be a great dad."

I try not to let those words sting me. I can't be a dad to Dex, but maybe I can be the next best thing.

"Okay." I flex my bruised knuckles. "And I'm sorry again for punching the wall. I thought I was better than that."

"It's fine, we'll cover it up."

I don't think the landlord would agree, but that's beside the point.

"Dex wants Bunnelby stew, by the way. I didn't get to tell you that before, but that's his favourite dish."

"I'll see what I can do. I like a good challenge."

"Looking forward to it."

I think Barry fancies burgers tonight. It hits the spot sometimes even though it's gross and fatty. But honestly? I fancy something with rice. I haven't had a dish like that since Barry's curry. Whatever Hammer's cooking up in the kitchen smells gorgeous and onion-y. Dex would like it.

"And don't worry about dinner tonight. The Machamp here's got his signature paella."