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

"Come on Trapinch! Just a bit further, you're almost at the line!"

After the embarrassment I'd just experienced at Owen's house, I was attempting to get my mind off what had happened by focusing all my attention on training Trapinch, once again in the Pokécenter recreation room.

Not just our standard training either – agility training. More specifically, she was currently doing lateral jumps to improve her mobility, even if it wouldn't benefit her anymore once she eventually evolved and became airborne. I was running on the assumption she was a ways off from evolving considering her obvious lack of battle experience, so it felt like a good idea to invest some time into making sure she wasn't so stationary that she couldn't win a battle.

Owen had technically accompanied me to the Pokécenter, giving me the impression he wanted to keep an eye on me, but he was thankfully letting me do my own thing. He was currently on the far side of the room dealing with a very hyperactive and unruly Omar, trying to make as much progress as possible in getting him under control before reporting that he now possessed a restricted species to Nurse Joy. We'd been there for over an hour now and Nurse Joy hadn't come down to call him out on it yet, so I could only take that as confirmation that Nurse Joy didn't actively watch the security cameras I could clearly see poking out of the ceiling.

As suspected, Omar had not been happy to see me initially, and for that matter Misha hadn't either. Though I was way too far away to hear what was said, Owen had released them individually and tried to talk them into forgiving me for punching him, at least that's what I gathered based on the occasional glances and gestures towards me. Misha was the most successful, as she went from scornfully glaring daggers at me to occasionally eyeing me with mild annoyance after a few minutes of Owen talking to her.

When we'd come to the Pokécenter together after Owen's parents had gone to work, he'd initially tried to lightly prod me for information on what had caused me to freak out. When he realized I didn't want to talk about it, he thankfully dropped the topic and joked about how I should probably train on the far side of the recreation room until his team could forgive me for punching him, which I agreed to gladly since I wanted some space anyway.

Despite that, I did offer to apologize to his team directly and explain my side of the story, but Owen thought it would be best if he handled it himself. He'd surely tried too, but my current assessment was that the only way to mend things with them was by seeing me and Owen getting along again, as well as giving them time to forgive me. I still thought that it would be a good idea to properly apologize when the opportunity arose, even if I didn't exactly regret what I'd done, but today clearly wasn't that day.

Mostly, that was because of Omar. While Misha could listen to reason and respect her trainer's wish to contain her open hostility for more subtle, passive-aggressive disapproval of me, Omar wasn't so easy to talk sense into.

Although it was common knowledge that evolution triggered some drastic changes in a Pokémon, people tended to focus solely on the physical aspects. Changes in physiology and strength were the most obvious of course, but for Omar I would hazard to say that by far the biggest change he had experienced was his overall demeanor.

Honestly, the change was so drastic it kind of scared me, leaving me to wonder how unrecognizable some of my own team might become after evoluting. I could imagine Duran getting even grumpier and more solitary after evolving as he adopted a secondary dark-typing, but I felt like he'd still be the same Duran I'd always known for the most part. I didn't anticipate Orion would change much no matter what Eeveelution he ended up becoming, and I had high hopes that Apollo would largely be the same loveable partner I'd always known, perhaps just more confident and capable.

But I was questioning all of that the more I observed Omar. He was unrecognizable, and I struggled to see any semblance of the Omar I'd grown to know in his new form, although admittedly I'd never claim to have known Omar very well as a Slakoth. The same could technically be said about all of Owen's Pokémon – sure, I knew their general personalities and got along with them well enough on the rare occasion that we did directly interact, but I'd never gotten to know any of them nearly as well as I had some of Samantha's team, namely Stella and to a lesser extent Chase.

Despite that, I'd felt as though I had a pretty good read on Omar. A product of his species, he'd always been lazy and low-energy, sleeping away the vast majority of his days. The most active I ever saw him was when he gave brief periods of physical exertion during training, or while nibbling on a few leaves or a berry before once again going back to sleep, which made sense considering he didn't burn many calories. He'd always stricken me as easy-going and carefree, never getting particularly invested in anything, even training, although that could have just been me assigning attributes to him personally based on the limitations of his species.

But after his evolution, everything I thought I knew about Omar was thrown completely out the window.

Omar was no longer lazy and tired, but hyperactive and restless – completely incapable of standing still or paying attention for more than very brief periods. It was almost like not moving physically pained him, or as though there was a constant itch to keep his body moving that demanded to be scratched. A quick scan with my Pokédex from afar reflected much of what Owen's father had said about stress resulting in an endless rampage, and included a curious line about Vigoroth having 'agitated blood' that contributed to their need to constantly move, which seemed to explain that 'itch' I felt like I was observing.

He was no longer sluggish and weak, but agile and vicious – constantly running around and climbing on everything in sight. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that he could easily outrun me, and probably even Orion save for when using Quick Attack. It was like I was witnessing a lifetime of conserved energy finally being unleashed, and the more I observed him the more I began to wonder if he would ever tire out enough to calm down.

He no longer nibbled on a tiny bit of food once a day, but required frequent snacks to make up for his new metabolism and seemingly boundless energy. Owen had thankfully brought his space-tech berry pouch, and from what I could tell it looked like he was quickly running out after tossing berries every five or ten minutes to appease Omar when he got especially riled up, which seemed to happen a lot.

But it only calmed him marginally, and he never stopped moving about while he ate. It was dizzying to watch, and I couldn't imagine how he would possibly be able to hang around camp if Owen and I ever resumed journeying together.

The differences between Omar before and after evolving were day and night, and the only indication I had that the original Omar was somewhere buried in there was the fact that he seemed to very purposely make sure his fits of rage weren't directed at either Misha or Owen, though the same couldn't be said for the recreation room. He'd already torn up a few patches of grass and left some deep gashes in a nearby tree, seemingly addicted to flexing his new capabilities. He was using either Slash or Fury Swipes if I had to guess, but it was hard to tell because his attacks all seemed to include swinging his arms wildly, almost in a pinwheel motion.

Apart from menacing the room, which I couldn't help but wonder if Nurse Joy would get upset about or if it was expected and regularly fixed, Omar would occasionally charge at me when he happened to catch sight of me. Thankfully I was far enough away that there wasn't any real threat of him reaching me, and Owen was quick on the draw to return him long before there was any serious threat of injury. But it was still nerve-wracking to occasionally hear him bellow only to turn and see him barreling towards me upon recognizing me and remembering how I'd wronged his trainer. It made me all the more grateful that Omar had such an incredibly short attention span, because after getting released again a few moments later facing away from me, he'd have already completely forgotten about me.

Until the next time he happened to notice me again, and so the cycle continued.

I did my best to ignore it for the most part, although I found myself both amused and interested in Owen's struggles to reign in his partner, since I suspected I might experience something similar once Trapinch evolved and her draconic side began to show more.

Speaking of Trapinch, she was being surprisingly compliant, most likely due to the earlier incident of her being stopped in her tracks when attempting to attack Warren. I could tell she wasn't exactly the biggest fan of the physical exercises I'd gotten her started on, but she was being a good sport about it and giving it a fair shot. Though she had rather stubby legs, she wasn't nearly as bad at jumping as I would have thought, and could potentially hop far enough to get her entire body out of the way of an attack directed at her. Because of that, I wanted to work on her mobility, as I really didn't see her winning many battles if she was too stationary. I'd had her practicing her running and charging a little bit, but it seemed to me that being able to bait an attack, dodge, and counter-attack was likely her best chance of winning battles.

I'd started the session more traditionally by having her practice Dig and Sand Attack in the sandbox portion of the recreation room, as she'd become rather adept at using Dig on solid ground and I didn't want her tearing up the room despite Omar already setting some precedent for it. If Owen wanted to risk incurring Nurse Joy's wrath, that was his right, but I'd done that enough for one lifetime. With my record freshly cleaned and having gotten extremely lucky with getting away with what had transpired earlier in the morning, I wasn't keen on pressing my luck by doing anything that could get me on Nurse Joy's bad side again.

Given how things had gone for me historically, it seemed likely that I'd accidentally do that at some point, so I figured I might as well try to keep the slate clean so I could possibly receive some leniency when it inevitably happened. Or that was the justification, anyway. Truthfully, an angry Nurse Joy was just a frightening thing that I wanted to avoid at all costs.

Trapinch had plenty of determination and the desire to improve, and was currently completely fixated on performing alternating leaps to the side, trying her best to jump over both lines that I'd marked in the dirt after getting a feel for how far she could do it consistently.

Despite making steady progress, it had become abundantly clear that she didn't exactly appreciate having me micromanage her or constantly cheer her on. Apart from giving her a goal and some very occasional guidance and encouragement, she was perfectly content to practice and figure things out on her own. Though I still kept an eye on her and interjected when I felt it necessary, it provided me an opportunity to observe Owen's session from afar, something I couldn't help but admire.

Honestly, I was deeply impressed with how far Owen had already come with Omar. Though I wouldn't say he'd quite gotten him under control, I also couldn't claim that Omar completely ignored him either. Misha seemed more wary of Omar than Owen did, and appeared to have decided to take the role of Owen's bodyguard for the entire session, watching over the proceedings and remaining ready to act in case Omar decided to attack Owen.

Which, frankly, I was amazed hadn't happened yet. In my personal opinion, Owen was far too trusting of Omar, frequently putting himself within arms reach despite the possibility of taking a life-threatening Slash in the blink of an eye with little hope of Misha being able to react before it was too late. From what I could tell, Owen wasn't so much having a training session as he was just getting to know the new Omar and experimenting with how best to handle and direct him. He was definitely making progress too, and although I didn't know exactly what level of control you had to show over a restricted species to be cleared to keep it, I suspected that he was quickly approaching that threshold.

Trapinch snapped her jaws and chirped, drawing my attention away from observing Owen and Omar. I glanced down to see she had finally made it across the line, and had to resist the urge to bend down and give her physical affection, instead opting to give her a warm smile and a golf clap.

"Great job! Trust me, side-stepping will do wonders for you in future battles, especially if you counter with Bite or Fury Cutter. I have some other things I want to work on, but I think you've earned a break. You've been working hard, and it shows."

She was panting from the effort, but seemed rather pleased with herself at achieving another one of the goals I'd set. I'd learned throughout our session that she gave her best effort when given a difficult challenge, such as trying to Dig from one end of the sandbox to the other in ten seconds or less, or getting her Sand Attack to go a foot further than the baseline she'd set at the beginning of our session.

Every challenge I'd given her, she'd overcome. The only problem was that once I gave her a challenge, she refused to give up until she accomplished it. In the Dig time trial, there was a point where I'd come to realize it was probably too challenging for her to pull off, and I'd tried to tell her that she'd shown enough improvement that we should move on to something else.

She'd refused. She was incredibly stubborn, which was both a good and a bad thing in different ways, but I was getting a good sense of the best way to work with her – I just needed to be careful to set goals that weren't so difficult she would get stuck trying to do the impossible. Thankfully we had nothing but time, but I didn't want to find out how she might react if we were traveling and had to pack up before she was able to accomplish her goal.

I was feeling fairly good about where things stood between us, and hadn't felt the need to hold onto her Luxury Ball in case she suddenly tried to attack me. Even so, I'd kept a few paces of distance between and taken care not to touch her, even though there were multiple times I instinctively wanted to while praising her efforts. But with how things were going, and after watching Owen putting himself in possible harm's way with Omar without a second thought, I felt like it was time for me to let my guard down and make myself a little more vulnerable around her.

I took a deep breath, prayed to Arceus that I wouldn't end up back in the hospital, and then walked over and sat right beside her. Not a few paces away, and not in a position that would let me quickly react if she decided to take a chunk out of me, but easily within striking distance. I had my feet planted on the ground in front of me and was leaning back on my hands for support, doing my best to act like it wasn't a big deal and purposely showing vulnerability with the hopes she might note and appreciate it.

She took a step away and looked at me with suspicion, clearly a little uncomfortable with how close I'd just gotten and seemingly wary that I was about to touch her. I just gave her a faint smile and turned my attention to Owen as he seemingly tried to get Omar to do… something, which didn't seem to be going so well.

"You know, trained Pokémon usually have a name," I noted as I watched Owen clap his hands together and call Omar's name as he scaled one of the rock formations with impressive speed, attempting to get him to return to whatever it was they'd been trying to work on.

Though I didn't notice any reaction from Trapinch, I continued despite the nervousness I was beginning to feel that I was seconds from her deciding to Bite me. "You've probably noticed already, but all the Pokémon that Owen and I have partnered with have names. It's another way to stand out from others of your species – to show you aren't just another Trapinch that can be easily messed with."

I was putting a lot of spin on my approach to the topic, trying to make it sound more appealing to her when all I truly wanted was yet another small step forward in our relationship. I'd been postponing giving Trapinch a name because I wasn't sure she would be staying with us, and frankly, I still wasn't. But I was realizing that although I didn't have the courage to outright ask her given the circumstances, I shouldn't keep her at a distance just because there was a chance things might not work out.

It would suck if I ended up releasing Trapinch after training and naming her, but I wanted to keep moving forward. I considered the rest of my team to be my family and wanted to feel the same way about Trapinch, but that would never happen if I kept treating her as I had been.

It was at that moment that I realized that if my end goal was to grow closer to Trapinch, I shouldn't be trying to manipulate her. I'd learned my lesson with Samantha – poisoning the well early in a relationship would only cause future regrets, and while it might be true that I hadn't expected to actually become close friends with Samantha, I knew I wanted that with Trapinch.

"I'll be honest, you don't need a name," I suddenly admitted as I looked down at her seriously. "I embellish– er, made it sound like a bigger deal than it is. There are tons of powerful, trained Pokémon who never get a name. I only said that because I've named every one of my team members, and I want you to join us… To become a part of our rag-tag family. But you don't need a name, and I shouldn't try to trick you into thinking you need one just because it's what I want. That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry."

Trapinch stared up at me, processing what I'd said and looking mildly confused. Her grasp on the human language was still a work in progress, but I knew that Pokémon had a way of gathering the general meaning and sentiment behind what a person said, and they learned to understand words remarkably fast. I continued, doing my best to keep it as simple and straightforward as I could.

"I'm also sorry you're stuck on this island with me. You never asked for this, you're only here because I was selfish. When I saw you were a Trapinch and realized what you had the potential to become, I couldn't help myself. Ever since I was a kid, I've always wanted to train a dragon. They're notoriously difficult to train, yet remarkably powerful. Dragons tend to be pretty rare, so I figured I'd have to go out of my way to look for one when I was further into the circuit and felt more ready to train one. Then, you fell into my lap…. Or, I guess I fell into your trap, and you fell into my Pokéball. But I suddenly had an opportunity I'd always dreamed of, one I might not get again, so I took it."

I shook my head ruefully. "It's ironic that I'd accuse Warren of bullying you when I'm no better. I captured you without even giving you a fair fight or any choice in the matter, took you from your home, then what did I do? I dangled your evolution in front of you like a carrot, called you weak and cowardly as Duran knocked you around when he's trained and has a type advantage, then I promise you could go home when it's convenient for me if you'll cooperate in the meantime."

I sighed, leaning back and staring at the recreation room's ceiling. "Someone I'm not exactly fond of called me trash. On multiple occasions, actually. I brushed it off at the time, but you know… I can be pretty scummy at times. I think it's probably because I… Well, I won't bore you with my life story. But I've been trying to be better ever since I started journeying. Put myself out there and socialize, make friends, trust others, that sort of thing. It's a work in progress, but I'm getting there slowly."

I glanced over to see Trapinch just staring at me with no discernable expression or reaction. I wasn't sure how much of what I was saying was completely lost on her, but I'd half expected her to have lost interest in my ramblings in favor of watching whatever it was Owen and Omar were currently doing, since observing them was a near endless source of entertainment.

But she wasn't. She was staring right at me, and she seemed to be listening attentively, though I had no idea what she was thinking or feeling.

"If only I had Apollo here to tell me what you are feeling, then I would have a hint at what I should say to sway you into doing what I want," I couldn't help but joke sarcastically, realizing how bad it was that I'd even had that thought given the circumstances. There was definitely a time and place for Apollo's added context, especially when talking to Pokémon I had trouble deciphering, but I was realizing I'd gotten into the habit of borderline weaponizing it, something I needed to try to police myself on.

I sat up with a stretch, "Anyways, I won't try to talk you into anything. You don't need to join my team, and you don't need a name… unless you want one?"

I decided I might as well ask outright, because I doubted I'd have the nerve to broach the topic again after tainting it. Trapinch seemed to consider the offer, and after a moment she did a quick snap of her jaws.

"I'm not sure what that means," I admitted. "How about from now on, you do one snap or chirp for yes, and two for no. So, did you want a name?"

Without hesitation, she snapped her jaws in response… twice. I felt my heart drop and took it as a sign that things weren't going nearly as well between us as I'd hoped, at least not after the gambit I'd just taken. Though I'd been too reluctant to ask if she'd decided to stay with us since her answer wouldn't currently change anything, I'd thought that her seeing how strong my team had been in our gym battle might have been enough to sway her, and that accepting a name would show we were on track to becoming partners someday.

But clearly, I'd been a bit too optimistic. It made me question if her cooperation had only been because she was stuck with me and thought that it would make her life easier until she could return to her 'desert paradise'. It was probably also why she didn't mind spending so much time in her Luxury Ball too – because it reminded her of the home she wanted to return to.

I nodded in acceptance, forcing a smile and doing my best to hide how crestfallen I was. "Fair enough, no name… Just to make sure, do you still want to keep training?"

I felt a little better when she let loose a single chirp, giving her a genuine grin. "If nothing else, it will help us pass the time until the lockdown ends. It's not like we've got much else to do in the meantime, so we might as well work on making you stronger, right? I'm going to train you as long as you're interested, and when I'm finally able to make it back to Mauville, you'll have the opportunity to return home. Until then, let's make the best of our circumstances and try to get along. I can't promise you that you'll evolve before then, especially since we can't do much battling with everything that's going on, but I can promise that you'll be stronger than ever before."

Unlike evolution, that was a promise I felt comfortable making. I stood with a stretch, deciding that we'd done enough training for the time being and that I wanted some time alone to explore Dewford and contemplate things. I'd been purposely putting the incident with Warren from my mind, but after that talk with Trapinch I felt like I had to sort some things out before they kept piling on too much.

"You trained hard and made some good progress today, so take a well-deserved rest. I should be able to get you a nice meal by nightfall thanks to Owen's dad agreeing to help, since I know you must be getting hungry."

Trapinch looked like she was about to protest, but I recalled her anyway. She was probably just feeling particularly driven to get stronger after being so easily dismissed earlier, but I could tell she was tired and I didn't want to let her push herself too hard.

I glanced over at Owen, noting that he somehow had Omar's attention and appeared to be trying to demonstrate the proper technique for throwing a punch. At first I didn't understand why he would be trying to teach Omar how to punch when his biggest assets were his claws, but once I saw him do his interpretation of what Owen was teaching him, my jaw dropped.

Omar's form was bad – he refused to plant his feet and did more of an uppercut than a straight-forward punch like Owen had shown him, but I was left equally impressed and mortified by Omar's punch nonetheless due to one key thing.

Flames, or at least the faintest flickering wisps of them. Though Omar was still trying to get the hang of it, at some point when I hadn't been paying attention, Owen had gone from learning to deal with Omar's new personality quirks to deciding he should be the first to benefit from the TM that Flannery had given him. I couldn't help but notice that Misha looked slightly disturbed as she watched, likely because she was a small grass-type and Omar was plenty intimidating before learning how to throw flaming punches.

I shared the sentiment – I felt like the last thing Omar needed was the ability to set things on fire while rampaging, but clearly Owen didn't share our hesitancy.

It dawned on me that Misha was likely also a bit jealous, no doubt she was looking forward to her own evolution to begin contributing to Owen's goal of being a fighting-type specialist. I was sure she wasn't far off though – in fact, I was surprised that it hadn't happened already, considering grass-types were typically quicker to evolve than most, almost on par with bug-types.

Realizing I was once again distracting myself by dwelling on the potential fallout of Owen having taught Omar Fire Punch, I shouted at Owen that I was leaving, not wanting to be rude by disappearing without saying anything.

He glanced up at me, then said something to Omar who thankfully seemed so transfixed on trying to figure out his new move that he didn't pay any mind to me. Owen scooped up Misha in his arms and jogged over to me, leaving Omar to the task at hand.

"Where are you going? I think Omar has finally blown off some steam, so I could wrap up and join you," he offered.

I shook my head, "Nah, I want to take in the sights and think about some things, maybe do some meditating. Besides, shouldn't you go check in with Nurse Joy now that you've got Omar somewhat under control? If you wait too long to report that you've got a restricted species, you'll probably get in trouble."

"Yeah, probably," he conceded with a sigh, clearly a bit nervous about it. "I'm not sure how long the review takes, or if she'll even do it today, but I'll call you in a little while and we can meet up, alright? I can take you Paulo Pokes for lunch, you'll seriously love their poke bowls."

"Sure, but speaking of possibly getting in trouble…" I pointed at Omar, who was currently thrashing about and tearing into the grass, his short attention span and volatile temper once again getting the better of him.

"Crap," Owen muttered with a pained look on his face. "He's been a handful, to say the least. But it's great that he's so spirited and lively, I can't wait until I can get him into some battles once lockdown ends and I'm more confident he won't go overboard."

"You sure you should have taught him Fire Punch so soon?" I couldn't help but ask. "He just evolved today, and I hate to say it but he was plenty destructive without knowing how to conjure fire."

Owen gave a sheepish grin laced with guilt. "I couldn't help myself, dude. I wanted to celebrate the occasion, ya know? I also thought it'd be good to give him something new to focus on, but he doesn't exactly have the best attention span."

"I've noticed," I remarked, glancing down at Misha. She didn't seem nearly as mad at me after seeing that we were getting along, but it helped that she seemed preoccupied with staring rather longingly at Omar as he bounded around and 'enjoyed' his new body. I decided to offer her some words of encouragement and sympathy, hoping to cement myself in her good graces once again.

"I bet Misha is close to evolving," I commented, drawing her attention. "Enjoy being small enough for Owen to carry you while you can, because soon you'll be just as big as Omar. In no time, you'll be throwing punches and giving Omar a run for his money, I'm sure of it."

Owen nodded in firm agreement, giving Misha a confident smile as she leered up at him. "He's right. You're definitely close, I can feel it. Especially if you keep training and battling as hard as you have. We'll get back to it tomorrow, just remember what we talked about – no overdoing it. I'll do my best to keep a better eye on you, and Danny has permission to punch me again if I don't."

I smirked, "I'd expect you to do the same. Are we still going to do our first fighting lesson tonight? You can teach me to do it harder next time."

Owen beamed, "Sounds good to me! I better get back to Omar before he accidentally starts a fire or something. I'll call ya soon, wish me luck with Nurse Joy, I'll need it!"

I did just that, and soon found myself wandering the streets of Dewford alone for the first time since arriving, although it wouldn't quite end up being the peaceful, contemplative stroll I had hoped.

As different as Dewford was from all the other places I'd ever been, I didn't end up spending too much time in town.

There were a couple of reasons, the first being that there honestly wasn't a ton to see. The core of Dewford was rather small, and there were roughly only twenty or so buildings and a small street market, though many stalls were empty and it wasn't particularly busy or interesting. In fairness though, it was mid-day on a weekday and we were currently in the middle of a region-wide lockdown, which surely was hampering business and keeping most people at home as they waited for the dust to settle.

By far the most interesting thing was the tropical scenery, and the fact that most buildings were more akin to log cabins and wooden shacks. There were obviously a few exceptions, such as the modernized Pokémart and Pokécenter, but combined with the palm trees and lush greenery it was a rather peaceful aesthetic that I enjoyed immersing myself in.

Well, mostly. The main reason I ended up cutting my exploration of Dewford short was because there was an overall air of discontent among the locals. I overheard grumblings about the beaches, piers and docks all being closed, which seemed to be severely affecting their normal way of life. They couldn't surf, windsail, swim, fish, sunbathe, or do something called a 'beach bash', which a quick search on my phone informed me was basically a party on the beach with a bonfire, music, and a lot of food.

Being unable to fish or receive cargo shipments surely helped explain the empty market stalls, and with the docks closed no ferries were running to the mainland, which seemed to be one of the biggest gripes among the locals. I wouldn't have guessed that Dewford residents left the island very often, but from what I overheard it sounded like it happened a lot more frequently than I'd imagined. I even heard one person joking that they missed having tourists around, and how he never thought he'd say that.

Apart from the general atmosphere of Dewford feeling strained, there was also the fact that I was very obviously an outsider, and I was becoming increasingly convinced that I was the palest person on the entire island despite the fact I wasn't unusually pale compared to most mainlanders. I probably looked extra strange wearing shorts and a hoodie as well, not that I could exactly blame anyone for finding it weird.

I told myself those were the only reasons I was drawing so many eyes, and hoped that it wasn't because they recognized me from the video of the Lavaridge attack. I didn't notice any of them glaring, whispering, or pointing, and felt a little better that they seemed more curious than anything. Regardless, I decided that I wanted to find somewhere away from people where I could just enjoy the scenery and think, so I wandered a little past the edge of town and found a secluded hill overlooking the beach and ocean, choosing a palm tree to lean against and relax as my mind began to wander.

I once again felt stuck in an unfamiliar place, and while I would admit that my situation in Dewford was marginally better than it had been in Lavaridge, I still didn't feel comfortable. I didn't doubt that Dewford would be a pleasant place with a lot of charm under normal circumstances, but these were anything but.

In truth, I doubted there was anywhere I'd have felt comfortable. Lockdown and online notoriety aside, so long as I was separated from Apollo, Duran, and Orion, I knew I would have a feeling of persistent unease.

I wanted to see them – just to make sure they were alright, and to show them that I was too. Just five minutes would have done wonders for me, but I couldn't even have that.

"Are you seriously sulking on a beautiful day like this?"

I glanced behind me and felt instantly on edge as I noticed none other than Warren leaning against a tree with his arms crossed, a disapproving look on his face.

"Stay away from me," I said shakily as I scrambled to my feet, stepping back to put more distance between us.

"Or what?" he asked with a raised brow.

"Or I'll tell your boss you attacked the person you were supposed to protect," I countered with more confidence than I felt, feeling that was a better threat than threatening to call the Rangers.

"Attacked…" he scoffed. "You really are quite dramatic, you know that?"

"What would you call it?" I barked, feeling myself shifting from being nervous to angry. "Why did you even do that? I know for a fact that's illegal. You might be a big shot who can get away with a lot of things most people can't, but you can't force your way into someone's head. That's about the most vile thing a person could do."

"Nobody forced their way into anything," he corrected me with a disapproving look. "You let us in, and you weren't harmed. It's not my fault you crumbled to your knees, pissed yourself, and wailed like a child after the telepathic equivalent of a poke."

I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists tightly, my anger reaching an all-time high. I was extremely tempted to call Samantha right then and there, something I'd decided to put off until I had a chance to think about what had happened, but I'd been pushing the event from my mind since the embarrassment was so raw and hadn't had the chance to fully consider it.

But as I seriously considered doing it right then, I realized something. As much as I hated to admit it, Warren was right – he hadn't actually harmed me. Though I hadn't noticed it at the time, the pressure he'd applied was much more on par with what Stella had done at the very beginning of her mental defense training, and nowhere near the debilitating, ever-increasing pressure I'd experienced with the Claydol.

In fact, I hadn't even been left with any sort of lasting headache from the incident with Warren, and all the soreness I felt was entirely thanks to the heavy workout I'd done in the morning with Owen. I hadn't writhed on the floor, lost my ability to sense and process the world around me, or any of the other tell-tale signs that I had been subjected to a serious mental assault.

My reactions had been entirely reflexive. I wasn't forced to my knees or experiencing any sort of migraine that would merit holding my head, I'd done that all on my own accord. I'd been so completely sure that I was about to experience something on par with or even more traumatic than what had happened with the Claydol that I'd completely shut down and folded as a defensive mechanism, assuming that submission was the only sensible option.

Similarly, my screaming and the 'accident' that had me currently wearing shorts hadn't been a result of me losing control of my body, but was something I'd done out of pure terror.

"Why would you even do that, as some sort of petty revenge or fucked-up form of entertainment? I felt you digging around in my head!" I nearly shouted in frustrated accusation.

"For your own good. Would you calm down? You're exhausting to deal with," he sighed.

I'd never been one who resorted to violence, at least I could say that with complete confidence until punching Owen. I had always prided myself at being able to ignore and brush off people who tried to get under my skin – I'd done it with kids at the orphanage who saw me as a weird loner, and even in cases where I was truly bothered, I was usually content to retaliate with words like when I'd first met Preston.

Perhaps it was because I was feeling on edge due to being separated from my team, but for the second time that day I really wanted to punch someone. It felt like I was talking to a brick wall with Warren, and was getting extremely sick of him belittling and provoking me.

But I didn't – not only because I knew there was no chance of me even getting close enough to land a hit with an Alakazam surely lurking around, but I also didn't want to know what it would be like to find myself on the receiving end of a Gengar's ire. Pokémon aside, I got the feeling that Warren's jeans and leather jacket hid an impressively toned figure. Add onto that the fact that he carried himself with absolute confidence and was hired as some sort of private security, I wouldn't be surprised if he could even lay Owen on his ass in a fight.

I was mad, but not so much that I couldn't see reason and know that throwing a punch would be colossally stupid. As much as I'd have loved to wipe the smirk off his face, it was a certainty that trying to do so would only end in further embarrassment and possible injury.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath to calm myself, then exhaled a shaky and defeated breath. "Why are you still here? I'm safe. I don't want you here, and I don't need your help anymore, so just go."

"You do, and the fact that you don't realize that is kind of sad. I was able to confirm your mind wasn't tampered with by the Rockets, which I was going to ask for permission to do until you so graciously let us in by the way. That's one potential headache averted, but it's painfully obvious that you have a nasty case of telepathic trauma. It's a fairly common consequence the first time someone experiences a mental assault, but it is especially troublesome for you given your starter. Now, are you going to keep whining, or can we be productive before you meet up with your buddy for lunch?"

"Productive?" I asked cautiously, genuinely confused.

He sighed. "I don't like kids or this damn humidity, so I'd honestly rather not be here. But unfortunately, I'm the kind of guy who doesn't half-ass things. Somebody instructed me to make sure you make it through this thing in one piece, and it's obvious you need some rehabilitation. If you want to keep bellyaching, I'll leave you to your moping and report that you were too stubborn to accept help. Or, you can realize that it's better for both of us if you quit yapping and let me do my job. Which is it going to be?"

I really didn't like Warren. I was still mad at him for what he had done to me, and I especially didn't like his attitude or tough guy act.

But as much as I hated to admit it, he was trustworthy and had helped me a lot. I hadn't even thought of my mind possibly being altered and felt immense relief at him confirming that it was untainted, but I was also becoming increasingly convinced that he was right – I definitely at least had a sensitivity to psychics I hadn't before. I wasn't fully convinced that it would apply to Apollo as he seemed to imply, but then again he had evolved and would probably feel a lot different in my mind than I would remember. The last thing I wanted was to have a negative reaction when I finally reunited with him, and Apollo aside it was hard to dispute I didn't have an issue after what even I had to acknowledge was an overreaction to Warren's psychic brushing my mind.

And so, I reluctantly agreed and found myself once again on the receiving end of Warren offering his help. Though I knew I would leave extremely annoyed just as I did every time I encountered the man, I also had no doubt that if anybody was capable of helping me, it would be him.

As much as I wanted to act like I was fine and could handle things on my own, I'd learned from Miss Augustine that I needed to know when to accept help. It was sometimes easy to forget lessons learned in the heat of the moment, but I was trying my best to learn and grow in this new chapter of my life. Just like the revelations I'd had during my talk with Trapinch, I wasn't intent on repeating this one if I could help it.

I'd once heard a saying that went something like 'the road to self-discovery is long and bumpy'. I was finding that to be true, and as annoying and painful as it was likely to be, I was willing to go along with whatever Warren had planned if there was a chance it would ensure my reunion with Apollo went off without a hitch.

A/N: Good guy Warren, who would have thought? Just kidding, he's a total ass, but I love his character all the same. Unfortunately, some formatting might be missing since FFN is still busted, but are we really surprised at this point?

Shoutout to The Muffin Rat King for beta-reading this chapter.

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