The following day, the air in the hospital room felt lighter. The myriad of tubes that had once tethered Bryan to life were gone, leaving only an IV drip in his arm and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. He rested against the inclined bed, his complexion still pale but better than it had been. Sabrina sat at his side, her worry-laden gaze fixed on him as the doctor entered the room.
"Good afternoon," the doctor greeted, flipping through the clipboard in his hands. "You're looking better today, Bryan."
Bryan managed a weak smile, his voice still raspy. "Feel... better too."
The doctor nodded, stepping closer to the bed. "We've been monitoring your recovery closely. The gunshot wound caused your left lung to collapse, and we had to intervene quickly to save your life. Thankfully, the paramedics and our medical team worked fast. Our Chansey unit assisted in resuscitation and stabilization on-site before you were brought here."
Bryan's lips twitched slightly, a mix of gratitude and faint amusement. "Chansey… miracle worker," he murmured.
The doctor chuckled softly before returning to the matter at hand. "You've been through a lot, but you're on the mend. Full recovery will take about six to eight weeks, provided you avoid any strenuous activity that could stress your lungs—no running, no heavy lifting, and no battles. We'll keep you here for a few more days of observation, but you should be discharged soon with strict instructions for rest and recovery."
Sabrina, who had been listening intently, gave a slight nod, her expression serious. "Thank you, doctor."
The doctor smiled politely before glancing at Sabrina then back Bryan. "You're lucky to have someone like her by your side. Rest up, and don't push yourself too hard." With that, he left the room, leaving the two alone.
Sabrina adjusted her seat closer to the bed, her fingers grazing the blanket covering Bryan's legs. Without a word, she leaned forward, resting her head gently on his blanketed leg. The tension in her shoulders eased slightly as she exhaled, her gaze softening.
Bryan blinked at her, "What… what are you doing?"
She looked up at him with a small, almost wistful smile. "Just… sitting here. With you." Her smile faltered slightly, and her voice grew quieter. "I almost lost you, you know."
Bryan's eyes softened as he shook his head slowly. "But you didn't. I'm still here."
Her fingers clenched lightly against the blanket as she looked away. "I wasn't ready to lose you. Not after…" Her voice wavered before she steadied herself. "Not after everything. I can't imagine what I'd do if—"
"You didn't," he interjected gently. His hand shifted, weakly resting atop hers. "I'm okay."
Sabrina closed her eyes briefly, letting his words sink in. After a moment, Bryan sighed and tilted his head slightly to meet her gaze. "I don't remember much. Just… running up the stairs in that warehouse. I was after the submarine, trying to stop them from getting away." His brows furrowed faintly. "And then… pain. On my chest."
Her heart ached at his words, and she lifted her head, her expression filled with guilt. "I'm sorry, Bryan. I wasn't able to protect you. We weren't able to catch Team Galactic." Her voice broke slightly, but she continued. "They got away, and you almost…" She trailed off, her hands trembling slightly.
The silence in the room stretched between them, taut and full of unsaid things. Sabrina sat at Bryan's side, watching the subtle rise and fall of his chest, feeling the weight of their shared history in the air. The pain of their near-loss still lingered in her heart, and though he was awake now, still fragile and recovering, part of her remained caught in that moment.
Bryan's voice broke the silence, faint but steady. "The Pokémon in the Master Balls?" he asked, his voice still weak from the remnants of the battle he had fought, his mind catching up to the recent events. Sabrina's eyes flickered toward him, her hand hovering near his, the familiar warmth of his presence a steady comfort amidst the chaos of everything that had just happened.
"We saved them," she murmured quietly, her voice low. It was the truth, but even saying it aloud didn't erase the bitter taste of failure she couldn't shake. "They just got away with the cylinders, the explosives... everything they needed to build the Galactic bomb, and whatever they were planning with those."
The weight of those words hung in the air, and Sabrina could feel the guilt pressing down on her chest. Her eyes averted from Bryan's, a flicker of sadness crossing her features. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to rehash the disaster, the moments where they had failed to stop them. It had been a blow to her—both personally and professionally. And yet, she wasn't about to argue with Bryan. Not now. Not after everything.
But he wasn't letting it go, and his probing gaze made her pause, unable to keep hiding behind her wall. She exhaled deeply, not wanting to relive the failure but feeling the weight of his quiet insistence. "I… I don't want to talk about it," she said, almost to herself. "But you're right to ask." She allowed herself a moment of vulnerability, her voice faltering just slightly. "We didn't stop them. We failed to stop them from getting everything they needed. I... couldn't do more."
Bryan's expression softened at her words, a glimmer of understanding behind his tired eyes. He wasn't pushing her, not like he had before. Instead, he simply listened, aware of the pain she carried. Sabrina didn't want to relive the night, but it was impossible to ignore the ache in her chest, the one that came from feeling like she had let everyone down.
She took a steadying breath, gathering herself. Then, a soft voice broke the quiet, barely a whisper but carrying more than words could say.
"Bryan, I'm sorry."
The words caught her throat, thick with emotion. She could feel her heart stutter, the admission sitting heavy on her tongue. Bryan turned toward her, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern, the softness in his eyes urging her to continue.
"Sorry for what?" he asked, his voice gentle.
Sabrina hesitated. The apology wasn't just about the raid or the failure. It was something deeper. Something that had been gnawing at her for days now. She took a deep breath and let the words spill out before she could stop them.
"Sorry for the night before the raid," she said, her eyes dropping to the floor. "I know you didn't mean it. When you said I was this paranoid psychic girl. You didn't mean it." Her voice cracked on the last word, and she had to fight the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes.
Bryan's gaze softened, his hand reaching for hers, his touch light but grounding. "You don't need to apologize for that. I was frustrated, Sabrina. I didn't mean it, not really."
But Sabrina's heart didn't settle with his words alone. It was the weight of everything, everything they had been through—everything she had said and hadn't said—that lingered. She continued, her voice barely above a whisper, but her sincerity unwavering.
"I'm sorry for being angry at you," she continued, her throat tight. "For pushing you away when you tried to reach out. I should've talked to you, but I didn't. I was so scared… I thought... if I let you in, if I let myself care too much, something worse would happen." She paused, feeling a pang in her chest at the rawness of it. "I didn't want to lose you, Bryan."
Her voice faltered, and her chest tightened with the depth of the truth in her words. "And I would have gone insane if I had lost you. The last thing we would've truly talked about was that night. All that anger… and I couldn't take that. I couldn't bear it."
"Don't cry, Sabrina," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You'll always be my smart, witty, and lovely, but paranoid psychic girl." His thumb traced the outline of her cheek, a smile tugging faintly at the corner of his lips. "I've loved you since I was six, you know that?"
Sabrina let out a shaky laugh, the weight of his words settling her heart. He wasn't angry. He wasn't holding onto anything. He understood. He had always understood. And in that moment, it was as if the last of her fears melted away. The guilt, the anger, the hurt—it all faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of his presence and the steady bond between them.
Sabrina's thoughts drifted, pulled back to the place where it had all felt so real. The oak tree. The memory of their time there, the warmth of their friendship and the silent understanding they had shared, before everything had crumbled. The last time she had truly felt at peace, before her premonition had shattered that sense of calm. She could still feel the rush of fear when she had seen it—the vision of Bryan's lifeless body, his eyes dull and empty, just like the countless times in her nightmares. "It all happened," she began. "Everything that I saw... everything I feared. I couldn't stop it... I couldn't stop any of it."
Her chest tightened as she closed her eyes, her mind replaying every moment, from the moment she had first sensed something was wrong to the haunting image of him lying there, cold. "Everything went true..." She exhaled shakily. "Down to the last second. Everything..."
Bryan's voice cut through her thoughts, quiet but steady, his words carrying the weight of his presence. "Not everything," he said softly. "You didn't lose me."
Sabrina blinked, surprised at how those words pierced through the fog of dread that had clouded her mind.
The memory of his lifeless eyes still haunted her, but now it wasn't as sharp. It wasn't as painful. Because, in front of her now, there was Bryan—alive, his eyes full of life, just as they had been before. That was enough to wash away the worst of the pain.
She smiled, the weight in her chest lifting just a little. "Yeah... my powers didn't predict you living, Bryan," she said quietly, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she leaned into the warmth of his touch. "But I'm glad I was wrong."
Bryan smiled back, his thumb brushing her hand in a slow, reassuring gesture. Sabrina closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to soak in the comfort of it all. They were here. They had made it. No premonition, no future could change that.
Bryan looked around the room as if something clicked in his mind. His gaze softened as he caught sight of the Poké Balls on the bed next to him. "Our Pokémon?" he asked, his voice still rough but grounded, the curiosity unmistakable in his tone.
Sabrina reached over, retrieving the two Poké Balls that Bryan had brought with him—Metagross and Gardevoir. She set them carefully on the bed beside him. "Here," she said softly. "They're here."
Bryan's face lit up at the sight, his expression softening with pride. "Proud of our partners," he murmured, his gaze flickering back to Sabrina with a hint of admiration in his eyes. "We couldn't have saved them without them."
Sabrina could only smile, her heart swelling with a mixture of warmth and gratitude. Their Pokémon had been through so much with them, standing side by side in every battle, supporting them through every challenge. They were more than just allies; they were family.
Sabrina's fingers brushed against the four Poké Balls at her belt as she spoke again, her voice laced with affection. "They're here too. We couldn't have done any of this without them. I'm just... so grateful."
Bryan's smile grew, the humor lightening his face as he looked over at her. "I guess we really couldn't have saved the day without them, huh?"
Sabrina chuckled softly, the sound filled with affection. "Not a chance," she said, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. "They're nothing without us, though."
Bryan raised an eyebrow in playful challenge, but it didn't last long before he let out a small laugh, the sound genuine. "True," he said with a nod. "Couldn't have made it through without them. We all did it together."
Sabrina's smile lingered, the words from earlier ringing in her ears. We all did it together. There was something about that thought that felt right.
Bryan's gaze drifted toward the window, a wistful gleam in his eyes. "The oak tree is waiting, you know?" His voice, though weak, carried the gentle warmth she had always known.
Sabrina's heart fluttered at his words. The oak tree. How many times had she dreamt of it since they were kids? How many times had she feared she would never hear him speak those words again?
"We promised," Bryan continued, a slight hitch in his breath, "that once everything was over… the first thing we'd do was go there." The faintest smile tugged at his lips, one she recognized—the kind of smile that hinted at shared secrets and distant memories.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "We did promise," she murmured, her fingers brushing lightly over his hand. A flash of the raid flooded her mind: the look in his eyes as he struggled to form a final word, the horrific stillness that followed. The oak tree... he had whispered back then, and she had thought it would be his last.
But here he was, alive, breathing, the glimmer in his eyes radiant with life. The memory of his cold, glassy stare wasn't quite so painful now. Not when the same eyes looked on her with warmth.
She sat there, letting her relief settle over her like a comforting blanket. All her fears, her guilt, her anger—they no longer weighed so heavily. Because in this moment, his words reminded her of what they still had: a future. One that led them right back to that tree, to the promise they'd made as children.
Sabrina's lips curved into a soft, hopeful smile. "Then we'll go," she whispered, squeezing his hand gently. "Just as soon as we can."
Three days later...
The doctor, ever cautious, stood by with a chart in hand, making sure both of them understood what lay ahead.
"You'll need to take it easy," the doctor said, addressing Bryan in a steady, matter-of-fact tone. "Your lung is healing well, but avoid strenuous activity. If you do engage in Pokémon battles, make sure you're not overexerting yourself. If anything feels off, you stop—immediately. Understood?"
Bryan nodded. The bruises on his chest no longer looked so dark, but the faint ache was a reminder of what had happened. "Got it, Doc," he replied, voice still laced with a hint of raspy fatigue.
The doctor shifted his attention to Sabrina. "It was nice meeting you, Sabrina. You've been quite the presence here, though I sincerely hope neither of you ever have to step through these hospital doors again." A small smile tugged at his lips, reflecting the relief of seeing Bryan on the mend.
Sabrina matched that smile with one of her own, subdued but genuine. "Thank you for taking care of him," she said softly. "I… We appreciate everything."
The doctor nodded, smiling at them before tilting his glasses allowing them to have space.
A short while later, they found themselves outside the hospital, the sun warm on their faces. It was strange how the mundane act of walking away from the entrance felt monumental. Bryan drew in a slow, careful breath, nodding to reassure Sabrina that he was fine. She hovered protectively at his side, half expecting him to wobble or show signs of pain, but he seemed steady.
They headed toward a familiar path, one they'd traveled countless times before. The world felt lighter under their feet, each step carrying them further from the sterile hallways and constant beeping of monitors. They didn't speak for a moment, as if even the gentle noise of the city around them was too much to break the calm.
Eventually, Sabrina let out a quiet chuckle. "It's good to be back out here," she murmured. "I swear, another day in that hospital and I'd lose my mind. It felt so… suffocating."
Bryan, who had been focused on the gentle rhythm of his own breathing, gave a faint grin. "I'm just glad I'm not six feet under," he teased, though there was honesty beneath the humor. "They kept telling me to rest, but every second in that bed felt like forever."
The tension of the past few weeks drifted away, a gentle wave of relief washing over them. Sabrina moved closer, sliding her arm through his and resting her hand against the crook of his elbow. Her touch was soft, tentative at first. She wanted to make sure she wasn't hurting him, but he seemed to welcome the closeness.
His hand covered hers, that small gesture of reassurance sending a rush of warmth through her. For a moment, they simply walked in step with each other, letting the breeze carry off any remnants of fear or regret. They didn't need grand gestures or words—it was enough to be there, side by side.
Sabrina glanced at him, noticing the slight strain on his face whenever he took a deeper breath. Yet the determination in his eyes remained the same. She smiled, a quiet, content sort of smile. "Hand in hand," she murmured.
Bryan nodded, returning that small, shared smile. "It's all I want right now."
They continued along the path, and for the first time in what felt like forever, their world seemed to settle into a gentle, hopeful rhythm.
Sabrina and Bryan made their way into the bustling park, a gentle breeze carrying the sound of laughter and conversation across the freshly cut grass. Their footsteps slowed as they neared a playground where children ran about with unbridled energy, chasing each other in circles or showing off their Pokémon in friendly bouts. It was a scene of simple joy—something both Sabrina and Bryan had been missing for too long. The hospital's stark corridors and the weight of recent events still lingered in their minds, but here, amid the carefree shouts of kids, things felt a little lighter.
As they strolled closer, a group of children spotted them. One by one, they broke away from their play, their eyes lighting up with recognition. Sabrina could see the excitement dancing on their faces. She'd been a familiar presence in the park, often accompanied by her Alakazam, or sometimes Mr. Mime, who entertained these kids with playful illusions. Bryan had also become a constant, even if most of the children only knew him simply as "Mr."
"Sabrina! Mr!" a boy called out, his voice ringing across the field. He darted toward them, followed by his friends. "We haven't seen you for a week! Where were you?"
Sabrina mustered a gentle smile, trying not to dwell on the harrowing hospital stay that had consumed the past days. "We've been… busy," she offered, keeping her tone airy and free of worry. She didn't want to burden them with the grim reality of the raid or the image of Bryan nearly dying. They deserved their simple happiness, and she was determined not to disrupt it.
A gaggle of children now surrounded them, eyes sparkling with curiosity and delight. Some clutched plush toys of various Pokémon, while others held tiny notebooks scrawled with pictures and mock trainer badges. A girl in a bright yellow dress piped up, "We missed your Alakazam! He does the coolest moves! And Mr's Metagross—so strong! Where are they?"
Sabrina's smile turned fond at the memory of her psychic companion, whose stoic nature belied a deep loyalty. She remembered how Alakazam had once helped demonstrate a perfectly timed Teleport, much to the children's awe. "They're around," she assured. "Resting, actually. They've been working pretty hard, so I'm letting them take it easy for a while."
"Aw," one of the kids groaned, though they grinned soon after. "But next time, can you show us more psychic moves?"
Sabrina nodded, quietly relieved that the conversation stayed light. She glanced at Bryan, noticing his affectionate gaze lingering on the children—children who had no idea how close he had come to never returning to this park. He caught her looking and gave a small nod, gratitude shining in his eyes.
Suddenly, the crowd parted to reveal Kaila, her Abra dozing comfortably in her arms. The little Psychic-type had a perpetually sleepy expression, but its ears perked up faintly when Kaila came to a halt in front of them. Kaila's cheeks were flushed with excitement. "Sabrina! Mr! I was hoping you'd show up! We haven't seen you at all this week and last week, and I wanted to tell you—Abra can almost Teleport me across the park now!"
Bryan's breath caught at the sight of his sister—though she knew him only as "Mr," a friendly presence in the park. He couldn't exactly drop the truth of their familial bond, not without risking complications he wasn't ready to face. He managed a small smile. "That's great, Kaila. You must be practicing a lot."
Kaila bobbed her head enthusiastically. "Yes! Mom says as long as I stay where she can see me, I can keep trying. But one day, I'll be able to do it all over the city, right, Sabrina?"
Sabrina hid a knowing smile. "With enough training and guidance, sure." She patted Abra's head lightly. "But remember: safety first, okay?"
Abra blinked drowsily, a faint purple glow flickering around it before fading again. Kaila beamed, proud of her Pokémon's mini performance, even if it did little more than shimmer in place. "I hope we can all play together soon. You and Mr come play, right, Sabrina?"
Sabrina's throat tightened for a moment, touched by the earnestness in Kaila's voice. She caught Bryan's eye. He looked… nostalgic, perhaps even a bit wistful, as though reminded of days long past with his own family—days stolen by Team Rocket chaos, Team Galactic threats, and his lengthy hospital confinement. But he quickly found composure, nodding at Kaila.
"Yeah, we'd like that," Bryan said gently, carefully maintaining his friendly guise.
Kaila grinned, hugging Abra closer. "Then see you soon!" she chirped, bouncing back into the throng of kids.
Sabrina watched her depart, her heart warmed by Kaila's enthusiasm. She felt Bryan gently press against her arm, a subtle request to move on. They slipped away from the excited children with quiet goodbyes and a promise to return, soon fading from the playground's noise to a quieter path leading into the forest.
As they meandered into the greenery, the chatter of the park transformed into the soft hush of rustling leaves. Sunlight streamed in slanted patterns through the canopy overhead, illuminating the beaten path that felt so familiar beneath their feet. Here, catterpies inched along the branches, while beedrills buzzed in distant clusters, and occasional rattatas scurried across the undergrowth, peeking out with curious eyes. Butterfrees fluttered overhead, their wings catching dappled sunlight.
Sabrina drew in a deep breath, relief settling into her bones. She twined her arm with Bryan's, the contact both supportive and comforting. He exhaled slowly, as though he, too, found solace in the forest's quiet hum.
"This is better," Sabrina mused, her voice low. The city's chaos—and the hospital's oppressive hush—felt worlds away, replaced by the forest's gentle pulse.
Bryan nodded, his hand sliding to entwine with hers. "Let's keep walking," he murmured. "We've been away too long."
Together, they followed the winding path deeper into the forest. The presence of wild Pokémon—friendly, skittish, or simply curious—reminded them that life went on, even when theirs had been suspended in fear and uncertainty from the recent events. Now, with each step, they reclaimed a little more of that life, moving forward side by side, heading toward whatever came next. And for the moment, that was all they for a couple of seconds
The old oak tree rose up before them, a silent sentinel of childhood memories. Its massive trunk looked the same as ever, bark rough and gnarled, branches twisting overhead in a familiar canopy. At the base of the trunk, where the roots snaked across the soil, two old butterfly nets rested, worn by time and the elements. Even from a distance, Sabrina could see the faint carving etched into the bark: her name and Bryan's, surrounded by a roughly drawn heart.
They both stopped in unspoken reverence, letting the forest's hush envelop them. A light breeze rustled the leaves, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and wildflowers. For a long moment, neither spoke. Sabrina's heart felt oddly tight in her chest, overwhelmed by the swirl of emotions—nostalgia, relief, a hint of lingering sorrow. Yet more than anything, she felt the warmth of hope that had been rekindled in these last days.
Bryan exhaled softly, as though he, too, felt the significance of returning here after everything they'd been through. He tightened his grip on Sabrina's hand, offering a small smile. "We finally made it," he said, the faint trace of awe in his voice unmistakable.
She nodded, feeling the tension melt from her shoulders. It had been so long since they'd last stood here together, free from crisis, free from the threat of losing each other. "Yeah," she murmured. "We did."
They approached the tree, steps slowing as though drawn in by the memories etched into its bark. A gentle sigh escaped both of them. Together, they sat at the base of the oak, shoulder to shoulder, close enough that Sabrina could lean her head against Bryan's arm. The bark pressed into their backs, but neither complained. The discomfort was part of the charm—part of their history.
Sabrina closed her eyes for a second. "I feel like I'm six years old again," she admitted, a quiet laugh coloring her words. "Like... nothing's changed, even though everything has."
Bryan shifted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You're not the only one." His tone was light but laced with emotion. He glanced around at the forest—the play of shadows and the occasional dart of a Rattata in the distance. "Hard to believe we're finally relaxing with no Team Rocket breathing down our necks, no Team Galactic waiting around the corner."
Sabrina lifted her gaze to the branches overhead, then smiled gently, her fingers warming with a familiar psychic glow. A fallen leaf near her foot shimmered, then rose into the air, drifting lazily between them as though caught on a gentle wind. She watched it float, her powers guiding it in a slow, playful dance. "No more raids," she said, voice tinged with relief. "...missions. Just... this."
Bryan watched the leaf bob in the air, a soft grin tugging at his lips. He let out a small chuckle. "I'm hoping Cynthia and whoever else is out there will clean up what we didn't manage to finish in that raid. I think we've earned a break."
Sabrina nodded, still absentmindedly maneuvering the leaf with subtle flicks of her psychic energy. "I trust her. If anyone can get it done, it's Cynthia." Her laughter was light, carrying a hint of fondness for the Sinnoh Champion. "Let her handle all that for once. We've spent too long dealing with these syndicates ourselves."
The leaf wavered, then drifted down to rest gently on Sabrina's knee, her powers releasing it. She looked at Bryan, the weight of gratitude and affection in her eyes. "We're still standing," she whispered. "I... I never want to forget how close we came to losing each other."
He pressed his forehead lightly against hers, the closeness bringing a sense of security and warmth. "We won't forget," he said. "But maybe we can leave it behind us, at least for a bit. We deserve that."
They sat in silence for a while, the oak's vast branches swaying overhead, as if blessing them with its quiet, enduring presence. Sabrina let her head tilt back onto his shoulder, letting the forest's soft rhythms soothe her. Days of worry and fear unraveling at last, in the place where it had all begun for them—under this old oak, with their names carved into its bark like a promise that no matter how much time passed, some things remained constant.
"We're here," she said softly, more to herself than to him. And for now, that was all that mattered.
Sabrina shifted slightly, making room for Bryan to settle against the rough bark of the old oak. The two of them sat close enough that she could feel the quiet rhythm of his breathing, a small reassurance after the chaos of the past weeks. His shirt lay loosely over the bandages at his side, evidence of the bullet wound that had nearly taken him from her.
Her fingers, cool and careful, trailed to that spot, just over the healing injury. She felt him tense for a moment, then relax. "Does it hurt?" she asked.
He winced in a playful sort of way. "A little," he admitted, his voice rasping with the memory of pain. But a faint grin tugged at his lips. "A good kind of hurt, if that even makes sense."
A breath of relief escaped her. At least it wasn't real agony anymore. She leaned in, pressing her forehead briefly against his shoulder. "And no problem breathing?"
Bryan shook his head, meeting her concerned gaze. "Nope. I'm fine," he said, still sounding a bit amused by her cautious fussing. "Don't worry."
Satisfied for the moment, Sabrina let her head rest on his chest. The forest around them thrummed with distant life—small Pokémon skittered through the undergrowth, and the occasional flash of color gave away a passing Butterfree or Venomoth. She shut her eyes for a second, appreciating the warmth of his side, the sense of safety in their simple closeness.
A subtle flapping drew her attention. Lifting her head, she spotted a Butterfree hovering just overhead, its wings catching the sunlight in a soft glow. Acting on instinct, she extended her hand, palm up, in a gentle invitation. To her surprise, the Butterfree glided down, its delicate legs touching her fingertips. For a heartbeat or two, it stayed there, wings quivering as though in some mutual acknowledgment, a silent greeting between human and Pokémon.
Bryan watched from his spot at her side, a quiet smile on his face. In the dappled forest light, the scene felt almost timeless, a reminder of afternoons spent under this very oak, exploring with the same childish wonder.
Without warning, the Butterfree took flight, spiraling up in a swirl of color before disappearing into the canopy. Sabrina chuckled, lowering her hand. "Think that counts as a catch?" she teased, the competitive edge in her grin hinting at old memories of them racing each other with makeshift nets.
Bryan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Come on, you know the rule," he reminded her. "Has to be with a butterfly net to be official."
She followed his gaze to the pair of worn butterfly nets propped against the tree trunk beside them, their handles scuffed from years of use. She had left them behind...as her remembrance for Bryan when he disappeared on her for so many years. It still hurt, but it had lessened.
Sabrina's grin widened. "Seems a bit unfair, though," she countered lightly, brushing an errant leaf from his shoulder. "I think we'd need bigger nets these days."
Bryan shot her a fond glance. "We could always try," he suggested, his voice carrying a playful note. "But I'm guessing we might need a little more lung power for chasing Butterfree, so maybe give me another month or so."
She rolled her eyes affectionately, placing a hand on his chest again, over the bandage. The faint rise and fall of his breathing felt so precious now, a victory over what might have been. "I'm not going anywhere," she murmured, resting her head against him again.
Around them, the forest remained vibrant, the hush interrupted by occasional rustles of nearby Pokémon. Sunlight filtered through the leaves in golden patches, illuminating them just enough to highlight the etched carvings on the oak's trunk. Their names, side by side, plus a heart scrawled around them—a relic of simpler times.
Bryan's thoughts wandered, sifting through the tangled threads of past choices and lingering regret. A gentle breeze ruffled the canopy overhead, but the stillness around them made his heart pound. He watched Sabrina's face, how peace settled in her eyes now that the world had slowed. She felt like home in a way he couldn't quite articulate—a place he'd run from, yet always longed to return to.
In that moment, his mind shifted to the people he'd left behind. His mother, whose worried eyes he still remembered from thirteen years ago, who blamed herself for everything...for him to slip away in the night to leave it all behind. Kaila—his sister who'd never really known him, who called him "Mr." at the park and showed off her Abra with bright-eyed pride. And his father. The very reason he had bolted in the night, carrying only the weight of anger and heartbreak to leave it all behind for a new life. Bryan still wasn't sure how to face that ghost, how to mend a wound so deeply rooted it had haunted him more than Team Rocket or Team Galactic ever had.
He squeezed Sabrina's hand in his, grounding himself in the present. The warmth of her skin radiated reassurance, but doubt still gnawed at him. Could he bridge the years of silence? Could he reinsert himself into the life he'd abandoned?
As he glanced at Sabrina, a calm determination grew inside him. She was strong enough to stand by him if he asked, strong enough to anchor him when confronting the past felt too heavy. He wondered if he could do it—if they could do it together—finding a path to forgiveness and healing he had denied himself.
Turning to her, he exhaled slowly, meeting her eyes, feeling an unspoken question press at the back of his throat. Finally, he leaned closer, voice soft yet firm with need. "Sabrina," he whispered, "can you do this for me?"
Hi everyone. It's been awhile, been busy actually. So if you noticed the chapters are all wrapping up. I'll just announce that the next chapter would be the last. I made this fanfic since February of last year and didn't publish it until November. I made sure that I would write all the chapters first ensuring that they will see to the end. And I'm glad that it will in a couple of weeks. It had been fun guys, thank you for the kind words. And I hope that you are doing well, and I hoped that you enjoyed the story between Bryan and Sabrina.
And Lastly, Happy New Year :)
- HammerTide