"Grimsley… are you sure about this?"
The Dark Master smirked and shouldered his bag. The two were in the Pokémon Center the day after Ash's meeting with the psychologist. The trainer had assumed that one session would be it. Yet here Grimsley was, waiting for him in the lobby and ready to travel.
"Why?"
The Elite shrugged. "I'm invested in helping a fellow Dark trainer." Ash raised an eyebrow. "...and I'm bored." Huffing, Ash felt a smile pull at his lips until the throbbing in his arms ripped it away.
He's only had the scars for a week and a half, yet for his mind it was a constant tug of war. Simultaneously, it felt as though he's lived with them for a lifetime, but also as if he were still trapped in the flames.
It was overwhelming and exhausting, and it was only his sheer stubbornness that kept Ash afloat.
Grimsley had… not necessarily helped, but put things in perspective. What happened to Ash wasn't his fault, and he couldn't control the past. But he could control where he went from here. Ash had to decide how he would handle his fear, his pain, and the realization that he could now understand in a way he couldn't before.
Understand the fear people felt during the Rocket Wars.
Understand suspicion and caution and rejection of something just because it had the potential to hurt.
Understand the automatic recoil from something seemingly benign, knowing safety was better than just the possibility of pain.
His dream of changing the world's perception of Chaos types had become more.
Ash just… he got it, now.
"I'm heading to Undella Town to check out Abyssal Ruins, then Opelucid and Vertress City. I mean… I guess stick around for however long?" Grimsley just looked entertained by his awkwardness.
"Well then, let's go."
Ash was happy to note their silence wasn't uncomfortable as they walked. The entrance to Route 14 was an easy fading from asphalt to dirt. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Ash released everyone except for his Dragons. They'd have to hunt soon, but that would have to wait until later.
He ignored Grimsley's quiet appraisal of his team. "Guys, this is Grimsley, an Elite Four member. He's going to be traveling with us for a little while." Nettle immediately flew over and greeted him with a smile and wave. The Dark Master allowed Nettle to shake his hand before the beast flew back over to Ash.
Sagitta completely ignored him, instead flying down to engage Mirae in a game of tag. Bane took a position next to Ash in his Leavanny illusion. Hemlock kept glancing at their new tag-along with a wicked look in his eye.
"Hoping for an Umbreon or Sylveon?"
Ash kept his expression blank and kept staring ahead. "Neither." He could tell Grimsley's curiosity was killing him, but pride won out and the man held his tongue.
"Anyway… here's what the next week is going to look like. We're primarily going to go with exposure therapy. The most important aspect is your feeling of safety, so one or more of your Pokémon will be close by at all times. We're going to start simple, just with pictures, then videos, then I have a few Pokémon on hand after that."
Gulping, Ash kept his attention forward even as his heart pounded in his ears. The throbbing in his arms felt like volcanic sludge moving like molasses under his skin. He took a deep breath, trying to rationalize in his head. Just a picture. He can handle that.
"Good, you already have the first lesson down. Just now when you felt anxiety or panic start to set in, you acknowledged the reaction and took steps to work through it. I'll teach you more techniques as we walk so you can practice. Then you'll practice them along with the exposure therapy."
Well, he told himself he'd do what it took to move past this, so he'd try. So for the next few hours, Ash learned specific breathing techniques, muscle relaxation, and grounding exercises. He decided to use his necklace as a grounding item, the gold beryl having both a distinct texture and a sentimental association.
Over the course of their travelling, Ash got a few battles, which was a nice distraction from everything. There was, however, a tedious consequence.
"You could have finished that battle so much faster had you utilized your Zoroark's stealth more. You have a pure Dark type, act like it."
'This is helpful, this is helpful, don't punch him.'
Ash quickly learned that Grimsley had advice. A lot of it. Especially when it came to his Darks. Hemlock should have done this, Bane should have done that. You should have them work on such and such. Yes, he was mentally storing it all away, but it was getting on his nerves.
He knew he wasn't a perfect trainer. He knew he still had a lot to learn. But he thought he'd been doing well for himself.
Grimsley tore down that sense of confidence.
Dark trainers always had a certain… prickly nature to them. Nether, Ash had observed it in himself first hand, but, man, did Grimsley embody it to the extreme.
Between Ash, Nanu, and Grimsley, he couldn't help but think there was a level of premeditated defensiveness there.
Ash thanked Mew when Grimsley's latest monologue was interrupted by the now familiar rumbling ground. Hemlock was already prepared for his latest rematch (not that it could really be considered as much).
Krokorok burst from the ground and didn't hesitate before shooting off toward the Devious Pokémon. Hemlock yawned and stepped out of the way, the croc charging past and unable to turn quickly enough before a Drain Punch struck its back.
This was the same song and dance, and honestly, Ash was getting a bit bored from it. Krokorok had stubborn determination in spades, a rather Dragon-like quality, but it was so predictable. So when the Krokorok was almost down for the count and about to make its escape, Ash got Hemlock's attention.
"Keep it here."
Krokorok snarled when its Dig was halted by the hook of 'hair' that locked it to the ground. It started thrashing, trying to escape, its eyes bright with fury. Ash walked up to its face and crossed his arms, momentarily regretting the action but hiding his flinch and standing tall.
"You're never going to beat him." The answering roar merely made him raise an eyebrow. "Oh yeah, how do you expect to beat him if you don't get any stronger?" The next roar was only slightly more reserved. "Here's an idea. Let me catch you, and I'll make you strong enough to take on Hemlock. Or, you could just keep trying and failing without ever succeeding. Up to you."
Ash held the croc's eyes in an intense staredown for a few more seconds before gesturing for Hemlock to release it. Krokorok immediately got to its feet and lunged at Ash.
He expected it.
Biting back a cry of pain, his forearm came up to intercept the underside of the gaping maw and redirected the Pokémon's assault. Stabs of pain radiated along the scars, but Ash couldn't show weakness right now. So as much as he wanted to curl around his still-'healing' arm, he refrained. But he could feel his legs shaking.
Krokorok looked taken aback. It was somewhat funny how similar this was to when he met Styx. The croc even threw a mini tantrum before huffing and crossing its arms and glaring at the ground. Finally, it waved a clawed hand at Ash, like it was doing Ash a favor letting him catch it. He primed a standard Pokéball and tossed it at the pouting croc. The ball didn't hit dead center like it usually would have, Ash's muscular coordination having taken a major hit.
It fought for a few moments, probably just to prove a point, before the Pokéball clicked shut. Hemlock released an exaggerated long-suffering sigh as Ash walked over to pick up his newest teammate. He watched with regret as the ball shrunk and locked.
A new teammate.
Images of Houndour flashed in his mind, and guilt curled in his gut even as his fingers trembled. Exhaling harshly, Ash shook his head, ignoring it all once again.
He'd need to send someone to the Ranch. Give her some company. For now, he took out his Pokédex to scan his newest teammate.
Krokorok: The Desert Croc Pokémon. A Ground and Dark type. Krokorok prefer to live in the desert, usually in small groups. The black membrane surrounding its eyes protects them from sandstorms and acts as a thermal detector. This allows Krokorok to see the temperature of different objects, which also gives it exceptional night vision. This enables it to hunt in the dead of night without getting lost. However, it never moves much during the night. A group of Krokorok usually consists of a few individuals. The group is led by a female Krokorok while the males gather food. Krokorok dislikes feeling cold, so it burrows into the desert sand at night. It tends to bury its prey in the sand to preserve them in the event of an unsuccessful hunt.
This Krokorok is Male and has the ability Anger Point
Known Moves: Power Trip, Sand Attack, Hone Claws, Sand Tomb, Crunch, Foul Play, Earthquake, Dig, Sandstorm, Thrash
Egg Move(s): Counter
Overall not too bad, needs more long range and coverage techniques, but he could work with this. Females might be larger, but the males were slightly better at stealth. Krokorok would prove advantageous against Ghosts, being able to detect the cold spots given off by a majority. Anger Point would be useful but dangerous.
"Nice work." He almost startled when the Elite spoke up. Ash forgot he was there, to be truthful. "I have my Krookodile with me, I'd consider helping you out…" The smirk on his face spelled trouble.
"If…?"
"We do the first round of exposure therapy before dinner." Ash pursed his lips and squeezed his thumbs before nodding. Grimsley's smug look on his face couldn't hide his approval. "Now come here."
Ash frowned in confusion and held still for a moment, before approaching the Elite, who was digging around in his bag. "Give me your arm." Ash jerked back, but at a sharp look from Grimsley he held out his left forearm. With surprising gentleness, he pulled back the sleeve enough to bare the twisted scars.
Grimsley grabbed a small bottle from his bag and poured a weird oily substance on Ash's arm.
The topical whatever fought back the awful stabbing pain enough where it returned to its normal level of agony.
Ash's lip trembled.
"Pyre, my Houndoom, has given me a few small patches of scars over the years. I've found a mixture of rawst, pecha, and aloe vera extract helps the most." Grimsley released his arm and Ash was quick to distance himself.
Bane caught up to Ash, guiding him ahead with claws against his back.
Ash fought through whatever emotion was rattling his composure and looked down at the locked Pokéball. His mind locked onto the distraction. He needed to send someone to the ranch. Gazing around, he chewed his lip in thought. Both Nettle and Bane had already been to the Ranch, it wasn't fair to make them go again. Styx would never allow it, Sagitta wouldn't leave Mirae and he couldn't send the Eevee back. Krokorok would throw a hissy fit if Hemlock wasn't here so that left…
Plucking the Ultra Ball off his belt, he tossed it. He was too tired to even try to grin when he heard a loud curse and a thump from behind him when Libra appeared. The Totem rumbled in question, tilting her head. Ash stepped forward and was touched when the Scaly Pokémon lowered her head to bump into his hand.
"Hey girl, I need a favor. Is it okay if I send you to the Ranch for a little? I just caught that annoying Krokorok-" Libra snorted. "-and I can only have a certain number of Pokémon with me. Hound-d-dour is there, and I want you to mentor her." Libra paused for a moment before puffing out her chest in pride. Ash prevented himself from releasing a sigh of relief (that would be showing too much uncertainty in front of a Dragon). "Thank you. I know she'll be a fighter in no time with you showing her the ropes."
There was a tough balance having multiple Dragons on a team. It was one of the many difficulties that came with specializing in Dragon types.
Dragons were more often than not solitary creatures, carving out territory for themselves where they were the dominant entity. When there were two or more on a team, naturally a hierarchy would develop and that could lead to behavioral issues for the ones not on top.
Giving Libra the opportunity to be the 'head honcho' would be good for her. Especially since she's never had the opportunity.
The Totem Kommo-o had obviously been the boss, parent or not.
Mirae and Nettle waved goodbye to the Alola native as Ash returned her. He fiddled with his Pokédex for a moment, never having used the transfer function. He figured it out after a minute or two. One of Oak's aides would be there to collect her.
After a second or two, the new Pokéball unlocked and returned to its original size.
"Zekrom, that is a large Hakamo-o." Ash mustered up an exhausted smile when he glanced at Grimsley. He released his newest teammate and watched as the reptile shook, unused to the sensation. The croc grumbled under his breath but didn't seem too irritated.
"So, welcome to the team. Each of my partners have a name that sets them apart from others of their species. Would you like a name?" Krokorok clashed his teeth together, eyes darting over to Hemlock. "His name is Hemlock." That statement was the final push, Krokorok growling in agreement, though there was something there that almost resembled tentativeness.
"Castor. It's deadly." It also played into astronomy, but Ash didn't think Krokorok would care about that. He also got the feeling that Castor didn't care too much about the meaning of things. Newly named Castor was happy enough with that description and shot a smug look towards Hemlock. Ash made a mental note not to tell him hemlock was also a deadly plant.
Ash clapped to get everyone's attention, though flinched at the resulting jerk of sharpness traveling up his arms. "Alright, new teammate. Everyone, this is Castor, make him feel welcome." His grin became a little sharper as he caught Castor's sudden wary expression. Sagitta looked downright delighted.
Later that night, after a particularly rambunctious prank war-slash-bloodbath between Sagitta, Bane, Hemlock, Mirae, and Castor, Ash had his team start their training. For warm up, he paired the Krokorok with Bane instead of Hemlock so he'd actually get something done.
Castor was an interesting case, having plenty of raw power but little finesse. The Krokorok wasted energy with every movement, going for big, bold displays of strength. He was impatient and stubborn and egoistic and Ash couldn't help but like him.
The same could not be said for Castor.
Krokorok looked down on Ash and he had an inkling as to why.
This was the first full training session Ash has put his team through since The Incident, and he was finding it all exhausting.
His desire to grow stronger and help his team hadn't waned, but the energy he could muster for it all was a fraction of what it had been before. The bags under his eyes were deep and the black around his eyes almost matched his newest capture. It was difficult to hold his shoulders back and his head high when all he wanted to do was slump forward.
But Ash made do, like he always had.
It didn't hurt having Styx as his enforcer.
The Hydreigon was currently curled around him, yet one secondary head kept slitted eyes on their newest teammate. The Krokorok had already tried attacking Ash once and the croc was still limping from Styx's wrath.
Grimsley sat across from the duo, eying the Dark and Dragon type with well-hidden awe. On the ground, the Elite didn't seem to care for the grass stains marring his dark suit or the new tear in his signature yellow scarf. Instead, he was leaning back against the legs of a towering Bisharp, the Unovan Dark type standing at attention and motionless as a statue.
Blackwell, Grimsley had called it.
"Okay, Red," The nickname appeared after Ash had tried to glare Grimsley into submission (shockingly it was useless) "here is how this is going to work. We're going to talk first, do some of our breathing techniques. You're going to keep one hand on Styx the entire time. I have a tablet here that has a collection of Pokémon pictures, some canine, some not. I'm going to monitor your reactions to each picture so we can create a hierarchy of response. Tell me if it gets to be too much, alright?"
"I'll tell you."
Grimsley nodded seriously before he started asking about Ash's training program. The two traded ideas and strategies for the next fifteen minutes until Ash was feeling a little less wound up.
Through this time, Grimsley swiped through Pokémon pictures; Watchog, Pidove, Trubbish, Galvantula, Pawniard, and on.
The psychologist met his eyes. "Ready? Alright, first one."
The first few pictures only elevated his heart rate a bit. There were bipedal canine Pokémon with some fox-like ones thrown in. Smeargle, Jolteon, Snubbull, Vulpix, Nickit, Riolu, and Lucario didn't feel dangerous to him. The first picture that set him truly on edge was a Manetric. Fire prickled down his arms, like thousands of tiny, white hot needles were targeting each nerve.
Styx rumbled lowly when she felt his fingers tighten in her feathers. Grimsley paused and held the picture. "Okay Red, remember what we practiced. Do eight repetitions… Very good. What can you tell me about Manectric?"
"Electric type, evolves from Electrike. Native to the Hoenn region. It collects electricity in its mane and then discharges it. Highly trained Manectric can create storm clouds in battle." Ash let logic and memory take over, his heart having slightly slowed and his muscles didn't feel as tense after the few tricks.
Grimsley lowered the tablet and shut it off. "Very well done. That's all we're doing for today. We don't want to wear you down too quickly. The mind works at its own pace." Ash could still hear his heartbeat in his ears, but he nodded in acceptance. 'There's no shame in this, there's no shame in this.'
He allowed himself a few minutes to watch his Pokémon train, which happened to be a fantastic distraction. Today was agility and plyometrics, and Castor was decidedly not having a great time. Croc species like Sandile had poor natural ability to change directions, somewhat like Rhyhorn. The Krokorok was bipedal, which means he wouldn't be as limited. It was somewhat obvious the croc had only evolved recently.
Thus, Bane was putting him through the paces. Hunter versus Hunter.
"I'll have Duvessa run him ragged tomorrow. Blackwell can work with your Morgrem and maybe Absinthe with Zoroark. Oh, Riktor would love to work with a Hydreigon." The Elite was mostly talking to himself at this point, but his grin was a bit manic and that definitely set Ash on edge.
Oh Mew, an Elite Four was going to train with him. He could guess what Pokémon Grimsley meant.
Ash would never admit it to the Elite, but he was Ash's inspiration as a Dark trainer. In battle, Grimsley was calm, vicious, and relentless. He was clever and understood his Pokémon on an instinctual level. The man had been part of the Unova Elite Four for almost a decade, having achieved his Mastery at 21 years old.
There was excitement flooding Ash's veins knowing he was learning from the man. It was almost an even tradeoff with being irrevocably damaged by a rabid Houndoom.
Despite his current inner turmoil, Ash was able to analyze his team's movements with a critical eye. Mirae was getting faster with his cutting and pivoting, but still needed some work since his hind knee would collapse inward when he turned. There seemed to be an imbalance in that hip.
Nettle was switching between levitating and ground-based agility. They had encountered a Stonejourner a few days ago that had the move Gravity that resulted in Nettle's loss. That had shown a major weakness. Finding the best biomechanical locomotion for the UB had been challenging, especially with how top-heavy it was. But a mixture of quadrupedal and bipedal movements proved most effective.
Ash was getting worried about Sagitta. She still had room for improvement, but he could tell her inability to evolve was weighing on her. Her wings weren't built for long-term battle and it showed. She had to hit hard and fast to end a battle. If it went on too long… He was hoping to start on Psychic or maybe Tailwind that could give her wings a break mid-battle.
Hemlock had enough attacks at the moment, and Ash watched carefully as his second Pokémon moved quickly around the clearing, utilizing crossover steps and charging up Shadow Claw on one hand and had a few arcs of electricity jumping around his other fist. Every four crossover steps, the Morgrem would strike his pitchfork-like hair into the ground and use it to swing his entire body around, improving his mobility and agility.
Bane was a blur, his speed one of his biggest strengths alongside his utter silence when he moved. One second the fox was moving full speed towards a tree and the next he was halfway across the field in the opposite direction. He was panting heavily, but pushed himself to go faster. Stamina was his achilles heel.
So when everyone was done and dinner had been eaten, Ash curled up in his sleeping bag surrounded by his family and felt optimism warm his chest.
That warmth froze and twisted in what should have been the refuge of his dreams.
Smoke
Fire
Fear
Pain
Pain
PAIN
He woke with a scream on his tongue and smoldering brimstone in his arms.
He couldn't breathe, his arms were on fire, he couldn't breathe WHY WERE HIS ARMS ON FIRE?
Something cut through the blaze of pain and panic and forcefully infused calm in his muscles. It felt like his back was buzzing.
Humming.
Thrum.
Ash's eyes flared open, arms prickling and chest stuttering. The first rays of Solgaleo were cresting over mountaintops, highlighting the thin mist inching across the grasses.
Comforting warmth and vibration seeped through his back. Turning his head, red eyes met fuschia. Styx lowered her massive head to wind it around his chest, humming throat pressed tightly against his rib cage. He flinched as he lifted his throbbing arms and wound them around her crest of feathers.
His mind slowly started to register the low voice to the right of him.
"It's October 5th, you're on Route 14. We're heading to Undella Town. You are safe, you are with your team. It's October 5th, you're on Route 14…" Ash's grip on Styx tightened for a moment, the aftershocks of adrenaline leaving his body prickling. He turned to see Grimsley crouched next to him a foot away.
The man was in black sweatpants and a long sleeve Black City Bisharps shirt, his hair mussed and fallen from its usual style.
Slowly, the reality of what just happened washed over him and his cheeks flushed forcefully. Grimsley narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together tightly. "None of that." His voice brooked no argument.
But Ash loved to argue.
"Why?" His throat felt raw and he felt a tap against his knee. Nettle floated at eye level and held out his water bottle. Ash managed a strained smile and downed a majority of the water. His team surrounded him with varying expressions, most looked concerned, Sagitta looked a bit bored, and Castor just had an uncomfortable sneer on his face.
Grimsley settled down beside him. "It's not uncommon for nightmares to strike us when we start to feel safe again. It's like the mind is finally allowed to process what happened. You've only had the scars for a short while, so sometimes the pain takes the mind by surprise. Unfortunately, logic and rationalization aren't always the default."
"How long?" The psychologist didn't need him to elaborate.
Grimsley shrugged. "Hard to say. It's different for everyone. We still don't understand the brain in its entirety. Also, with the exposure therapy bringing everything to the forefront, this was to be expected. I apologize for not preparing you better."
Releasing a shaky exhale, Ash waved the Elite's apology away. He had a feeling nothing could have prepared him. The remnants of his nightmare sent shockwaves of sensation down his forearms.
He wondered if he'd be fine.
Ash had always wanted change, but now he'd give almost anything for things to go back to the way they were.
His pessimistic thoughts were disrupted when Grimsely none-so-gently shoved his knee. "Come on, we're all awake so we might as well get breakfast going and an early start to the day. Duvessa and Castor are going to be getting well acquainted on the road."
The following smirk caused a rush of anticipation that burned away the remaining embarrassment.
Ash groaned alongside his Pokémon.
They were a few hours away from Undella Town and every muscle ached something fierce. Grimsley had decided that training Ash and his Pokémon would be a fantastic use of his time, and that it would put Ash's mind off his struggles.
But Grimsley's team was terrifying.
His Mandibuzz, Marrow, was a tank and was forcing Sagitta to either adapt or give up, and Sagitta never gave up. No half-bald bird would change that.
Blackwell the Bisharp made every single one of Hemlock's attacks bounce off his metallic shell. Grimsley's starter, Rogue the Liepard, was a menace that didn't care if Mirae was young. Survival and strength didn't have an age. Nettle was having a rough go of it with Riot, a Drapion with too-thick armor.
Absinthe, an Absol named in the height of Grimsley's gambling and drinking addiction, was putting Bane through the ringer. Absol has incredible stamina, speed, and stealth; all things pure Darks needed.
Though the two pure Darks had to work far away from camp. The Absol had practically frozen upon release, staring at Ash with wide red eyes. Bane had hissed at his temporary teacher with a protectiveness that surprised Ash.
He knew what Absol could sense. He knew what Sabrina's prophecies had implied.
He pushed that knowledge from his mind. Ash was getting quite good at that.
Castor, the poor, poor Krokorok, wasn't one to have the fight beaten out of him, but Duvessa was getting close. The absolute behemoth of a Krookodile didn't allow half-assed dedication. Ash was worried his newest teammate's spirit would break any day now, but when the Krokorok landed a harsh blow to Hemlock during their most recent clash, the trainer wasn't worried anymore.
The most destructive, shocking, and horrifying matchup of them all was Styx against Riktor.
Riktor the Tyranitar.
Ash had never, not in his three years of training Styx, seen her knocked out so quickly.
To anyone else, it would have looked like the Hydreigon was holding her own. But to the starter-trainer duo defined by their stubbornness and high standards? It was obliteration of the highest order.
Four minutes.
Four minutes for the Tyranitar to knock an eight foot tall Hydreigon out cold. The Hydreigon who hasn't lost a battle since evolving.
It was a humbling experience and showcased the gap between Ash and a Master.
His team was getting faster, stronger, more powerful by the day, growing more in the span of six days than they had in a month. And it wasn't even measured by new techniques, Nether, they didn't even learn any new moves. It was his team's creativity and ability to think. It was his team's ferocity and grace. It was his team's aura of power.
Ash didn't think he could ever repay Grimsley for what he's done.
And that included the therapy.
The day after his attack, Ash hadn't done so well with the exposure therapy. The same image of a Manectric sent him spiraling. But Grimsley had been patient, and understanding, and a little bit of an ass but that, remarkably, helped.
It was a side of a Dark trainer Ash hadn't ever expected to encounter.
At this point they had been on the road for a week now, and the still-images were getting easier to view. He was at the point where a picture of Mabosstiff, an unfamiliar Pokémon from Paldea, wasn't sending him into a panic and videos of Boltund merely spiked his heart rate.
Grimsley had been giving him searching, considering stares for a few days now, almost hesitant to progress. Ash didn't know what the Elite was thinking, and the one time he asked the Dark Master merely hummed.
So here they were, walking along Route 14 the morning after a rather harsh training session and set to enter the seaside Undella Town by early afternoon.
The two Pokémon currently joining him and Grimsley were Mirae and Nettle, and that was only because Mirae could be carried and Nettle could rest on Ash's head and absorb his energy.
While his Pokémon were learning new ways to fight, so was Ash.
Grimsley had taken it upon himself to teach Ash a very specialized fighting style known as "Bar Fighting". Ash huffed a laugh, ignoring the Elite's smirk he could see in his periphery. The Dark Master had picked up many things during his years of debauchery and one was how to win a fight with nothing but bare knuckles and drunken fury.
Ash wasn't entirely sure if this is something Grimsley should be teaching a teenager, but whatever.
All he knew was that his body felt like it had been sent through a garbage compactor and holding Mirae was proving difficult. His Eevee grumbled when Ash had to shift him yet again.
Bill was ecstatic when he learned Mirae had stolen the pearl off a Spoink, but Ash was just exasperated. He didn't need a kleptomaniac on top of a prankster, an uncooperative croc, a mischievous Fairy, an interdimensional beast with no sense of personal space, a sneaky fox that has taken to scaring passersby, a haughty Totem, and an overprotective demon-Dragon that would level a town if her trainer stubbed his toe.
Honestly.
"Again."
Ash pursed his lips but repeated, "Houndoom are a Dark and Fire type canine that can infuse poison in their flames. They are particularly weak to Water and Ground types, while having general weakness to Rock and Fighting. Though they are fast and have powerful long-range attacks, they can be countered by special walls, faster Pokémon, and a majority of Rock types. Most Houndoom are hard to counter due to the public's fear of them. In actuality, they have low defenses and can be defeated with a sound strategy."
Grimsley has been making Ash come up with weaknesses and counters to Houndoom as a way to knock it down from its infernal pedestal in his mind. Houndoom were just like any other regular Pokémon; defeatable.
As they say, if you repeat it enough, you'll start to believe it.
He wasn't stuttering over the name anymore, so that was a plus.
"So, Vertress or Opelucid next?"
Ash hummed. "I'm not sure. There's still a week left of the conference, and I want to watch at least the finals. But Opelucid is closer and I want to test myself against a Dragon Trainer. Iris is said to be a tough opponent."
Grimsley had a sly grin on his face. "Oh, she is. I remember my battle against her. She didn't win, but she took down Riot and Absinthe with her Garchomp, Haxorus, and Druddigon. It was a good battle. I'm still shocked she defeated Marshal."
"How many times has she taken the League Challenge?" After all, you weren't a Master until you defeated three Masters. While it wasn't required, it was an unspoken rule in the Master community that one should defeat a Master of the same type. The only Dragon Masters were Drayden, Lance, Drake, Claire, Raihan, Ryuki, and the Draconid Zinnia.
"Around three times. She defeated Shauntal in her last run through. She just needs to defeat one more Master. If only she had a Hydreigon for Caitlin…" Ash rolled his eyes. Grimsley alluded to the fact that Ash was the only trainer with a Hydreigon at least three times a day. He was pretty sure it was a round-about way to drill some humility into him or something.
"How did she become Gym Leader if she isn't a Master?"
Grimsley side-eyed him. "Drayden is her adopted guardian, and he's the Mayor of Opelucid. His duties took too much of his time, and because there aren't any other Dragon Masters in the whole of Unova, the League made an exception for Iris. She actually defeated Drayden in a Master Battle, but it was later found he was 100% going easy on her. It was quite the scandal."
Eyebrows furrowed, Ash thought about that. "Why did the gym have to stay Dragon based?"
He earned a smile with that remark. "One of Drayden's stipulations. Mayors have a deciding vote on who becomes Gym Leader in their cities."
Ash scrunched up his nose. "That seems a little authoritarian."
A bark of laughter answered. "Certainly, but Opelucid's history and traditions play a huge role. It's like if Blackthorn City tried to be anything other than a Dragon Gym."
"But why don't they just promote a lower-tier gym to one of the Big Eight?"
"Now you're asking the right questions. It all boils down to politics. Opelucid is a powerful city, owning Victory Road and being Alder's home city. Not to mention it houses one of the best universities in Unova and Drayden personally donates to Blueberry Academy every year. There'd be quite a few consequences if Opelucid was knocked out of the Big Eight."
Ash grimaced. He was still deciding if he wanted to be a Champion of a region and/or usurp Leon Dante as Champion of the Pokémon World Tournament and strongest trainer in the world. Either way, he'd have to deal with politics.
The two fell into silence that was only broken when Grimsley made Ash repeat his detailed synopsis of Houndoom with a new strategy against it. All in all, Ash was feeling good. He was making headway with his PTSD, his Pokémon were growing at an exponential rate, and a Dark Master was dedicating his time to Ash. When he got to the Pokémon center, he would exchange Libra for Hemlock. Castor would have his hands full with Duvessa.
Finally, the fog of Route 14 dissipated and gave way to sandy beaches and the sun beating down. The villas were small but startlingly white. The vacation and retirement town was quiet on the October Monday afternoon, the off-season drawing smaller crowds. An old couple walked with their elbows linked in the shallows while a couple kids ran past with a Lillipup happily nipping at their heels.
It almost reminded him of Alola.
Grimsley's raspy voice drew him from his reverie. "I have a client to see here. I'll find you when I'm done." Ash shrugged and waved the Dark Master away, his feet still leading him towards the center.
The Nurse Joy at the counter gave him a relaxed grin and was all too happy to give him a room along with giving his team a full check up. Taking his time to get clean, Ash let the hot water wash away the muggy stick of fog from the past week.
His hair, as per usual, was a hot mess, so he didn't bother attempting to style it. His hat needed a turn in the wash. Pulling on his spare outfit, Ash made the short trek to the communal washer and dryers and threw the bundle in.
He spent the next hour and a half scrolling through his Pokédex and messaging some of the friends he left in Alola. Hau was getting ready to face the Poni Island Kahuna with his newly evolved Politoed.
Grabbing the still-hot laundry, he dumped it in his room and picked up his team. Looking around, he found the videophones and sat down. He dialed the number for the lab and was unsurprised when a Lab Aide picked up.
"What do you need?"
"Need my Hakamo-o and to send over my Morgrem." The aide gave a rather put-out sigh that attempted to hide his trepidation.
Libra must love that.
"Fine, give me a few minutes." Ash leaned back and tapped his foot in impatience. This would be the first time he'd be separated from Hemlock since he started his journey. It was an uncomfortable feeling.
When the aide returned looking a fair bit more ruffled than before, Ash let himself smirk sardonically, earning a narrow-eyed glare. The two swapped out Pokéballs unceremoniously and soon Ash had the shiny Ultra ball in hand. He tipped his head a little bit more mockingly than necessary, much to the aide's annoyance, and hung up.
Holding up the Ultra ball, Ash whispered, "Welcome back, girl."
With Ash's attention on his returned teammate, he didn't notice the heavy footfalls getting closer until a strong, gloved hand landed harshly on his shoulder.
His whole body startled, and when he made to turn, the hand adopted an iron grip that kept him facing away. Ash's heart started thudding against his ribcage but he kept his face carefully neutral even as his captor's autocratic baritone rang in his ears.
"You and I, Mr. Ketchum, are going to chat." The heavy hand pulled him back and it took every ounce of training not to stumble. Ash was guided out of the center, and from his periphery, he caught a sharp, clean-shaven jawline that stood a whole head taller than him and a flash of burgundy.
As his palm surreptitiously danced over his Pokéballs, the hand squeezed in warning. So when Ash was led to a single villa on the edge of town, his breathing picked up and his arms burned.
There was something about the teen that radiated… something. He didn't look all that special, slate gray jeans, black vest with pink accents over a violet under shirt and a standard issue backpack.
But it was the little things about the trainer that caught his attention. The assortment of Pokéballs on his belt, the scar on his face, the bags under his eyes, the exhaustion he exuded, the confident way he carried himself even in the face of the unknown.
It was interesting.
But Lance was here to ensure this… trainer posed no threat to either of his regions.
Thus, he steered the trainer towards Caitlin and Cynthia's villa where they could talk. When it became obvious where they were headed, Lance could feel the shoulder he was gripping tense ever-so-slightly, could see how his balled up, discolored fists jerked every few seconds.
Good. Get him a little nervous and he'll be more likely to talk.
The Champion of Johto and Kanto kept his grip firm as he unlocked the front door. The open floor concept kept the villa light and airy; not the best atmosphere for an interrogation, but it would have to do.
Lance guided Mr. Ketchum to the kitchen table and sat him down perhaps a bit rougher than required. When he circled the table to sit down, he narrowed his eyes when gold met blood red. He knew eyes like that.
But what really aggravated the Champion (he wasn't unsettled) was the lack of reaction. The teen's eyes didn't widen, he didn't blink, he didn't jump, he didn't gasp.
Nothing.
What he did do was lean back in his chair, cross his arms, and stare.
Okay. So that's how it's going to play out.
Lance smoothed out his expression and allowed the silence to draw out. Sharp eyes caught tense muscles and a clenched jaw, contradicting the teen's unaffected facade. Lance allowed himself a spark of triumph.
"Ashton Red Ketchum, fifteen years old, born on March 14th in Pallet Town. Sponsored by Professor Samuel Oak, Dr. Bill Richards, and Professor Koa Kukui. Recently, you were responsible for defeating and detaining six Team Rocket operatives, including the last known Elite. Of the 36 identified Pokémon, 27 were detained and 9 were dead.
"Relic Castle's Maze End was found 46% melted and/or destroyed with one wall 83% caved in and the ceiling 39% demolished. A previously unknown adhesive poison kept all surviving Rockets and Pokémon in place."
Lance put his hands on the table and leaned forward. He could see the barest hint of wariness and curiosity in those devilish eyes. "That's all well and good, but what I want to know is why the kid that supposedly accomplished all of this owns a damned Houndour!" His hand came down on the wooden table with a resounding thud.
He was expecting Mr. Ketchum to freeze, or startle, cower, or even yelp.
But he laughed.
The laugh was low and filled with derision, the kid shaking his head. Lance felt himself seethe. He knew there was something suspicious, Oak was too blinded by his bias to see it. The Champion opened his mouth, but he was cut off before he could begin.
"Ah, so that's what this is about." The trainer tilted his head and leaned forward, his hands hiding in his lap and his expression one of indulgence. "So threatened by a teenager, it's absurd really." His voice was as cutting as it was sweet. "Oh sure, you put on a wonderful show, all exaggerated confidence and perfectly timed aggression. A Champion, trying to intimidate a teenager, how the mighty have fallen. You sink to this level the moment your control is in jeopardy, the moment Team Rocket resurfaces. And now, you're directing your hatred and fear to me, all because I have a Houndour. Does jumping to conclusions make you feel capable? Does a fifteen year old with a puppy threaten your reputation?"
What the fuck?
Lance's nostrils flared from the insolence, his anger masking the aching wound that was so carelessly reopened.
He felt small.
He hated feeling small.
He felt small through his childhood, his journey, his hunt and war against Team Rocket. The sight of Fiona's broken, bleeding body missing a wing. The loss of his sweet Coral. He's always struggled and fought to feel big. He had accomplished that, these last 16 years. Then here comes this boy, making him feel small.
"Hold your tongue!" The words were bitten and hissing and Lance knew he was rising to this child's words, based on the satisfied but oddly broken smirk on the kid's face. It made him feel like a cornered Bagon.
"I'm sorry, did my words strike a cord? Gee, it must be my obvious criminal background. I mean, I caught a puppy Pokémon, I must be Team Rocket." Mr. Ketchum's mouth twisted into an ugly sneer, his words turning sharper, messier. "I mean, who'd go through such a traumatic and horrifying experience unless they were a criminal? Protecting their family and teammates? Blasphemy! Spending days recovering in a hospital? Psh, no no, that was just a diversion tactic, don't want anyone to catch on to my immorality."
The trainer was fully baring his teeth at this point, face scrunched in fury and words like Poison Stings. His breathing was fast and disjointed, fingernails were digging into the fabric of his loose sweatshirt. This was a Dragon on the defensive.
What happened next, Lance would later realize was a series of appalling decisions on his part.
With a flash of light, it took the Champion a moment to feel the Pokéball release button beneath his fingertip. His fearsome Agni materialized in the kitchen and Lance watched the trainer's face with desperate anticipation, hoping to see the intimidation tactic as the very real threat it was.
He got what he wanted.
But he didn't just see hesitation.
He saw fear.
He saw paralyzing terror.
Mr. Ketchum cried out at the sight of the Arcanine, pushing away and stumbling from the table, chair crashing to the ground.
Arms crossed in an X in front of his face.
Sleeves falling down to his elbows.
Twisting, scorched, alight, like the forearms were still burning, still dying; grooved skin dancing and wrapping like a toxic caress.
Lance felt bile rise up in his throat because at that moment he saw a traumatized, injured child.
He observed in slow motion as red eyes grew hazy and feet fell out from beneath. Muscles locked so tight, it looked as if a single touch would shatter the child.
And then another burst of light filled the room, and Lance understood chaos.
The demonic shriek stoked a fear in Lance that he hasn't felt since his beautiful Fiona lost her ability to battle trying to save Coral. That same all-encompassing horror that suspends all movement, all thought processes, until only one thought remained; survive.
The house shook with the force of the demon's unleashing, midnight feathers and cobalt scales obscuring all sight. Unthinkingly, Lance reached out, maybe he could save the boy from this beast, but then teeth replaced feathers and scales and the Champion stumbled back.
Crashing drowned out all other noise, one wall struck by the demon's tail, drywall and plywood crumbling like toothpicks. Agni was growling, but even his Intimidate had nothing on the natural aura of the Dragon. Lance was going cross-eyed from the dizzying sway of three heads until the center mouth released a condensed ball of energy that struck Agni in his chest, sending him crashing through another wall.
Dragon.
Maybe…
And that's when the Champion made his next mistake.
His throat vibrated from the force of his Thrum. The Dragon Master planted himself before the beast, flaring whatever confidence and stubbornness he could.
The Hydreigon's nostrils flared from his insolence.
Lance dove away from the second Dragon Pulse just as Agni bound back into view. The draconic energy shattered the far wall. His Arcanine had liquid fire dripping from his maw and lept at the rampaging demon.
But then something strange happened.
The Hydreigon threw up a Protect.
Agni struck it jarringly and stepped back, snarling and biting at air. Through the watery green dome, the Champion could just make out the center head rising, a black vest clenched between fangs.
Emotions still running high, Lance shouted. But the Dragon's focus was zeroed in on the suddenly small looking boy.
Lance blinked and watched with a sense of detachment as the demon, with breathtaking gentleness, placed the boy across its back. The Champion felt he was moving through molasses as the Protect fell, more wall crumbling without the dome holding it up. With a flex of mighty legs and six wings, the Hydreigon fled.
A Dragon fled.
A Hydreigon fled.
That, more than anything, snapped Lance out of whatever limbic response that had taken hold of him. He shook himself and gazed around the demolished villa, mind trying to process what just happened.
He was a Champion for Lugia's sake. He had let emotion overpower logic from the get-go. He let his fear of Team Rocket cloud his judgment. He antagonized a child.
A horribly, horribly scarred child.
Lance had let his anger and embarrassment hasten his actions, releasing a Pokémon to… what? Had he truly attempted to threaten a teenager with a Pokémon that had killed humans and Pokémon alike? That same action that sent a traumatized child into a panic attack and flashback.
He let his arrogance convince him he could force authority on a Hydreigon - probably the most dangerous and aggressive Pokémon in existence, bar legendaries.
How could he allow such an absence of common sense?
"Well, thanks for undoing all my hard work."
Lance whirled around to find Grimsley Griima, Unova Elite Four, Dark Master, leaning casually against the partially destroyed doorway. Sharp cerulean eyes were drifting along the ruins, barely sparing Lance any notice. The Champion would almost think Grimsley didn't care. Lance's awareness has evidently gone to shit recently, but even he could see the tense lines of the thin frame. Could see the white-knuckled fists and minute clenching of his jaw.
The Dragon Master was at a loss for words. He felt shame, hot and prickling, crawling up his neck. "You had been working with him?"
Grimsley's eyes darted to meet his own, and he could see the Elite was pissed. "Yes, but doctor-patient confidentiality and all that. You're smart - or, you used to be - so you can probably connect the dots. But maybe I'm giving you too much credit."
Sometimes Lance really disliked Dark trainers. Their truths were always hard to swallow.
"I fucked up, yes."
"Glad we can agree on something." Lance's eyebrows furrowed. Grimsley was really pissed.
"How long have you known the kid?"
The Unovan raised an eyebrow. "Does it matter?"
Lance was silent for a moment. "...No, I suppose it doesn't."
The two were silent for a long moment. Agni was facing the gaping hole in the wall, a mass of fur on his chest blackened and almost seared away. He was walking a bit disjointed, but he was still good to go. That Hydreigon was strong if it could make Agni wince.
"So let me guess, you let your biases cloud your judgment, you came at the kid, guns a blazin', not expecting the wicked tongue he's got on him, and you, a 39 year old man, let a teenager rile you up."
The Champion gnashed his teeth together but didn't try to defend himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He dragged a weary hand down his face before pushing his hair back. "Can you… can you just explain to me what happened?"
Grimsley scoffed, derision in every angle of his body. His nose was lifted like he smelled something unsavory. "You used your power and station and damned ego to force a fifteen-year-old boy into a panic attack so bad, he dissociated. His starter protected him. What more needs to be explained?"
Lance winced and bowed his head, fists clenching and unclenching in time with the waves of mortification that washed over him. The rest of the statement registered and his head popped up in bewilderment.
"His starter?"
The Dark Master froze for a moment before a dawning realization made him grind his teeth. "Are you telling me that you didn't check what Pokémon he had? You didn't do any background checks on him? Looked into what kind of kid he was? You saw his most recent capture; the Houndour, and… what?"
Biting his cheek hard enough for blood to flood his mouth, Lance swallowed thickly. "Yes, that's what happened. I was informed he had other Dark types." He would own up to mistakes if it was the last thing he did.
Grimsley sucked his front teeth noisily, displeasure radiating from every pore. "Were you informed he was an aspiring Chaos Trainer?" Lance nodded once. "Oh, so you were so blinded by your own prejudice, prejudice that you deny having, and ran off on your own?"
Working his jaw back and forth, Lance kept eye contact before letting his gaze drop.
"Do you ever even talk to Karen? Or was she just a pity hire for PR?"
His silence was deafening.
Shaking his head, Grimsley just looked disgusted. "I'm going to give it an hour, and if he's not back, I'll go find him. You know us Darks, too independent for our own good." Grimsley gave a tired smirk before it slowly fell and he looked at Lance, eyes far away. "Well, I guess you wouldn't know."
That almost cut deeper than Mr. Ketchum's words.
Many feels, next chapter will be lighter.
Both Ash and Lance could have handled that better. Even good people, people like Lance with authority and people that are heroes, can have prejudices and biases. "You can be a hero and still be wrong"
Krokorok has joined the team, but seeing Ash not at his best is influencing his behavior
Can I just say, it's surprisingly difficult to make Ash's chronic pain a significant presence without going overboard or not mentioning it enough. I know it can be exhausting reading about pain and trauma, so I'm still figuring out that balance. And don't worry, I have a plan for the Houndoom Scars.
Team With Ash
Styx - Hydreigon
Bane - Zoroark
Mirae - Eevee
Sagitta - Togetic
Libra - Hakamo-o
Nettle - Poipole
Castor - Krokorok
At Oak's
Hemlock - Morgrem
Unnamed - Houndour
Grimsley's Team (known)
Blackwell - Bisharp
Rogue - Liepard
Absinthe - Absol
Riot - Drapion
Riktor - Tyranitar
Duvessa - Krookodile
Marrow - Mandibuzz
Pyre - Houndoom (mentioned)