Barry leaned closer to the bathroom mirror, holding onto the edge of the sink with one hand. He stared at his own face for what felt like minutes. Looking close, studying it. He recognized each quiver of his lower lip, each twitch of his eyelid, each crinkle of his nose. Every little change in his expression corresponded with something inside, a sudden shift or fluctuation in the mess that was… him, now. Each emotion was easy to tell when it was himself.
So why was it so hard when it came to everyone else?
He raised his free hand slowly up his face, fingers slightly curled, their shadows obscuring his face. For a moment he held it there, blocking his own vision. This was it. This was what it felt like with everyone else. Then he moved it. Pressed the tip of his fingers against his cheeks and the bridge of his nose and ran them down his face until his hand fell limply to his side again.
A hot, uncomfortable shiver ran down the lines he'd touched down his own face. For a second, it felt like every nerve and blood vessel that touched those lines came alive, letting out tiny shocks and prickling him under the skin. A kind of itch he knew ran deeper than he could scratch. It would've been fine if it was just his face, or if it was just any place he touched with his own hands.
But it was everywhere now. That itch, that hot, uncomfortable feeling of restlessness he could do nothing about ran through every part of him, from tip to toe. It didn't matter what he did. He'd tried sitting still or just laying on his hospital bed without moving a muscle but it was still there, still pulsing from his chest outwards like a second, poisonous heartbeat. It made his hands and face twitch involuntarily and constantly made him want to kick or punch the nearest wall just so the rush –or at least the pain of impact– would momentarily numb him.
The pain in his stomach was nothing, in comparison. He pressed a hand against his hospital gown, against the wound, and flinched. It was sudden and sharp, but at least its strength was such that he felt numb for a few seconds after.
And if Barry couldn't stop the boiling, molten lump of anxiety and god-knew-what-else pulsing inside his chest, then he would've at least liked to feel as numb as the rest of the world felt around him.
He looked up again, and the pair of eyes that looked back at him were not the dark brown he'd known all his life but a rich, bright gold. Mesprit's eyes.
His nose crinkled at the thought, fingers closing strongly against the edge of the sink. Once again, he saw the anger in his face just as clearly as he felt it.
Is it some kinda bad joke? He thought, frowning. Why…?
Mesprit was gone, and so were its powers within him. Barry had tried to use them, boy had he tried, but no matter what he did everyone's emotions around him felt as distant and impossible to discern as though they were wearing masks over their faces.
It was… maddening. Back when Mesprit had bonded with him, back when he'd first started getting used to his new empath powers, he'd done his best not to use them when it wasn't appropriate. Other people's emotions were their own business. He didn't want to cheat and get insight into someone if they didn't want him to have it. He'd felt guilty every time he slipped, every time the other person's emotions were simply too strong for him to ignore. But at the same time…
At the same time… it had felt good. Clear as crystal. He could actually understand what people were feeling, he could relate to them and react to what they were saying and doing like a normal person instead of simply staring at their face in confusion, unable to read them, wondering what the hell was going through their heads. That's how it'd always been before. With everyone but Niss, their faces felt like puzzles he couldn't solve. Occasionally, for a split second, he'd recognize a flash of an emotion he knew in their faces and suddenly said faces made sense, but then the expression would shift and they'd go back to being confusing and inscrutable.
But with Mesprit, things were different. It felt like a breath of fresh air. Like something he'd been lacking ever since he was a kid was handed back to him, even if it was basically cheating on his part. He could finally, finally talk to and deal with people the way everyone else did, without that ever-present confusion constantly making him wonder if he was misreading the situation.
For the first time in his life, he could understand everyone as well as he understood Niss, and having that taken away from him…
It… felt like losing one of his senses. It made everything around him feel cold and distant and… confusing. It made him feel like he was a kid again, before he'd been diagnosed, before he'd gotten the help he needed. It made him feel… broken. Wrong. Now, once again, there was only one person in the world he would've felt normal around, and he had absolutely no idea where she was.
Niss…
Barry sighed, looking down and letting go of the sink, taking a few steps back. From this distance, his reflection looked as shifty and inscrutable as everyone else constantly did.
If only…
"Barry? Barry, are you h–"
He heard steps coming over, and it took him a few seconds to realize someone was standing at the door before he looked over his shoulder.
"M-mom?"
Sarah stood with one hand against the sill of the door, blinking at him. She… didn't look good. He could at least tell that much because it would've been obvious even to someone looking from afar. Whatever expression she wore could barely be seen under the bags under her eyes and the lines of exhaustion adorning her face. Her cheeks were hollow and her suit fit more loosely than it'd done before.
And her eyes… Especially now, Barry was the worst at reading emotions, but whatever swirled and boiled behind her mother's eyes, it made him want to look away. Made him want to run from her, even if it wasn't directed at him.
"Why… what are you doing here?" she asked, frowning. "Why haven't you changed yet? The nurses did tell you, right? You're being discharged so… so you can attend the memorial."
Her voice creaked slightly at the end of her sentence, something sharp and unpleasant gleaming behind her eyes. Her fingers were pale with how strongly she held onto her own arms.
But Barry could barely pay attention to that. He'd only come here to the bathroom a few minutes ago… hadn't he? How long had passed since the nurse had brought him his clothes and told him to change into them?
"I'm… sorry."
Sarah swallowed, and her expression softened ever so slightly.
"It's no problem," she said. "There's still an hour left until it starts, so we have time. Come on, let's go back to your room."
She took a step back from the room, waiting for him, but Barry didn't move. He stared at the floor in front of her shoes, blinking dazedly, still processing what was happening and what he needed to do. Another pulse of that uncomfortable feeling ran through him and he had the sudden urge to scratch his arms.
"Barry?"
"Where…?" He mouthed the words, but for a second no sounds came out. "W-where… were you? I haven't seen you… much."
Sarah's mouth fell slightly open. "I… I was with you the whole time since you were brought in. Right until you woke up and they told me you'd be okay."
"But where'd you go after that?"
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Sarah blinked a couple times, as though she didn't understand his question.
"I've been… working, Barry. Pretty much nonstop since then. What else would I be doing?" There was a bit of heat in her voice at that last sentence, which she hurried to correct. "I'm sorry. I… I know you must still be…" She thought for a few moments, but couldn't seem to find the words. "The nurses told me you could start taking your usual medication again. They're sorry they couldn't let you before. Something about it interfering with the painkillers and all the other stuff they gave you."
She smiled as soon as she said that, although it was a smile wholly different from the ones Barry remembered gracing her face. This one was weak and it didn't extend to her eyes. Seeing it only made the itch inside him pulse worse and worse.
"…Okay. Thanks." He looked around nervously, fingers clenching and unclenching against his hand. "A-are they going to give me my Pokeballs back?"
Sarah didn't like that question. Her scowl made that perfectly clear.
"Yes. They've… decided not to press into what happened on your part. The Association already has enough to deal with to go around punishing someone like you," she said, tone bitter. "So yes… you'll have your Pokeballs back."
"Ah… thanks."
"Now, we should get going. Come on." She gestured toward the door. "We don't want to be late f–"
"Do you know where Niss is?"
Sarah paused, stammering for a second. Her eyes bore straight into Barry, her expression one that made him feel as though he'd done something wrong.
"No. I don't know where she went after leaving the hospital, though I was thinking of asking Johanna," she said courtly, lips pursing. "But like I said–"
"Mom…"
"What?" She couldn't stop the heat and irritation from seeping into her voice, though she was quick to close her eyes and take a deep breath. "What is it, Barry?"
"I…"
It took him a few tries of mumbling and stuttering before he could get the words to come out, and when they did, it felt like something else from his chest went along with them.
"Dad's dead."
Sarah made a face like she'd been slapped across the face. For a split second, whatever semblance of composure she'd been trying to keep shattered to pieces and she just stood there, eyes wide and glassy, shoulders shaking, staring at Barry. By the time she got her voice back, she sounded utterly spent. Exhausted.
"I… I know, Barry."
The way she said that made something in his chest clump up, like a fist closing around his insides. But… still, why? He didn't understand.
"Then why… I mean, why aren't you…" He tried to find the words, but was left simply frowning and shaking his head, feeling irritated. "W-what's wrong? D-did I do something bad?"
Sarah's eyes widened at that. She looked at a loss for words.
"W-what?"
"You're… you're mad at me, right?"
"What!?" Sarah shook her head, stammering. "W-why would you think that?"
"I d-d-don't know!" he hissed through clenched teeth, arms and legs tensing up. "I don't… I don't understand you, w-why you left and why you're t-trying to act tough now and… I d-don't get it. I don't understand anyone a-and n-no one's come to visit and I c-can't reach Niss or Reiko or Percy o-or anyone else a-and…"
His voice broke down more and more with every word he spoke. The itch spread throughout his entire body, flaring up all his nerves in the worst, most uncomfortable way possible and it felt like there were ants running under his skin and he just wanted to punch himself everywhere and–
"I… I don't know what happened," he whispered, a sob getting caught in his throat. "I g-got hit and passed out and w-when I woke up he was…"
Barry looked up at his mother, hands closed over his chest, his expression that of someone desperately asking for help.
"I d-d-don't know what to do. I've never… it's n-never felt this bad," he said. "Is it… was it my fault? Is t-that why everyone's gone?"
Sarah's expression was unreadable as she slowly walked toward him and wrapped her hands around his shoulders. Barry simply let himself fall against her embrace. Face buried in the crook of her neck, he let every sob and shake thunder through his body, slowly unraveling the anxious not that had grown inside of his chest.
And all the while, Sarah stood still as a plank, holding him. When she finally said something, it was low enough that he was unable to hear it over the sound of his crying.
"I always just wanted to protect you. I left the task of understanding you to him, but now…" She closed her eyes tightly. "I don't know if I can learn to do both. I'm sorry."
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Even when he made it back to his hospital room, it took Barry a while to be able to change into his usual clothes, what with Auri and Paulette clinging to him the moment they exited their Pokeballs.
"Raaa!"
"Prii-purii!"
"Gh… I-it's okay… t-take it easy guys, you're kinda smothering me…"
Past the enormous black wingspan enveloping him, Barry noticed the rest of his team looking at him as though in a trance. Like they didn't believe he was actually there. Relief was clear as crystal in their faces, something Barry shared at being able to discern that. So at least he could still understand his Pokemon, if nothing else.
The thought unraveled one of the knots that had formed in his stomach somewhat, and suddenly it felt like he could breathe a bit easier. The itch dulled, if only slightly. Despite the dry trails of tears still clear in his face, he found it easy to smile.
"I heard you gave it your all back in Lake Valor," he said, addressing all of them. "Thanks. Without you I don't know if I would've…"
He couldn't find it in him to finish the sentence, but he didn't need to. No words were needed between them. Both Razen and Kitsune seemed to have dropped their airs of indifference for once, genuine, heartfelt relief looking so weird in their usually scowly faces. Wrathia looked happy too, although there was more of a dignified air to it. A nod and a curved smile, an acknowledgment.
Pedri's face was, as always, inscrutable, but his eyes were not. He took a step toward Barry and, as Paulette moved aside to give him room, he raised one of his enormous steel fins and gently tapped the back of it against his chest. Barry didn't need to see to know that the Empoleon's fingers were curled into fists. He was happy, yes. He was extremely relieved too. But there was something else in those proud eyes of his.
All of us are still here, together, his expression seemed to say. So we keep moving.
Barry's smile wavered slightly, but he didn't drop it, instead giving his starter a short, determined nod.
At the very least here, in this room, with his partners, almost everything felt… right again. Like he was still in his journey. Still looking forward to the next trial in his Gym challenge with Team Galactic and the end of the world being only a mild concern in the horizon. But even if that wasn't the case anymore…
"Prii…pu-rii?"
Barry blinked, then looked down at his arm where Auri still refused to let go of him. Her skinny arms were wrapped tightly around his elbow. She looked up at him with something he… couldn't quite identify, but that looked almost like sadness or concern or… confusion. Like there was something she couldn't understand, and it was bothering her deeply.
"What's wrong, Auri?"
"Pu-ririi…"
Still holding on, she looked all around, including at the floor and ceiling, like she was trying to find something or someone. Then she looked up at him and raised one of her hands, tapping his chest much like Pedri had done a second ago.
"I… I don–"
That's when it dawned on him. He remembered what the Pokedex had said about Auri's species; they were natural empaths, they took in the joy and contentment of those around them and then gave it back to those they cared about, amplified.
Those they care about…
He'd never really thought about it before but… had there ever been a time when Auri was outside of her Pokeball with Barry, but Niss wasn't there? He couldn't think of one. The moment she came out of her egg, those weeks they spent taking care of her, that nerve-wracking, wonderful night when Niss had confessed to him and then the morning after when they'd found out Auri had evolved because of them…
Barry was technically Auri's trainer, yes, but that didn't necessarily mean that she knew that. Did she… did she think that both him and Niss were her caretakers? That would explain why she looked so distraught at not being able to sense her, and why she clung onto Barry, probably sensing that the mess of emotions inside his chest had something to do with her absence.
"Auri…"
Immediately, whatever peace and determination Pedri's gesture had given him flew out the window, and he felt the itch come back in full force, especially behind his eyes. His lips started quivering. Auri felt it and clung onto him with even more strength in a feeble attempt to help.
Get a hold of yourself, he thought, clenching his teeth. She doesn't understand… she's counting on you.
"It's… it's going to be okay. I miss her too," he said, forcing himself to smile. "A lot of things happened and I… just got stable enough to get out of the hospital. And there's something I have to go do now. Something I'll need you inside of your ball for." He would not be as cruel as to let Auri out during a memorial. "But after that… I'll look for her, alright? I'm sure we'll see her again soon, I promise."
Auri looked up to him, half scared and half hopeful, and Barry really wished he could've imbued just a little more confidence into his voice.
But such things felt pretty hard to come by at the moment.
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Barry figured he could look around in his house, maybe show it for the first time to his team, while his mom headed to the memorial site on the outskirts of town and made sure everything was alright.
It was a mistake.
He could barely recognize the place. The furniture was in the same place, all the rooms looked the same as before, but there was simply no sign that anyone had lived in them recently.
There was no warm light coming through the window; the blinds were down. There were no wrinkles or indentations on the sofa or any of the beds, which may have signaled that people had rested on them at some point. There was no smell of fruits or sweets or baked goods, like Barry remembered so vividly. There was only darkness, stillness and the scent of dusty, stagnant air.
It reminded him of that dead, broken chateau in Eterna forest.
In the end he didn't let his Pokemon out, nor did he stay inside for more than a couple minutes. Nauseous, shaking, he barely remembered to lock the door behind him as he shuffled out of the house and into open air as fast as he possibly could.