Sirius didn’t know how long they had flown for.
The burning forest had long been abandoned, and though if one squinted they could probably see the plume of smoke wafting upwards from the aftermath, the glow of heat and embers were now just a flicker of light in the otherwise dark forest.
His arm was numb, the blood flow had been fucked from being gripped too tightly in Golbat’s talons, and his shoulder felt as if it was going to tear at any moment. Still, he did not complain, instead holding onto both Pokémon and trainer as if he were a shipwrecked sailor out in a stormy sea.
“Golbat, down! He’s about to pass out!”
To be honest he’d already passed out a couple times, each time he was woken up again by Quinn’s desperate shouting. That only added to his curiosity though.
Why did Quinn save him?
He was grateful whatever the reason may have been, but it would be better for him to know in the end. He doubted it was out of the kindness of his heart, even if it would have been nice to believe. But this was Galactic, the people who ran the biggest crime syndicate on Sinnoh, ones who weren’t afraid to kill in order to complete their mission.
“Doubt I’m much better, though.” Sirius almost chuckled as Golbat landed, collapsing into the soft cool grass with a groan.
He wasn’t some video game protagonist, he wasn’t a hero. There was a time in his life when he wanted to be though, before the bombs. He lived his life clean, he treated everybody with respect, he stuck out for the ones who wouldn’t stick out for themselves. Maybe he did read too many mangas with selfless protagonists, but he admired them all the same, he emulated them.
There was a reason they were the heroes of fiction however.
How could you trust, when knowing letting your guard down could mean death? How could you share your food or drink, knowing that if you did, you would go hungry? How could you stick up for another, knowing that if you did, the people you cared about would end up hurt instead?
The answer was simple, you didn’t.
It took less than a year for life to shatter the ideal persona that he’d built up his entire life. He wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t selfless, he wasn’t nice. He was…decent.
Decency meant you could hold onto a semblance of good. You didn’t take more than you needed, you didn’t hurt someone more than necessary, you didn’t betray someone because you were all in the same boat together.
But that’s where the line ended, and the exceptions came up.
What if what you needed was all the other person had? You took it anyway. What if you couldn’t afford mercy? You broke bones, you killed. What if betraying someone meant you and yours could live a better life?
You destroyed.
“Hey, stay with me.” Quinn said, snapping his fingers in front of Sirius’s face.
“I’m…good.” He managed to wheeze back.
His companion frowned, “You don’t sound good.”
“Breathed in…too much smoke. Hurts a little…but we’re good.”
Even in the darkness, Sirius could see Quinn wasn’t convinced. If his throat was better he’d lecture a little, he’d spent years scouring through different first aid and medical books. And though he wasn’t a professional doctor or anything like that, he could tell what was life threatening and what wasn’t.
“Fuck, hold on. Let me get some berries out.”
His head perked up at that. Berries? A Sitrus berry had literally sewn his skin back together like it was nothing. It could probably do something about the sore throat.
Quinn stuck a hand down his belt, which Sirius noted was right beneath Finchley’s bandolier of Pokeballs. He brought out a small cube device, honestly just reminding Sirius of a Pokeball except square. Setting it down a flash of light erupted, and after a few moments of him blinking away the spots, Sirius saw a small little setup.
Quinn slipped a flashlight out from yet another pocket, and with a quiet click-! Revealed a sitting table, complete with a pestle and mortar, as well as a large assortment of berries.
“How are your injuries?”
“Bruised ribs…smoke…cuts.” Sirius wheezed out.
“Sitrus Berry base, Rawst filler….Chesto add-in?” Quinn muttered to himself, picking apart the berries and dumping them into the mortar. Satisfied, he began grinding them down with the pestle, Sirius watched him work in silence, only the ambience of the night forest and the soft grinding sound filling the air around them.
Once done with the grinding process he uncorked a bottle of water, pouring in about a half-cup. He pushed the bowl into Sirius’s arms.
“Drink.” Quinn commanded, and Sirius did, gulping down the mixture, immediately gagging at the terrible mix of bitter Rawst combined with the dryness of the Chesto.
“If you spill that you’re going to regret it.” Quinn warned, pushing the bowl up when Sirius tried to lower it. He glared back at him but continued to drink, finishing with a grimace.
“Tastes like shit.” He commented, settling back into the tree with a sigh.
“Yea? Well next time try not to go hand-to-hand with trainers in a burning forest.”
Oh. He wanted to play this game, did he? Ok.
“Wouldn’t have needed to unless someone failed to take down a couple of Grunts.”
Quinn, who had been busy organizing his little berry kit, slowly turned back to face Sirius.
“The same Grunts who wouldn’t need to have been dealt with unless someone hadn’t interrupted us that night.”
“Maybe if someone paid more attention, they wouldn’t have gotten beat up by a couple nobodies.”
“...”
“You’ve got terrible lying skills by the way.”
“I should have left you in the forest.”
Silence passed, both trainers kept their eyes locked on one another, eyes as sharp as daggers.
Quinn broke first.
“Fuck.” He chuckled, causing Sirius to snort as well, “Fuck you, man.”
“Don’t swing that way, sorry.” He grinned back, laughing more when Quinn scoffed.
“If you’re good enough to joke around, you’re good enough to move, let’s go.”
“Yea, yea.” Sirius waved, the mixture had done wonders, his throat was already better and he could feel the pain in his body dulling. Standing up however, he was hit with a wave of vertigo that forced him back down.
“Second thought, might need a minute.” He winced.
“Guess the damage was worse than we thought.” Quinn frowned, before sitting down beside him.
“Knew it was too good to be true.”
“Hm?”
“The berries, the healing factor. It’s a miracle drug.”
“I’m pretty sure there are berries in Unova.”
“Ah, yea there were.” Sirius quickly responded, “But we didn’t get to eat a lot ourselves, mostly reserved for trainers and people with actual money.”
“I see…how’d you end up in that situation in the first place?”
They didn’t, considering how the whole story was bullshit.
“I don’t really give secrets that easily.” He said instead.
“Hm.”
“We could trade, though.”
“And how would that work?” Quinn asked, intrigued.
“I ask a question, you answer, you ask a question, I answer.”
Considering how most of the story would be bullshit, it didn’t matter much. But he wanted to know more about the man sitting beside him. An actual person, not an 8-bit sprite.
“...I’ll bite.” Quinn answered after taking a moment to think, “Ask away.”
“Why did you save me?”
Sirius’s eyes were locked onto Quinn’s once more, though the darkness made it impossible to tell what expression the man was making in the darkness.
“You’re useful.” He finally answered, “We’re about to enter a shadow war, and having someone stupid enough to charge down the entire Galactic HQ without any Pokemon to their name would probably benefit us.”
Sirius chuckled, setting his head back against the tree. Textbook answer, just as he thought.
“But.” Quinn continued softly, “You were also interesting.”
Sirius glanced back at him as he continued talking, “When I managed to get Leland and I back to base, I heard all about what happened. You faced a token guard, sure, but still. Tactics, trickery, brute force. You did it all…just to free some Pokémon as well. I could respect that, and that’s what got to me. You’re not just a run-of-the-mill thug, you’re smart, resourceful. I like that.”
That was…touching.
“Dude…” Sirius said after a while, “I told you I don’t swing that way.”
Quinn laughed, “Yea yea, leave me and my poor, broken heart alone. It’s my turn now.”
“Shoot.”
“Why go so far?”
“You gotta be a little more specific.”
“Why did you fight for so long, against Aurafire? You saw it was a losing battle, you had no Pokémon, why’d you stay?”
“...I thought it’d be better for us, Pr-Felis and myself. There’s no way a mission like this could have been handled by a Grunt. Cyrus will want to know what happened.” Sirius grinned, poking the belt at Quinn’s side, “And the fact that we succeeded? Maybe they’ll get off our backs.”
“You almost died, on the offhand chance your brother might be respected a little more?”
“...Whatever’s best for him, always.”
Pranav wasn’t good, Sirius knew that, he wasn’t even decent. He was selfish, egotistical, manipulative. But he was loyal to the core. How many times would he have died if Pran hadn’t taken the selfish route? Sirius would trust blindly, seeing the smiling and grateful faces of those he helped, unaware of the daggers behind their eyes. Pranav knew, he always knew. He used to tease him for being paranoid, but fight after fight against the ones who had begged for help had changed his view. It’s why they designated Pran as the talker. Not that Sirius was bad at it, but Pranav was fairly good at sussing out intentions. And if they ever tried anything…
Well, Sirius had always been the better fighter.
He owed his brother, who had stuck by him thick and thin. Who fought side by side with him, gone hungry with him, cold, dirty, homeless. Even when Al, some ex-gangster posing as a dictator tried to bribe his brother to his side with more luxuries, food, and women they had seen since the bombs fell, Pranav stood by his side without any hint of wavering loyalty.
Complained the entire time though.
“Whatever I can do for him, whatever will make his life better, I’ll do it.” He resolved.
Because Pran would do the same for him.
Quinn was quiet for a few moments, before finally letting out a quiet sigh, “If you want to do what’s best for him, maybe you shouldn’t be throwing yourself into stupid fights.”
Sirius blinked, “Huh?”
“You guys have any other family?”
“Na, he’s all I got left.”
“Then try not to get yourself killed. You’re all he’s got left as well.”
“...You sound like you’re talking from experience.”
He heard Quinn’s weight shift beside him, the man drawing up one knee and resting his chin down on top as he spoke, “Leland, and my Pokemon.”
“Wanna share?”
“I…” Quinn trailed.
“Hey, nevermind man, it’s cool.”
“Thanks.” He whispered, “I will say though, Heracross wasn’t mine before. He belonged to my sister. And though he’s been a great companion, I think both of us would have rather had her with us as well.”
“...I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago, but thanks. Just…a lot of people are willing to die for the ones they love, but they don’t realize that it’s living for their loved ones that really matters. To give them a lifetime of treasured memories instead of a ‘noble’ sacrifice, that’s where real love comes from.”
“Woah.” Sirius nodded, “You’re pretty wise when you want to be.”
“Looks that way when I’m talking to an idiot.”
Sirius–no–Arun laughed. It had been a while since he’d held an actual conversation with someone, aside from Talia and his brother of course. But this was different, a possible friend, one who he’d fought beside and respected.
“I think I’m good to head back now.” Sirius finally said as his laughter died, standing up with a stretch. The rancid berry mix had done its miracle work, he was still very sore, but he felt better, and could move still.
“Damn, and it was my turn to ask a question too.”
“Ask while we’re flying?”
“Sure…just answer me this.”
Sirius stopped, turning to face him.
“Do you intend to betray Galactic?”
That…that was a good question. Did he? He intended to leave Galactic, sure. But betray? What good would that do? They would be stopped already by the Sinnoh protagonists, right? Red existed, that meant…shit what were their names? Sirius had always named them stupid things like BIG BALLS 49 or something along those lines.
“Not unless they betray us first.” He finally said, deciding that would be the best answer he could come up with.
Quinn appeared to agree, taking Golbat back out of its Pokeball and beginning the long flight back to Veilstone, the two talking about more mundane things now that danger was behind them.
It was quite pleasant.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A lonely house stood in the middle of the snow. As far as the eye could see was an endless expanse, a living limbo with nothing but grey skies and snowy ground. To anyone looking from afar, it would be clear it was a dream, a machination of the inner mind.
To Felis, it was reality.
Eyes red from tears that burned his skin, He lay there face-down on the floor shivering, covered in spittle, vomit, and other things he was too weak to deal with on his own. Instead, he waited for death to take him.
It started easy enough, it was a dream, Hypnosis. He knew the events that led up to the dream, he knew he was hit with a move. He just needed to wait it out, he just had to be patient for a few hours.
But then the hours turned to days.
The days turned to weeks.
The weeks became a month.
Panic slowly overtook him, reason left his mind. Why didn’t he need to eat or drink? The questions of a logical person fled him as terror wormed its way through his mind, as pain overtook his body, as the weakness drove him into insanity. Time of muted pain and isolation banished the cherished memories of walking and living within a world of fantasy, wonder, and oddly dressed gangsters, instead leaving him rotting in silence.
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A boot nudged Felis’s side, rolling him over, the disgusting squelch of dried fluid suddenly unsticking as Felis grunted at the light touch. The action immediately caught his attention. Humans were biologically social creatures, they needed to talk with one another to thrive. Eyes filled with hope he eagerly looked at the new person who’d come to see him.
“Not looking too good there.” The voice that came shattered his hope, instead filling him with deep dread.
“Al…?”
“The one and only.”
Dressed in a brown 3-piece suit with a beige undershirt and a loose tie was the man who’d made their lives a living hell, Albert Halls, or as most people called him, Al. He was different though, his skin had lost its color, now a greyish blue instead of the fair skin he had before. His fingers creaked with every movement, the many rings he wore hanging awkwardly about them. There was a chink in his neck too, a slight bend that was barely covered by the yellow scarf he liked to wear.
“I…I killed you.” Felis whispered.
“Yep!” The man grinned, crouching low, “And man did that hurt. I mean, look at this–” He tugged his scarf down, revealing the full extent of the crooked neck, and the many ugly holes that punctured through,”You broke my neck, and stabbed me man, talk about extra.”
“H…how?”
“You tell me. Could be a dream, might be you’re hallucinating in your final moments, I don’t know.”
“A…dream…” Felis mumbled. “Does that mea-”
“Hey, wanna know something funny?” Al interrupted, “I’m the dead one, but you still look worse than me! How’d that happen?”
Felis said nothing.
“Oh come on, little Pran, what’s the issue?”
“Don’t…call me…that.” Felis hissed.
“Why not~? Oh wait! Only Arun calls you that, right?” Al made a big gesture of looking about the house, “Where is he anyways?”
Felis said nothing, simply glaring at the Gangster’s face as his smile grew wider and wider.
“Oh…he isn’t here, is he?”
A dull throbbing wormed its way through Felis’s mind as he continued to glare at Al.
“Where did he go, little Pran? Where did Arun go?”
This was a dream, he was just under hypnosis, it would end.
It had to end.
Cold hands grabbed Felis’s face, forcing them to turn and face the dead man, “Where. Did. Arun. Go?”
“Mission.” He managed to wheeze, “He…mission.”
“Really? Is that why you’re here, lying down in a puddle of vomit and shit? Is that why?”
“Dream…Hypnosis.”
“Oh! A dream, is it? How long have you been here, in this ‘dream’? Hm?”
“I…I don’t know.”
The throbbing grew stronger.
“Why haven’t you woken up?”
Tears stung his eyes again, “I don’t know.”
“What happened, Pran? How’d you get here?”
“I…I was at a club-”
“Wrong!” Al almost screamed, “Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! How did you get here, Pran?”
“I…I went to Galac-”
“Wrong again! Tell me the truth, Pran. How’d you get here?”
“I die-”
“You died? Did you? Is that why you’re here? Is this death to you? Are you not breathing?”
The slight headache had turned into a pounding one, the pain making Felis unable to think straight.
“WHAT HAPPENED!?” Al roared, spittle flying into Felis’s face.
“I…Sinnoh and-”
“NO! How did you get here! Not Felis-” He sneered at the name “-but Pranav, how did you get here Pranav?”
“I…I killed you.”
“Yes!” Al leapt up with joy, dropping Pranav’s head as he clapped his hands and bounced around, “Yes Pranav! Yes! Bingo! A hundred–no–a thousand points! Ding Ding Ding! You–some shitty little drifter, ambushed me in the old factories!”
“Do…you want me…to apologize?” Felis bit out, “You…killed…mine…first”
“There it is.” Al smiled, though there was no real joy to it, “That fire, that pride. You and I, we were the same, you know? We know people. We know that everybody’s gonna do what’s best for them, we know that being kind is a luxury, that mercy is something our kind cannot afford. The two of us? Me and you? We’re the lions among wolves, little Pran. We saw those scavenging rats, and thought we could do something better.”
“Oh…I had it all, you know?” Al continued, wiping a tear from his eye, “Gold and jewels, hot baths, good food, fast cars, gorgeous women, handsome men. I had it all.” He turned to face Felis again, “Then tell me, what did you do again?”
Ambush. Under the guise of surrender he’d asked Al to meet him at the factories, rigging primitive explosives around the whole lot. They weren’t good, but they caused panic, leaving Al all alone for him to take the kill.
“You know what it was like? Drowning?” Al looked manic, hands idly rubbing at his broken neck, “While my lungs burned, and my mouth filled with irradiated water, while your knife found my throat, over and over and over again, while my eyes gazed upon your face, more animal than man, kill me?”
Of course he knew, Felis was with him the whole way. They weren’t supposed to fall, it was supposed to be a quick knife to the throat, and then he’d disappear. Al didn’t like that, grabbing him before he croaked, throwing them both off the metal scaffolding and into the irradiated vats of chemicals.
“Two went in, and one went out~” Al sang, twirling on the spot, “You happy with your choices, little Pran?” His smile turned into a sneer, “You happy, lying there, in your own shit ‘cause you’re too useless for anything else?”
“Shut…up.”
“Where’s Arun, little Pran? Where did he go?”
“Missi-”
“Nope!” He laughed, making a massive X with his arms, “0 points! Nada! Where did he go? Come one man, you know the answer, you know it! Stop blue balling me here.”
He…he was on a mission, right?
Slowly…painfully, his neck creaked to the front entrance of the house, finally noticing the footprints in the snow, moving away from the house.
“He…left…”
“Finally! Yes! Why did he leave?”
The headache was impossible, a pounding, like someone had taken a gong inside his head and rang it nonstop.
Al was dancing now, a wild, manic dance as he twirled and spun around Felis–no–Pranav’s useless body, chanting and singing all the way.
“He left because he couldn’t stand you! He left because he hated cleaning up after you! Feeding you, caring for you! You’re useless! You can’t fight, you can’t hunt, you can’t do anything for him!”
“Stop! Please, just stop!” Pranav begged. He was crying fully now, hot angry tears bubbling and streaming down his eyes as he pleaded for…whatever Al was to stop.
“Say it.” Al suddenly whispered, “Say it, and it all goes away, little Pran. I go away.” He flinched suddenly, like someone had suddenly pricked him, “No…” He snarled, looking out in the distance before turning his head back to him, “SAY IT! TELL ME! SPEAK THE WORDS PRANAV!”
Pranav was barely listening, his head swam with a mix of emotions and pain, he thought at first it was the abyss calling him again, but no, this was different, the emotions weren’t his, they were clawing their way inside though, reaching for him.
“SAY IT!” Al had lost his smile completely, replaced with fury as he grabbed Pranav by the sides and shook him, “SAY IT, DAMMIT! WHY DID ARUN LEAVE YOU!”
It was all too much, he just wanted it to end, he just wanted to rest.
“Because…” He sobbed, “Because I’m use-”
The dream ended.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aken watched his trainer twitch violently, negativity pouring out of him like water through a dam. Everything hurt, that bastard of a Beautifly had poisoned and stunned Aken, before letting the others thrash him around until he could barely move. “Training” they called it, laughing at his plight, all the while he watched helplessly as Pranav stayed locked within his nightmare.
If it was him even just a week ago, he would have gorged himself on the negativity, uncaring if the trainer ever woke up or not. But…he had grown to…care…just a little bit, enough to not want to see him hurt.
It had taken long to get himself to a point where he could float again. Scrounging on just a bit of the negativity that flowed, as well as the rotten and mushy Orans that people and Pokémon had left out to be eaten. Once strong enough he’d begun prodding and poking with Shadow Sneak, hoping the pain would wake him up. It wasn’t enough, causing him to only twitch more violently.
Aken frowned, the only option left was to up the scale of the attack. “You better be okay after this…” he grumbled, before shooting a stronger Shadow Sneak into Pranav’s arm.
He awoke with a yell, which instantly turned into a groan as the injuries of getting jumped flared. Aken closed in immediately, worry etched on his face as he regarded his trainer.
“Aken…” Pranav mumbled, “What did they do to you?”
The Shuppet did look incredibly worse for wear. One eye was shut, the silky cool cloth that made up its body was now dirty and ragged, even torn in some places.
“You ask me that?” Aken’s concern instantly twisted into anger, “You ask what happened to me!? What happened to you? Look at you! I have never felt negativity to this degree.”
Aken was a spirit! He could never truly die, he could be hurt and enter comatose, yes, but death was a choice for them, not an inevitability, not like this human who should have been worried for himself rather than him!
Pranav laughed, a harsh bark that had him coughing and spluttering seconds later, “A nightmare is all it was…” He whispered, “a nightmare.”
“You…you absolute foo-” Aken dipped suddenly, catching himself before he touched the ground, he looked away, ashamed. It appeared he hadn’t completely healed himself yet, the embarrassment.
“Oh…what did they do to you?” His trainer mumbled, reaching out and taking Aken into his arms. If he was a little bit stronger he would have protested a tad bit, but he was much too tired to argue.
And hugs felt good.
“Poison and stun…then they sicked their cowardly Pokémon on me.”
Pranav’s hands, which gently caressed the top of his head, froze, and he could feel the anger radiating off his trainer’s body, like a sauna on a cold winter’s day.
“I’ll kill them.” He hissed, “I’ll make them pay.”
That. That is what Aken respected about Pranav. Unbowed, unbroken. They beat his trainer half to death, locked him in a nightmare, and his first response was to plot revenge. The fury, the negativity, all controlled into something productive. Aken wanted to learn, needed to, it was too interesting not to.
“I’m sorry you’re with such a weak trainer.” Pranav mumbled, snapping Aken out of his thoughts.
What?
“I’ve had you for two days…and already you’ve been beaten to near death twice. At this pace, one of us is gonna bite the dust.” He ended in a chuckle.
“Useless? You think I would bother with a useless trainer?”
HIs fool of a trainer blinked, Aken wriggled out of the comforting hold to face the man eye-to-eye. “You are a fool, an idiot with terrible jokes. But you aren’t useless.”
“Thank-wh-hey!”
“We were ambushed by cowards! Cowards with powers we weren’t ready to face against! Does the cub face the king without their claws? No! But we didn’t bow, we didn’t bend to their whims, we didn’t break. They will rue the day they crossed us!”
Pranav could only stare with those big, stupid eyes of his, looking at him as if Aken had spoken some ancient language, or had told him the sky was pink.
“You aren’t useless.” Aken said again, this time softer, “You aren’t.”
An expression flickered through Pranav’s face, one he could barely recognize, before his usual smile locked into place. “Aw, buddy. Knew you loved me, come here!” Arms wide they embraced Aken who yelped with surprise, but, as usual, didn’t struggle too much.
They stayed for a few moments like that, in the cold alleyway with only the concrete and each other to keep them company, before Aken wiggled out once more, grabbing some of the leftover mushy Oran berries, and pushing them to his trainer.
“Eat.” He commanded.
“These ar-”
“EAT!”
Pranav moaned and complained as he always did, but listened anyway, gingerly eating the overripe leftover Orans with a scowl and a frown.
“Huh.” He said after a while, “I feel…better.”
“Of course you do, and now you don’t look like you’ve been mugged.”
“You save these for me, Aken?”
“...maybe.”
“Aren’t you a little bundle of joy, we really should have called you Casper, huh?”
“I am leaving!” Aken shouted, floating away before suddenly drooping again, “Oh…that…that’s not good.”
Gentle arms caught him, Pranav’s voice was soft, “You’ve been hurt too much these last couple days. Take a break, young man. Into the Pokeball.”
“No…it…I don’t like it.”
He hated it, he feared it. The symbol of his captivity, a prison with no escape.
“It’ll let you rest.” Pranav soothed, “And it won’t be for long, I swear to you.”
There were no falsehoods in his voice, only reassurances, only certainty.
“Ok…” Aken finally said, watching warily as Pranav produced a Pokeball from his belt. He was tired, he was hurt. Every part of his body was on fire, the energy that kept him alive barely able to hold his consciousness together. Maybe a rest would do him good.
The device clicked, and Aken squeezed his eyes shut as light washed over him, drawing him within.
It was pleasantly warm.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He was back at Galactic HQ.
Pranav kept his head low for most of it, depositing Aken to a very annoyed Delilah. He would have made a joke about Delilah not being delighted or something along those lines, but he was too angry.
Weak. Useless.
Aken had a point, he wasn’t strong enough, they weren’t strong enough in this new world. But that still pissed him off to great ends. If he wasn’t strong, he couldn’t protect Arun. If he wasn’t smart, he’d make mistakes, if he wasn’t cunning, he’d be unaware of the knives hidden beneath the smiles.
If he was useless, Arun wouldn’t need him.
The thought terrified him, shook him to his core. Even now, even though he could walk and talk, take care of himself, it still wasn’t enough. When he was at his physical peak the two could do anything. Now? He was a liability, a weakness.
And weaknesses were removed.
So he found himself at the Galactic Gym. Not like a Pokémon gym, but a gym gym. One to work out in, build muscle and endurance. Today was about testing himself, figuring out what his abilities were, where he needed to improve.
Everywhere, obviously, but it was good to know specifics.
He stared at the weights, but the soreness permeating throughout his whole body had him moving on. Just cardio today, then. That was fine, he’d work out properly with Arun later.
“I could do a 9mph, 10 minute run at my peak…” He mumbled to himself, pushing down at the buttons that started him off at a light walk, “6 then…I should be at 6 right now.”
6 miles per hour, absolutely abysmal in terms of physical ability, but it was a start. The fan whirred to life, he dialed in 6.
A minute in he had to lower the speed to 5.5
2 minutes in it lowered again to 5
3 minutes in it lowered a final time to 4.
Huffing and puffing, face masked and drenched with sweat, Pranav raged internally. 4!? 4 for a 6 foot tall human wasn’t even a jog, it was the fast walk you did when the light signal was counting down the numbers, the pace you walked when you were late to something, but didn’t want to run.
“Have I fallen so far?” He wondered, cursing as he almost slipped.
He was worse than useless in this state. He was incompetent. No wonder they got caught, he was holding Arun back again, letting him do the heavy lifting again, making him clean up after his messes, again.
Nothing changed. Being able to walk and talk had done nothing, he was nothing.
“Useless.” Al’s voice sang in his ear.
No.
NO.
His fingers trembled over the ‘9’ on the treadmill’s dial. He always ended runs in a one-minute sprint…he hadn’t even broken 4 minutes yet…but that was fine. He could do it, right? One minute. If he could do one minute…then he wouldn’t be useless.
“Am I scared?” He thought, feeling the uneasiness growing in his stomach, watching the way his fingers trembled “Fuck that. Don’t be a little bitch, Pranav. Do it, push the 9.”
His fingers reluctantly did as he asked, and the machine hummed with even more life as the treadmill began to move faster and faster. Pranav’s legs pumped as he recalled every technique about running he remembered. Even breathing, landing on the heels of your feet, keeping your elbows up. He ran through the list, pushing himself as hard as he could.
10 seconds.
His lungs were on fire, his breath came out in ragged gasps.
15 seconds.
“Come on!” He growled to himself, willing his legs to keep moving, “Come on!”
25 seconds.
He just had to keep moving. One minute, that’s all he needed.
35 seconds.
He felt himself falling behind, the edge of the treadmill reaching his heels.
38 seconds.
One more push, just one mo-
His legs gave out.
“FUCK!” He yelled, crashing shoulder first into the speeding treadmill, the track continued to move, rolling him over before sending him flying backwards, crashing into the wall with a dull thud, his head cracking into the wall where he slumped over.
Not even 40 seconds.
“Useless.” Al’s voice sang again, and Pranav didn’t have the heart to protest.
“Pran!” A voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he saw Arun, looking more than a little worse for wear stare down at him. Was he back from his mission? Why was he hurt?
The thoughts were banished as shame crept into him. There he was, Arun, his savior once again. Hands reached down to grab him but Pranav shoved them away.
“Get off’ome” He snarled, grabbing the edge of the wall to help himself up.
“The hell happened to you? Who hurt you?” Arun asked, concern and anger creeping into his voice.
No. If Arun helped him again it would just prove that he was incapable of doing things on his own.
“Nobody.” Pranav grumbled, moving to stop the machine. Arun’s powerful hand stopped him.
“Fuck that. Nobody? You look like you got jumped in a back alley.”
He would have laughed if he weren’t so angry.
“I said it’s nothing! ‘Sides, you look like you got hurt more than me.”
“No no, we are not switching the subject here. Who the hell hurt you?”
“Nobody I can’t handle, leave it.” Pranav said, trying to push past his brother again.
“For fuck’s sake, I am not in the mood.” Arun growled, pulling him back. “Who hit you?”
“Fucking nobodies is who, I told you, leave it.”
“You wanna know what I’ve been through tonight?” Arun snapped, “‘Basic mission’, they said, ‘go grab some Pokémon, come home’. Easy. I ended up fighting cultists Pran, in a burning forest! They had an honest to god Typhlosion, they could throw hands, they almost got me! So give me a break, and tell me what happened!”
Pran’s eyes were wide, anger giving way to concern as his gaze immediately flicked over his older brother’s body, scanning for injuries. He could see hints of fire and soot dusted onto his uniform, grey-black streaks that were painted across the white of his uniform. He fought what? Why?
“Why didn’t you retreat? You could have died!”
“For you!” Arun exploded, “Because if I got this done, you could be under less scrutiny, you’d be safer.”
And just like that, the anger returned.
“I didn’t ask you to go fucking around in the woods with fire cultists!” He snapped, “You don’t need to fucking baby me every step of the way!”
“Well clearly I do!” Arun said, jamming a finger into Pranav’s ribs, causing him to wince, “Look what happened to you!”
“Yea? Well take a look at yourself asshat, you look worse than me!”
“I had backup, you were probably doing that lone wolf shit you like to do.”
Backup?
“Who?”
“Quinn, like Saturn asked.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Probably would’ve died if it weren’t for him.”
“Hah.” Pranav scoffed. “So you didn’t even need me.”
“What?”
“I’m out man, going to bed.”
Arun blocked his exit, crossing his arms as he stared up at his little brother, “You didn’t answer my questions.”
This was getting real annoying.
“Get out of my way.”
“Make me.”
A tense moment of silence passed between them.
They moved at the same time.
Pranav, knowing he was weaker, immediately stepped backwards, planting his foot in place, spinning as he tried to land a calf kick against his brother. Arun raised his leg in a guard, blocking the hit before twisting his core, using the movement to drive the raised leg into Pranav's gut, sending him crashing back into the wall.
“You wanna talk now?” Arun asked, staring at his downed brother.
“See?” Pranav’s laugh was bitter, “You don’t need me, you haven’t needed me since the factory.”
Arun’s eyes softened as he sat down beside his little brother, “What happened, man? What’d they do to you?”
“Hypnosis. Locked me in a nightmare.”
“What’d you see?”
“The sickness.” Pranav whispered, as if speaking it aloud would bring it back, “Days, weeks, months, just trapped, stuck and useless.”
It was Arun’s turn to be shocked, staring at him in silence.
“I can’t…I can’t go through that again.” Pranav sobbed hysterically, “I can’t man. Everything hurts, every breath feels like I’m breathing shards of glass, I can’t talk to you without my throat bleeding, and the fucking abyss.” He paused, shuddering at the memories, “If…if something like that happens again, if I get hit with that sickness again. Just kill me, please. I don’t…I can’t do it again.”
“Don’t.”
“You don’t understand, Arun. Anything is better than that hell. Just make it quick, the way you usually do.”
“DON’T!” Arun screamed, causing his brother to flinch, “NEVER! And I mean, NEVER! Say that shit to me again, you hear me?”
“Wh-”
“Useless? I don’t need you? What the actual fuck do you think you’re talking about, kill you?”
Pranav stared at Arun in confusion. Arun rarely got worked up over these things, usually he’d handle it with stoicism, it was the first time in a long time he’d seen his brother get genuinely angry.
“I followed you into death!” He ranted, standing up now, pacing back and forth, “I died and followed you, and you want to talk about leaving me behind, again?”
Leaving him behind? What?
“You said Al’s group killed you.” Pranav accused, eyes narrowing in confusion.
“Oh for the love of-” Arun grabbed the Hem of his uniform, pulling it down, causing some of the fabric to tear. Below, barely visible from his already dark skin was a thin bruise, right over the heart, in between some of the ribs. “Look at this!”
“That’s…that’s a knife wound. They knifed you?”
“God, Pranav, you’re smarter than me, but so, so stupid sometimes. Think! I met you not 30 minutes after you woke up. Al’s leftovers had lost our trails months ago. How the hell did I reach you? How could I have reached you?”
The gears in Pranav’s brain turned, It was possible that Al’s group found them last second, but the way Arun phrased it meant it wasn’t them. Maybe it was a freak accident, but then why wouldn’t Arun just tell him? It was a secret so it meant it wasn’t supposed to hurt him. And a knife wound, Arun carried Pranav’s knife after he got sick…so that would mean…
“You…you killed yourself?” Pranav asked, staring up at him.
“Yes!”
“...Why?”
“Because you weren't there anymore! You’re all I had, all I have. I didn’t want to live in a world without you!”
“I-I’m sorry.” Pranav stuttered, staring down in shame.
The apology seemed to snap Arun out of his rage, and he sighed, his shoulders slumping as if a great weight was placed onto them. “It’s…it’s whatever man. Just…just don’t say that shit again, please. I need you in my life Pran, without you, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“I won’t, I’m sorry.”
Another sigh as his older brother ran another hand through his hair, “Get up. We’re doing some training.”
“Now?” Pranav asked, perplexed at the sudden shift.
“If you’re not gonna tell me who, then I better make sure you can at least fight. That low kick was terrible.”
“Asshole.”
“Stop whining and get up.” Arun said, already moving over to a bag hanging off to the side, “Lucky I’m even holding the bag for you.”
“Lucky my ass.” Pranav grumbled, rubbing the spot Arun had hit earlier before joining him, entering his favorite kickboxer stance.
“Left!” Arun barked.
His left foot flew, shin slamming weakly into the bag.
“Twist your core more, Left!”
This time it hit with a resounding thwack!
“Right!”
In the sleepy halls of Galactic HQ, the two brothers spent their night training against the sandbag, the repeated sounds of their blows echoing across the empty gym.
Considering all the shit that two had gone through that day…
This was nice.