3 years after the Fallout

Arun looked at the ruins of what used to be their old family home, the second floor was semi crushed, their parent’s old bedroom lost to rubble and debris. Snow gathered on their driveway, though luckily only a meter deep, annoying but manageable.

“We’re home.” He said, turning to his brother.

Pranav could only manage a rasping breath in response. His brother was strapped to a make-shift sled, wrapped in a number of blankets. Radiation sickness, it set in roughly 7 months ago, slowly crippling him. First it was a general weakness, something the two of them were worried about, but didn’t understand the true danger of. When Pranav could no longer walk, Arun grew anxious, when Pranav stopped talking, he became frantic. Every town they passed, every neighbourhood with a library was raided with zeal, flipping through a number of books to find something–anything he could use to offset the poisoning.

In the end, none of the knowledge he accumulated could offset the radiation that had set in, and Arun waited for the inevitable. 2 weeks was his brother’s supposed time limit, but then he lived to 3, then 4, then at 5 weeks he took it as a sign, a sign that somebody was watching over him, or that his brother still wanted to live.

He didn’t know if it would work, but he threw himself into religion, 5 times a day he prayed fervently, begging whatever higher power was up there to keep his brother alive. He couldn’t lose him, the thought of being alone scared Arun, shook him to his very core. The one companion he could wholly trust, the last of his family, gone. No, he’d do everything to keep him alive, whatever the cost.

He went to the front door, pushing on it to see if it was still locked. Yep. Sighing, he went back to the sled, hefting the rope around him, before dragging it towards the back gate. Reaching over the back and unclasping the lock, he stepped into the backyard, and marvelled at the site. How long had it been since he stepped into this place? It looked almost exactly how they’d left it, the only indicator of abandonment the large piles of snow built atop their things, and the various wildlife that decided to turn their belongings into shelter.

The back door was, of course, locked. That didn’t matter though, the two had figured out how to enter through the kitchen window when they were just boys. Before the fallout he found he was too bulky to wriggle through the window, but hey, starvation surprisingly made for a wonderful weight loss program, and he climbed through with ease.

After bringing his brother into the house he stared at his old home. Surprisingly, it was untouched, though he didn’t understand how, most of everyone in North America fled North to get away from the fallout. Yet here it was, untouched, the same way they had left it all that time ago, before their parents went to Thunder Bay, and they to the inner city.

A fit of wet coughs sputtered out from his brother, and he spun, immediately rushing to his side. Droplets of blood and phlegm coated his mouth, dribbling down his chin. He grabbed the baby wipes in his bag, carefully cleaning away the mess, Pranav’s vacant expression staring at him all the while. After he finished, Arun pulled out his flask, tipping it into his brother’s mouth, making sure he swallowed slowly.

Arun learned a lot from his various raids, but he was by no means a medical professional. He had no idea what was really affecting him, nor how to treat it. Originally he forced his brother to take potassium pills, he had read somewhere that it supposedly protected against radiation, but as his condition got worse and worse, he’d only end up spitting them back out. He guessed something was wrong with his lungs, nobody simply coughed up blood for no reason, but despite all the libraries he raided, all the medical books he flipped through, nothing short of hospital equipment would save him. Hospitals were the first places he checked of course, but the ones he knew of, they were all damaged, broken down and looted.

Arun stood, laying down a blanket to begin his prayer as a rush of memories entered his mind. He spent a few minutes like this, organising his thoughts. Often when he felt overwhelmed (And for a 23, almost 24 year old man in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, was at least twice a day) he would pray and meditate. It helped him clear his head, sorting tasks into what would be the most beneficial, while filing away all the doubts that nagged him for a later time. After finally opening his eyes again, he looked to the left of the living room, where the entrance to the basement, as well as where they kept all their non-perishable food was.

“All right.” He finally said, “Let’s make some dinner.”

That night, after Arun explored the ruins of their house, he began cooking spaghetti for himself, and tomato soup for his brother using the gas stove he found stashed away in their shed. In retrospect, having an open gas flame in one's home was probably a bad idea, but he figured it couldn’t be worse than everything else they had to deal with.

“...ugh, Arun?” his brother mumbled

“Hey, you good?” He asked

“Yea…happy days over here man.” Pranav gave a weak smile and a thumbs up.

Arun smiled back, before going back to the spaghetti, turning it as it boiled. He looked at the clock, 8:53PM. It’s getting worse, he thought. For one reason or another, Pranav became more lucid during the night, enough to understand what he was saying. His lucidity used to arrive at sunset, lasting until just before sunrise. Now though, it arrived later and later everyday, and he’d be lucky if his brother even lasted an hour.

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“I uh…I taste blood.” Pranav croaked “Did I…was I coughing again?”

Arun froze, unsure what to say “Yea…yea but don’t worry, I got it.”

“Shit, man. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I got you.”

They lapsed into silence, the sound of bubbling pasta and canned soup filling the room.

“So what’s for dinner?” His brother asked.

“Spaghetti for me, tomato soup for you.”

Pranav instantly groaned “Man I hate radiation.”

He chuckled, before finally turning off the stove. He sat beside his brother, taking time to feed the two of them. It was a simple process, he’d take a fork of spaghetti, then he’d make Pranav down a spoonful of tomato soup, the little shit complaining every time, but never outright refusing him.

He settled back with a sigh, two empty bowls clinked beside him. With the amount of food they had, he figured they could camp for at least a month, during that time Arun would see if any other hospitals existed nearby, ones hopefully still intact.

“Hey.” His brother’s rasping voice took him out of his thoughts “Where are we?”

He doesn’t recognize our home, Arun thought mournfully. “We’re home, Pran. Look, there’s the family photo.” He said, pointing to a portrait hanging beside their tv.

“Oh...”

“Hey–look what I found.” Arun pulled out a little handheld device, shining a metallic red. “It’s our 3ds man, remember this?”

Upon landing on the device, Pranav’s eyes sparkled “Does it still have Pokémon in it?”

Arun grinned, flipping open the device and opening the Platinum save they installed years ago. Back when the two were in highschool, they had finished the game up until the Elite 4, promising that they would finish it together. Time had other plans of course, but now? The music kicked in as their game faded into existence, digital trumpets and synths causing the two brothers to lean in closer to that tiny little screen. Opening up their party, they saw their old team; Infernape, Garchomp, Crobat, Luxray, Lucario, and Bibarel. Before the fallout, Pranav had been adamant about taking their Bidoof straight to the championships because it almost destroyed their Chimchar. Arun agreed just for the hell of it, and now it acted as their strongest tank and wallbreaker.

Maybe it was because they were older, but the elite four wasn’t as strong as Arun remembered them being. Well, they also had an ungodly amount of healing items, but for the most part, tactical switching and straight power was all it took to bring them low. One by one they fell, the mighty Elite Four brought down by the strongest technique the two knew would bring them their surefire win; The strong move spam. After Lucian was finally defeated, and their Pokémon were healed up, Arun readied himself for Cynthia.

“Hey man, it’s the final fight, you ready?” He asked

No answer, Arun turned, his brother’s eyes had all but lost the light of focus, Pranav was fighting to stay lucid, drifting between being consciousness and comatose. A strained smile touched his face, and he nodded towards Arun, asking him to continue. He considered turning off the game then, to wait for the next night and finish, but seeing the look in his eyes…Arun was compelled to listen. Their final fight began, Cynthia’s theme causing goosebumps to rise in his skin as her Spiritomb was sent out first. In response, they sent in their ultimate counter, Bibarel, and the battle began in earnest. Back and forth the two sides went, each finding ways to overpower the other. Her Garchomp had done the brunt of the damage, laying low their entire team save Infernape. She had used her full restore already, and her Garchomp was on its last legs, this was it.

“Close Combat!” He couldn’t help himself, he yelled out the move, slamming the A button with a flourish, Cynthia’s Garchomp, a demon disguised as a dragon, finally fell. Walking to the trophy room, he cemented himself and the team in the hall of fame. “League Champion!” it read, their Pokémon displayed proudly for all to see. He turned to his brother, a smile on his face, then his world shook.

Pranav's eyes stared at him blankly, he seemed oddly at peace, like a great burden had been lifted off his shoulders. A light smile brushed his lips, and at a first glance, he appeared to have relapsed into his comatose state. But there was no life in those eyes, his chest had stopped their soft rise and fall, he wasn’t breathing.

“Pran?”

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When Pranav awoke, it was as if a massive fog was lifted away from his mind. For 7 months, he spent his days strapped to a sled, unable to properly speak, to move, to think. He thought it akin to being stuck underwater, an endless ocean of nothingness around him, and it took all of his mental power to stay afloat. Yet no matter how hard he struggled, it always ended the same, he’d sink. Deeper and deeper into the abyss, the world became a blur, a crock pot of muted senses and pain.

He took his first breath, a heavy gasp sucking in fresh cool air. He groaned, his fingers moving to massage his temples as the remnants of a fleeting migraine lingered in his head. He felt the morning dew of the grass around him soak into his clothes, his skin, his–-wait. He could move? His eyes finally opened, taking in the scene around him.

He was in a forest, the first morning rays causing the grass to shine with almost ethereal light. Trees swayed in the cool air, their soft whispers wafting through the wind. Ahead there was a small lake, a river fed into it leading deeper into the forest. It’s a picturesque fantasy forest. He thought to himself.

Right…he could think too. The threat of the abyss taking him was gone, his head no longer hurt. He breathed in the fresh air, it didn’t burn his nostrils. He flexed and stretched his fingers, his arms, his legs, savouring the feeling of movement, of control.

“H-hello?” He said to no one in particular, simply testing his voice. It was clear, strong, just how he remembered it being. Not the rasping, scratched voice of his he had come loathe over the months.

Tentatively he stood up, wobbling as his body tried to remember what it was like to move. He collapsed on himself several times, but after a few dozen attempts (and a few hundred curses) he took his first few steps again. “My boots are missing” he mused aloud, though he didn’t really care. The feeling of wet grass between his toes had him giddy. He stared ahead, the lake was in pristine condition, the forest was clear, beckoning him.

Pranav broke into a sprint, running as fast as he could, he could feel the adrenaline kicking in, pushing his body to go faster. His lungs began to hurt, his legs began to ache, but it wasn’t like before, it was because he was moving. I can move! He thought, ecstatic. I can breathe! I can think!

“I CAN FUCKING SPEAK!” He hollered, his voice breaking into a fit of gasping laughs.

With a woop he lept into the lake, cool water washing over him, strange orange fish scattering as he barged into their home. He swam up, breaking the surface and rolling back onto the shore, fighting for breath.

“Oof?”

Pranav turned to the source of the sound, where beside him the most curious thing he had ever seen watched him with equal interest. It was a round, squat thing, thick fur covering its body and face like a little mane. It sported two large buck teeth which would have been almost intimidating, if not for the overall cuteness of the little thing. Pranav stared at it for a while longer, before it finally clicked.

Is that a fucking Bidoof?