~~~ Chapter 68 - V ~~~

Without Macie awake and constantly talking, and without leaves to work on, taking a moment to attempt a rest seemed ideal, but I just couldn't. Already didn't need much sleep, for one. And for two, even if I was especially tired, it was time to take a break from forcing myself into the dream-realms. They were going to have to wait for a bit.

Surfing the twilight realm between being awake and asleep was something I was going to need to practice. And, it would be best to avoid accidentally portaling yourself into a nightmare realm.

After carefully putting the necklace of leaves I had been making around her head, I wandered to the window, and the sun had apparently risen just enough that it wasn't really peeking through any more. Still, the faint smell of smoke in the air, I wasn't about to leave her side.

I moved to go out and grab some more leaves. The little projects would be small and I'd make sure that they didn't damage her clothing. Using a bit of sticky silk on the door handle and a touch of leverage, I managed to twist the door open with only a very quiet click.

A pile of leaves in my arm, I chose to dump them on the hardwood floor, and, after shutting the back door— again, silently— got to work making my next thing for her. Leaving her inside, alone? I couldn't. Not with that scent of smoke in the air, anyway. So, instead, the correct thing to do, the obvious thing to do, was to craft. I thought about making a dress for her, out of leaves, but instead settled on a blanket.

We'd have to leave the house and go to other bushes and trees to make a whole dress. We could do that when she woke up.

~~~

"Leah knows what you're saying. Look, it's not that strange for fully-evolved pokemon to get you. But a fully-evolved starter? I know you've been around a lot of legendaries and gods. I've been wrong before. I'll be wrong again, but that's a heavy soul, kid."

"I know. The pokedex doesn't say that Leavanny can learn to understand our speech? And she's such a temperamental and incendiary personality."

Art turned his head.

"Have you had pain meds recently? Or did the doctors talk about bond-break to you?" Lyra asked.

"No."

"Either? Or both?" Lyra asked.

"Either. No one's talked about it. The radio just said it was about humans being sad about not being around their pokemon. But it's whatever," he said, waving his left— uninjured —arm dismissively. "My problems are probably because I only have a second-gen Unova dex anyway." he huffed.

If Jacob's kid was as big of a fan of Leah as the man had made her out to be, then he could at least take some hope that Leah would be fine.

"Seriously though, shit's weird, Burgh. You've only been separated for six hours,"

"Eight."

"Eight hours? Crap on a stick, that changes everything," she said, rolling her eyes. "No, it doesn't. This stuff shouldn't hit you for fucking days. You sure she's not, like, Mew pretending to be a Leavanny?"

"Well, no, not really—"

He wasn't sure of anything related to Leah, if he was honest. Except how she had a surprising number of gods constantly appearing in her vicinity. Like a magnet. Or a cutiefly to —the image of the donut shop — sugar.

He didn't really want to follow that. What annoyed him most, was how Leah wasn't with him. Why he was really in the hospital?

"Did you see the electrical storm?" he asked. He wouldn't have been in the hospital if the fight had been stopped.

She rubbed her temples. "Yes, and I know where you're going. I didn't interfere. I don't get involved with them any more."

"You have Ho-Oh and Meg and you—"

"Stop. Stop right there, okay? I'm not going to explain it. You won't understand."

Art raised his eyes up at her, looking at her, standing across from him, leaning against the hospital room's wall.

"Try me," he said, his annoyance at not just her, but the world boiling to the surface.

"We don't have all day for me to explain shit," Lyra said.

"Hum, let me check my schedule," He said, flipping open his phone. "Oh, looks like I'm due for a check-up in eight hours—"

"Jesus fuck, kid," — His face didn't change as he looked at her, as Lyra went silent. Jesus? Must be a Johto thing. Lyra pulled out a cigarette — gripping the box and shoving it back into her pocket "We're in the fucking hospital," she muttered to herself.

He grinned to himself. Seeing Lyra on edge helped shove some of his own anxieties aside. The professor was a hardass- outwardly a marshmallow, but a jawbreaker the more you learned. Lyra was a far more comfortable personality. Less likely to throw you to the dogs.

At least her face always showed her feelings. The less he saw of the professor, the better.

Her lips curled into a smirk and he returned to the hospital room.

"So."

She held up her hand. "First thing's first, kid. Do not judge me."

"Wha—" started to say, before she cut him off.

"You still have that Looker's phone number?"

"Yeah." Of course he remembered them. That was only a few days ago. Leah had pounced on a Looker.

How was she doing? He'd wondered- remembering the first time they'd stayed at the gym and she and fidget had found their way into the showers.

He forgot to warn them of the psychedelic. And of Lyra's anxiety around predators. And pokecenters. And dear gods he'd somehow thought it was a good idea to leave her with a stranger he'd never met, with a kid that adored her, to say nothing of the "accidents" that generally happen in her vicinity with minor deities.

A red claw put its hand on Lyra's shoulder, stalling any rants she had about Lookers, the zoroark duo emerged from their illusion. Lyra took a breath of her own, using the break to think things through and let the emotion out.

"Sorry."

"You're not thinking about anyone but your pokemon. Including why she's not in this room with us right now. You're in the earliest phase of a bond-break. A particularly bad one."

"Yeah," he said. She was right. He wanted to that this kind of worry was normal. People fretted about their kids all the time, didn't they?

"Don't go it alone, okay?" she said.

It didn't make sense. But for him, it didn't matter. There were hundreds of people in the hospitals or just injured, because of a battle that should never have happened.

"I don't expect you to get it."

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"And I don't. Just forget about it." He hadn't really been concerned with Lyra's answer anyway.

"You said Leah can understand humans, no?"

"Yeah," he said. "Still need to call her," he muttered under his breath.

"Good. Now, think of all the questions you can ask her and get her to answer them."

"I've been doing that, damn it," he said, getting terse.

Lyra frowned. He'd hit a sore spot for her, and now she'd done the same. They'd both seen what happened if you tried to bear the world on your shoulders. "Fair, Burgh. Very, very fair. But, I just had a thought that—" she said, pausing. Letting him pique up in curiosity.

"What?"

"A mediator."

"I can read Leah's cues, I don't need a mediator."

"Not a fucking pokemon whisperer, numbnuts, like a psychic."

"Like Dawn? She was unhinged."

Was she back yet?

"Fuck no. Not like Dawn. I don't recommend anyone—" she paused for a half-beat, clearly choosing her next words, in a way she tended not to "—who is that uptight. They can't form a healthy level of attachment between herself and her goals."

It would be nice if someone could talk to Leah and give them answers, but as nice as it would be to actually have someone talking for Leah… he wondered. He didn't say anything. The drugs in his system had slowed his thoughts considerably.

Burgh's face didn't change expression, but Lyra's shifted, slowly inching toward a grin, not quite making it there. Even amidst the fugue and mental haze, the motion was threatening nonetheless.

"There's a few psychics who owe me favors. Ones that I know won't get feedback and wind up acting like a bug after a session."

"No, I'm not doing that. She's already on edge. And I don't have the money to pay them."

He was a bit worried that the pokemon care at the hospital wouldn't exactly be free, either. With the gym stipend, the basic income stipend, and possibly a small-time sponsorship after getting an extra badge or two, he should be fine.

"That's fine, mope-urgh," Lyra said, the terrible joke eliciting a painful groan out of Art.

"Anyway, I'm gonna go. Got a moth in one of these pokeballs with a bit of fight-brain. Don't worry, I'll get Fidget in here to help take some of the edge off of Leah being gone."

"And what do I do if a doctor comes in?"

"One of my zoroark friends here will be content to hide them if the doctors come in. Won't you?" Lyra said.

The zoroark both looked at each other, before one of them nodded. Later, when the drugs faded, he'd realize he'd forgotten some key questions to ask Lyra. Such as why she had thought leaving him and Fidget alone with a zoroark was a good idea.

Later he would realize he could have just asked. Zoroark illusions weren't just visual, after all.

~~~

Jacob landed in his backyard, the papers still in hand. He noticed the two trees and bushes were, in fact, missing a slew of leaves. He sighed, going through his usual mental routines for managing the stress of the situation, letting Arn out of his ball, and left the two of them to hang out on their preferred perches. The trail of leaves to the doorstep was easy to follow.

There was no slight hum inside from the television, no chatter. His heart was beating fast, he could basically hear it. Again, he took a breath and paused. It was too soon to jump to conclusions. They'd had that "negotiation" in a far too-public place, and the suit was far, far too confident— and creepy, the way salesmen and conmen always were.

Jacob pulled out his phone, and opened up his bank account. It was rare that much money moved through an account so directly, he knew, however, once the shock of the situation had fully faded and he realized there was something amiss, insisting on getting it all liquid right away was effectively his only protection, so he played some more hardball.

No stock, no equity, nothing ethereal. He wanted that money direct. The taxes on the trade would be a bitch. So, too, navigating the international taxes and funds transfers into Kalos would be a bitch, but it was the only sane thing he could think of, by the time he'd negotiated himself into a corner. How, exactly those papers, the mistakes he'd just made would come back to haunt him, he wasn't quite sure.

The money wasn't showing as in his account yet, he was still in the financial twilight zone.

He was being had, and minimizing any chances of getting the rug pulled at the last second was his only option. The suit, at the end of the conversation, but before he'd signed, had tried to get Jacob to back down into stock offers, bonds, and even a land valuation.

No, Jacob wasn't a moron, he'd kept his foot down, and for that, there was the slightest hint of pride. It was chump change, and he was under no illusion that the megacorp was strapped for cash.

He closed the app and reopened it, then shoved it into his pocket in frustration when it wasn't showing up yet. He grabbed the door handle— and was greeted by a sticky feeling. Like peeling scotch tape off a cardboard box, he peeled his hand off the handle, the smooth slap of skin as his hand peeled off it ringing in his ear.

His phone dinged.

He pulled his hand off the doorknob, rubbing off the residue, rolling the white stuff that was stuck to his palm around like a kid rolls a piece of dough they were going to make into a cookie. He dropped the little pellet of silk to the ground. Then, he closed his eyes and pinched his nose.

His fingers were still sticky. Again, he rubbed the stuff off, this time mixing in some dirt he picked up off the ground. He checked his hands again, and this time, the adhesive silk was gone. Rubbing his hands together to get some of the dust off, then patting them on his jeans, he checked his phone.

It was a notification from his bank app about a large deposit incoming. He sighed in relief, and—yep, the expected money was there. No multi-installments, no bullshit. The money still had to clear, of course. That would only take a few hours before it was accessible for use.

The ball would be in his court by the time it did. He'd have to talk to his two dragons before they actually set out to do anything. Jacob had a full team, of course, and noivern didn't stay in the noibat colonies, being more territorial and all, Arn and Orn would probably have a problem with the operation, but they did need to be properly on board.

Even if a pokemon wasn't capable of fully understanding, trainers who made a habit of regularly talking to their pokemon about the plan and strategy tended to do better.

If the communication amounted to a trainer's pokemon silently looking at the trainer and giving the occasional chirp, it was generally considered good luck. Also helped trainers have a clear head and think through the scenarios in more full detail.

Again, he sighed, looking around the back yard. His hearing was quite good, and if she was active and moving about, he'd locate her, but the leavanny and its pokeball were nowhere to be found.

Not that he was altogether surprised the pokemon was inside the house. Macie knew better than to let stray or unfamiliar pokemon in, and he'd drilled her on some of the basics of pokemon care, but he was unsurprised that she'd likely ignored the rules or found a creative loophole.

The house wasn't burned down, at least, though he had been a little worried, when he left the cafe and noticed the smoke. No, what really weighed on his mind was Macie.

He wouldn't tell her what he was going to do, of course, pending the company immediately depositing the full and final sum, as agreed. But she would need to know they were moving sooner than later. It could all go fine, silently. He'd do his job, get in, get out, and then fuck off to Kalos. Still, the whole situation reeked.

Again, Jacob opened the back door of the house, and was immediately greeted with the sight of glitter. His hand coming off the doorknob with that peeling and pop from the silk that had remained. The floor sparkled, the main pile on the dining room table.

Leaves littered the area and the chairs as well.

Again, he held a hand up to his eyes and rubbed, sighing. The house was silent, a half-beat of his heart and fear dropped in his gut for a split-second of all the horrible things that could have happened to his daughter while he was gone, but he held his breath. It wasn't exactly difficult to follow the trail of his little micro-demon.

A small trail led to her room. Ignoring the mess, he stepped in, a small purple bead crunching under his boot, lodging into it, giving a crunch as he stepped, briskly, to his daughter's room. He held his ear to the doorway. Silence. A slight rustling sounded from the living room, and a slight shadow passed.

He turned around, greeted by the sight of the leavanny in front of him. Still holding her arms up, as some did making threat displays, as if to say "I'm bigger than I look!" He stood there, and stared her down, before she relaxed, and let them down. She moved a leaf arm over her mouth, as if to tell him to keep quiet, before turning around and heading back.

Despite the mess in the house and the stress from maintaining both the gym and relations with corporate sales drones, at that moment, the stress melted off, a smile creeping up his face. He should have known she'd be fine. Walking back into the kitchen, her pokeball was sitting on the counter, attached to a spatula by silk. The leavanny had led him to Macie, where he saw her sleeping on the couch.

As much as Macie loved this particular pokemon, seeing the house in the mess it was, the playdate was over. She'd need to learn not to make messes of this magnitude. Why he had agreed to take the leavanny, when he had known Macie would either hurt herself on it or bring the state of the house to its knees, was a mystery to him. She was seven.

Not long ago, a ten year old would have been enough to own their own pokemon for use in the trainer circuit. Seeing the house covered in so much glitter, it was apparent that ten year olds really probably weren't mature enough for that kind of responsibility.

He picked Macie up off the couch. A small blanket made of leaves fell off her. Specks of purple glinted, many falling to the ground as he carried her off to bed. With the leavanny gone, she'd be mad at him later, but she knew better than to make the mess she'd made.

Leaving her room, and silently closing the door, he found the pokeball on the counter, and grabbed it, immediately getting the leavanny's undivided attention. Then activated it, sucking her back in. He set the ball back on the counter, the spatula still attached to the silk keeping it from rolling off.

Peeling apart the pokeball from the spatula, then rubbing some of the silk off the pokeball, he attached the leavanny in the pokeball to his belt and went back outside, his boot still crunching from the purple beads he had stepped on that embedded themselves in it.

Closing the back door of the house, Jacob stepped back out. Then, he thought for a second, and decided to leave it open. Given how late Macie had stayed up, it would be a few hours of sleep. He'd be back home in time to catch the worst of it, but just in case…

"Orn, you're on guard duty," he said. Then paused. "She's… not gonna be happy when she gets up," he muttered. "Arn, we're going to the hospital."

~~~