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Chapter Text

            Porygon-Z expertly buzzed around the field, dodging every move thrown at zir. Not even the enemy’s Croagunk could land hits. Surly we could defeat all of these grunts before they had time to detonate their bomb.

            Porygon-Z looked back, only needing to make eye contact with me to know what I wanted. One powerful Discharge later, and the grunts who had been triple-teaming me were out cold.

            The scream in agony was familiar. I had become quite the nuisance to Team Galactic. A few of the grunts had told me that they were even promised a promotion if they could defeat me. All that did was fill my ego.

            Shoving them aside, I continued my way towards Lake Valor. The grunts didn’t even bother stopping me. This tells me I’ve already won. If they’re too scared to give me everything they’ve got on D-Day, well, they’ve already lost.

            Approaching the lake, I see a commander standing at its edge, surrounded by grunts. They’re busy speaking to one another –presumably about me– and trying to make sure everything is going according to plan. The commander was just standing there, calm as ever.

            I haven’t met this commander, yet. I’ve met Mars, Charon, Jupiter, and even their leader, Cyrus.

            Interesting.

            “Alright, Team Galactic. Time to give up.” Okay, so maybe not my most heroic phrasing. It grabbed their attention, though, so it works for me.

            The grunts form a barrier in front of their commander, each giving me a glare that was most certainly forced. I figure they’re higher ranking grunts if they’re hanging with the commander, but they’re scared of me. I just know it.

            The commander turns around. He has such an indifferent air about him. It’s like he couldn’t even be bothered with me right now.

            “Relax, I’ve got this all under control,” he soothes to the grunts.

            They visually relax, letting their commander past their throng.

            If they think their commander is going defeat me, they have another thing coming. I can’t wait to wipe those looks off their faces.

            He gives me a lookover, and I have half the mind to send Infernape on him for it.

            “I recognize you,” he muses in a voice so smooth and uncaring. I hate it. “Mars should be ashamed of herself for letting a child ruin her simple task at the windworks. Pathetic, really.” He starts pacing around, not even bothering to look at me.

            I was quite offended by the child comment. I may look young, but I’m eighteen. There’s no way a child could be tasked with defeating Team Galactic.

            “Jupiter, too. Letting you,” he finally looked at me, “raid our Eterna City base. Arceus, it’s like she wanted you to make a hero out of yourself. I guess that’s what puts me above the rest. I don’t care to make you a hero. I only care about furthering the goals of Team Galactic, and anyone opposed to that must be crushed. Opposition will not be tolerated.” It’s strange he’s yet to introduce himself. Mars, Jupiter, and Charon couldn’t wait to tell me who they were. Maybe he doesn’t even care who he is.

            Finally, he grabbed for a poké ball. I thought his speech was never going to end.

            The Golbat he releases hisses at me, but I don’t budge an inch. I figured he would start with some poison type. Most of them do.

            I send out Porygon-Z once more. In one Psybeam the bat pokémon falls.

            The commander simply recalls the fallen pokémon like it’s nothing. When he sends out his Bronzong, and the same result ensues, he does the same thing. It’s like he’s not even trying to actually battle me.

            “As expected,” he mumbles, looking at the final poké ball in his hands.

            With a toss, a Toxicroak appears in front of me.

            Porygon-Z makes eye contact with me, then goes for a Psybeam. A poison fighting type surly can’t withstand that.

            I was wrong, though. His Toxicroak was terrifyingly fast. With one swift Brick Break, Porygon-Z is out.        

            I figured it was no big deal.

            Garchomp would be able to take care of this.

            Releasing the sand dragon, she gives a loud snarl to the enemy.

            The commander appears unfazed.

            “Poison Jab.”

            Maybe he wasn’t as smart as he was making himself out to be.

            I had kind of hoped that he would put of something of a challenge. He looked like he was high ranking, and the way he talked about the other commanders made me think that he was either above them, or compensating for something.

            I was, originally, leaning towards the former.

            “Earthquake!”

            Slamming her foot on the ground, Garchomp roared as the earth trembled. Some of the Galactic grunts fell to their feet, but their commander stood tall.

            Toxicroak, however, was out before it could even attack.

            I looked to my pokémon, confirming our victory, but when I looked back to the commander, he wasn’t there.

            He reappeared in front of me, an Alakazam at his side. Snatching my hand, he finally broke from that mellow persona. “I knew I wasn’t going to defeat you. I would have been a fool to think otherwise. But you know what I can do?”

            I said nothing. I didn’t want to give any signs of fear. I wasn’t scared of someone I backed into a corner. He’s just desperate.

            “I can take you out of the picture.”

            The last thing I heard before leaving the lake was a chorus of grunts laughing.

            Teleportation had always made me feel horrendously sick. Teleporting with the commander and his Alakazam was no different.

            The place we ended up was dark. I could barely see the commander that was standing too close to me.

            He tosses me back against a wall. I scream only because I was surprised by the wall. I’m not scared of Team Galactic. I’m not scared of this nameless commander.

            I’m not scared.

            “Tell me, how did you enjoy your run as a hero?”

            I stay quiet, if only to let him monologue. I needed to find out his name.  
            I’m not scared.

            “Was it fun to needlessly ruin all of Team Galactic’s plans?”

            I’m not scared.

            “Well, I assume you did find it fun considering you kept doing it.” His voice echoes around me, bouncing off the metal walls.

            I’m not scared.

            “However, I think I shall take the pleasure of telling you that you didn’t actually ruin our plans. You may have set us back a bit, but you haven’t put us out of commission.”

            I can sense him getting closer to me.

            I’m not scared.

            “The windworks? We got all the energy we needed.” His breath is hitting my face. If I even move a bit I know I’ll be touching him. The thought disgusts me.  

            “Jupiter may not have gotten that old fool’s pokémon, but that was a cover. We still have everything we needed from Eterna.”

            He grabs my arm, causing me to flinch.

            When I try to pull away, he grips harder, and I fear I’ll lose circulation to my hand.

            I’m not scared.

            “And now, the lake pokémon are ours. You failed.”    

            I’m not scared.

            “You tried to ruin us, but now it’s my turn to ruin you.”

            I’m not scared.

            I’m not scared.

            I’m not scared.

            I’m not scared.

            I’m not scared.

            I’m absolutely terrified.

Chapter Text

            For nearly two days, I didn’t sleep.

            The commander who’s name I had yet to learn left me in the dark room he had initially taken me to.  The second he left me alone, I took to assessing my surroundings.

            After allowing time for my eyes to adjust to the dark, I could just barely make out my surroundings.  A small holding cell that's maybe only a few feet wide and deep, in the back of what I’m assuming is a basement based on the lack of cell signal on my pokétch.  Boxes stacked up outside the chain-link fence than ran from the floor to the ceiling, all thick with the smell of mothballs and age.

            I reached for my bag out of habit, but the commander had taken it with him.  I was alone completely.  No pokémon, and I would eventually find out that nobody was around.  Wherever this basement was, nobody came through it. 

            The first night was easy enough.  Still pumped full of adrenaline, sleep refused me.  I listened intently for anything that could aid me.  Not even a distant rumble to indicate foot traffic.  The only sound that greeted me was the soft air conditioning, along with my heartbeat and breathing that felt deafening in my own ears.

            The second night was worse. 

            Hunger and the need for a restroom had taken hold of me, and the metal and concrete walls all sucked the heat from me.   I had already missed all my pokémon, but as I struggled to keep myself awake, I missed Infernape more than ever. The air had grown cold and damp, the heady smell of mildew permeating the air around me. 

            Huddled in the corner of the cell, fear of the commander showing up again was the only thing that kept me from falling asleep…

            Time is irrelevant to me at this point.  My Pokétch vibrates against my wrist now and again, alerting me it needs to be charged.  It was already low on power when I stormed Lake Valor, and I didn’t think to set it to a low power setting until it was nearly dead.  Soon enough I might not have to worry about time altogether. 

            The me from only a few days ago would have been mortified to even have this thought, but I can’t help but contemplate giving up.  Allowing myself to lay on the floor and just succumb to my inevitable death.  Let the concrete floor suck the last of my body heat, listening to the deafening sound of my heartbeat. 

            Thump.

            The commander had said he was going to ruin me.  By that he must have meant let me starve in some basement.

            Thump.

            I wasn’t exactly sure what he had meant when he said it, but somehow I had imagined it being far more gruesome and physical.

            Thump.

            The thought of dying alone without getting to say goodbye to anyone brings a sting to my eyes, but tears refuse to form due to how dehydrated I am. 

            I barely had time to say goodbye to Barry and Lucas when we parted ways from the Canalave Library.  The three of us were in such a hurry to save the day, I can’t even remember if I looked either of them in the eye.

            Thump.

            I haven’t even seen my mother since she came to one of my contests last month. 

            Thump.

            I wish I had hugged her tighter. 

            Thump.

            Thump..

            Thump…

            Just as the very edges of my vision darken and I threaten to pass out, the distant sound of a door slamming jolts me out of my stupor. 

            Sitting up with my back against the wall, I feel a renewed fire under my skin.  It’s a weak fire, but a reminder that I’m still alive, and that somewhere there is fight left within me.

            The footsteps are soft in their approach, gradually getting louder, and I can make out the sound of something being repetitively tossed up and caught again. 

            The second the person comes into view, I feel myself shrink back against the wall, bile rising in the back of my throat. 

            The nameless commander, this time, dressed more casually.  Instead of the Galactic garb I initially saw him in, he wears a sweater that I can make out to be blue in the dim lighting, and dark wash jeans. 

            Even from the back of the cell, I can smell the spices of his cologne, along with something sweet and bready, as if he just stepped out of a bakery somewhere. 

            My stomach growls in response, prompting me to slam my arm over it.   

            “Aren’t you having the time of your life?” he asks me. 

            I say nothing, choosing only to scowl at him, if only because my mouth is so dry it feels like I’ve swallowed a wad of cotton.

            He tosses up a standard poké ball, leaning up against the chain barrier.  “Tell me, how hungry are you?” he asks. 

            I still refuse to answer him.  I’m not about to give him the satisfaction.

            He turns his gaze to the poké ball, watching it move with every casual toss.  “You know, it’s fascinating.  The last two days we’ve been studying your pokémon closely; trying to figure out what –if anything– makes them so powerful.”

            My heart leaps into my throat, and I must have made a sound without realizing, because he turns to look at me, the look in his eyes like a predator who caught their prey. 

            “And not one of your pokémon were abnormal in the least.  Infernape, Garchomp, Staraptor– none of them.  Completely average in every way.”  He shrugs, returning his attention to the capsule.

            If I wasn’t in such bad shape, I would verbalize my anger with him calling my pokémon average.

            “Really, the only pokémon of interest was your Porygon-Z.”

            As he says it, my stomach drops, realizing what poké ball is in his hands.  If he harmed zir in any way…

            “See, you can always trace the manufacturer on the parts used to evolve a Porygon.  There’s always a signature on them, if you will.”  He pauses his tossing, looking directly at me.  “Porygon-Z here, both its upgrade parts have Team Galactic signatures on them.”

            I roll my eyes.

            “I can only assume you stole these parts when you raided our Eterna City base,” he says.

            I don’t understand what he’s getting at.  “Stealing from thieves hardly matters to me,” I tell him, my voice scratchy and painful. 

            “I don’t think you’re in much of a position to talk back to me, besides, you’re missing what I’m getting at.”   With a flick of his wrist, he releases my pokémon.

            Zi floats beside him, the glow from zir eyes burning mine until they adjust.

            “Knowing your pokémon was using our upgrade parts, we were able to…reprogram it.”

            Instead of leaping into my throat, my heart threatens to stop all together.  “Ziva!” I yell out, using zir nickname in a desperate attempt to get her zir to listen.

            Ziva doesn’t even acknowledge me, looking only at the commander. 

            I lean forward, the cool air leaving me wracked with chills.  Pitifully, I drag myself closer to the chain-link fence, reaching a hand out to my pokémon, despite knowing how gratifying it must be for the commander to watch. 

             “Discharge,” he orders.

            Porygon-Z turns to me in a blink, zapping the barrier quick enough for my hand to get caught in it, sending a painful jolt through my whole body.

            I grip my chest, desperate to catch my breath and steady my heartbeat, absolutely sure I’m going to die if it doesn’t settle.

            The commander laughs low in a way that distinctly fills me with anger, wrapping me in a hot-flash.

            “Who even are you?” I ask, my voice reverberating around me.  “Mars, Jupiter– all of them!  All of them couldn’t wait to tell me who they were, but you– who the hell are you?”

            I hate that I can tell how amused he is by my outburst.  He smirks at he gives me a look over, the gesture still making my skin crawl just as it did back at the lake.  “Are you looking for my given name, or my commander name?”

            “I don’t care,” I say through gritted teeth.

              “Seeing as you haven’t earned my given name, I’ll tell you who I am in Team Galactic.  I am Commander Saturn, right hand to Leader Cyrus.”

            Not long ago I had wondered if there was a ranking to the commanders, and today I got my answer.  There was a ranking, and I had clearly tangled with the worst of them.  Cyrus might be the leader, but I could already tell that Saturn was far more conniving and vindictive that him. 

            In my silence, he kneeled down, getting eye level with me, my pokémon hovering over his shoulder, staring into my soul with zir bright yellow eyes.

            “But more importantly,” he said, his voice soft like velvet, a texture I distinctly loathe. “I am the man who is going to win.”  Without me noticing, he slipped his hand through the chain-link, grabbing a hold of my scarf, pulling me forward until my face was pressed up against the metal.  “You may have won our battle, but I will conquer you.”

            He holds me firm to the metal, long enough to leave an imprint against my cheek, before finally letting me go. 

            I claw my way to the back of the cell, desperate to stay out of his reach.  “How?  By letting me starve in some basement?”

            For someone so conniving, he had to have something else up his sleeve.  Something as hands-off as starvation seemed…below him. 

             He stood tall, continuing to stare me down.  He shook his head.  “I could easily do just that, but…” He shrugs.  “That wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, now would it?”

            A shiver runs up the back of my spine, and if I had anything in my stomach, I might have threatened to puke, but instead I force the feeling down, knowing hurling nothing but stomach acid would only make things worse.

            He recalls my pokémon, turning himself to the side to step away.  “I’ll send one of my grunts to move you to your new holding.  I think you’ve spent enough time here as it is.” 

            Without another word, he heads off, returning to his game of tossing my pokémon’s poké ball into the air, my heartbeat echoing his footsteps. 

            I want to yell at him.  Demand to be set free.  Demand to know where I am. 

            But words fail me.  All that comes out is a scratchy breath. 

            I desperately want to fight back.  Every fiber of my being is telling me to, but I just don't have the energy to do so.  Hunger spikes in my stomach again, reminding me of how helpless I really am. 

            For now, all I can do is curl back into the corner, and pray to whatever being out there that I make it thought this, and try not to think too hard about what Saturn might be doing to my pokémon. 

            Are they all safe?  Are they being cared for in any capacity?

            Are the lake pokémon safe?  I failed Azelf –were Lucas and Barry able to protect the others?  Are they safe?  Or were they taken by the other commanders like I was?

            Is Sinnoh going to be safe?

            Somewhere in the middle of cycling through the endless questions I had, I dozed off, finally succumbing to exhaustion, my last conscious thought being how much I hated Commander Saturn…

Chapter Text

            Nausea from teleporting jolts me awake, and then my eyes begin to burn and water from how bright my new surroundings are, coming with it searing headache. I fall to my side, desperate to cover my eyes in the crook of my arm. 

            “My apologies.”

            The voice isn’t one I recognize, but when I try to look at them the headache pounds behind my eyes. 

            “Give yourself some time to adjust to the light.  I’ll be back in a second,” the voice tells me before their presence in the room vanishes.  I can only assume they have a teleporting pokémon with them, but what kind remains to be seen. 

            Within a few minutes my eyes adjust, and my heart stops pounding in my chest.  Looking around me, I reassess my situation.  On my knees, I then pull myself up to sit on the edge of the cot next to me, knowing I don’t have the strength to stand. 

            I’m still surrounded with cold grey concrete, and a mesh gate at the front, but this cell has lighting with switches I have access to. 

             Towards the back is an enclosed area; maybe a restroom.  For a small second my hopes rise that it might be, feeling how desperate I am to use the restroom and to bathe, only to remember the precise situation I’m in.  There’s no way there isn’t a camera in there, and I'm not about to satisfy anyone’s fetish.  

            A sink with some shelves above it, holding a few mugs and cutlery, and some extra space indicating space for a few small appliances. 

            Across from the cot is a small table, with two flimsy looking chairs, and next to the cot is a small bedside table. 

            Despite everything I stand for, I can’t deny that I’m in a much better situation now, if only for the fact that I can feel an energy around me.  Wherever I’m at now isn’t as empty as my previous holding. 

            “But I’m still in holding,” I remind myself aloud, hating how scratchy my voice sounds and feels. 

            I scoot back to lean against the wall, only to jump back to the edge when the person reappears in the cell, carrying with them a tray of food and water.

            Ignoring the feeling in my stomach at the sight of food, I instead focus on the person.  Judging from how they’re dressed, they’re not a grunt.  They lack the standard uniform all grunts wear.  Their outfit is still reminiscent of Team Galactic; variations of grey and garish, but their hair is pulled back in a short ponytail, their dark roots a stark contrast against the remaining seafoam green. 

            Likely a step down from commander; an admin.  Not a class in Team Galactic I’ve had much experience with.  I fought maybe one or two while raiding the Eterna City base, but other than that, they stay behind the scenes, doing more dirty work for the commanders than anything. 

            Peering over their shoulder is the sleepy head of an Abra, clinging onto the admin like a backpack. 

            Admin sits the tray onto the table, turning back to face me.  “I trust you had time to look around?  You should be grateful Commander Saturn has felt so generous as to give you all of this.  Mars and Jupiter were advocating you stay back in the Eterna basement.”   

            That explains why it had been so deathly quiet at my last cell.  After my raid of the Eterna base, the building had been completely shut down, abandoned, with its fate to be decided by the city’s government. 

            Quite obviously they did nothing with it if Team Galactic still had access to it.  Enough access anyways to at least throw me in its basement for a few days.

            I roll my eyes at the admin.  “I’m not about to be grateful for being captive,” I tell them.

            They hum.  “I can always take you back,” they tell me.

            I hold my tongue, averting my gaze. 

            “Now, I brought you some easy foods for you to eat.  A simple bone broth, some white rice, and some fruit and water.  All prepared by me, so I can assure you it’s all safe,” they explain. 

            I laugh through my nose, but say nothing. 

            “Do I need my Abra to verify it’s all safe?  A pokémon doesn’t lie,” they offer. 

            I shake my head. 

            “Also, in your bathroom over there, there’s a small linin closet.  Feel free to shower and change clothes.  I took a guess at most of the sizes, but it has to be better than your current state.”

            I roll my eyes again, looking back up at them.  “I’m not about to satisfy whatever weird shit Saturn is into by using that bathroom.”

            Their face had been completely neutral up to this point, but they break out in a grin, laughing quietly as they adjust their glasses by the thick rim.  “If it calms you any, I can assure you the camera that is watching you isn’t pointed in here.  It’s positioned down at the opening, only to ensure you don’t escape.  It doesn’t even capture audio.  And, besides, as far as I’m aware, he doesn’t have any piss kinks.”

            They said it so plainly, as if they were merely telling me the weather, it caught me off guard enough to almost laugh.  “And how would you know that?” I ask, even though I didn’t even want that answer.  It would be a cold day in hell before I wanted to know anything like that.

            Admin shrugs, reaching up to scratch their Abra’s head.  “I train psychic pokémon exclusively, and you learn a lot of unfortunate things that way.”

            Silence falls between us, the admin having nothing left to say, and I’m too focused on the tray of food sat at the table. 

            The admin dips their head.  “I’ll leave you be for now.  Make sure to eat slowly.  Wouldn’t want to make you sick,” they say before leaving. 

            Their monotone voice doesn’t ease me any, but after a few seconds of them being gone, I move myself to the table, too hungry to think about being ashamed for taking the food.  The hunger pit in my stomach overrides everything. 

            Despite how plain I know the food is, the broth is warm and rich, the fruit is a perfect balance of sweet and tangy, and the rice has a near perfect texture; the best meal I’ve ever had.

            Pathetic, really. 

            By the time I finish my pitifully divine meal, I can feel strength return to me.  My limbs no longer feel light, and my vision stays normal when I stand. 

            The restroom calls to me again, but first, I’m going to do a complete thorough check of the entire space. Top to bottom, I’m going to make sure the admin didn’t lie about the camera placement. 

            Everywhere I can get my hands on, I search.  Every corner.  Every square inch.  I rip out all the towels and clothing in the linen closet, searching every inch of that as well.  By the end of it, I’m exhausted and gross, but I’m at least confident there isn’t a camera spying on my every move.

            It doesn’t stop the background fear of being watched I have while in the restroom.  The relief that comes with it all is at least enough to overshadow it.  I was only provided a combination hair and body wash, but with how disgusting I felt, it was all relieving.  Even the varying water temperature didn’t upset me. 

            Shrugging on the provided grey sweatpants and tacky Team Galactic shirt –because honestly who would even print these after all they’ve done?– it’s all I can do to drag myself back to the cot.  It won’t win any comfort awards, but it’s a far cry from sleeping on the cold ground.  At least now I have a pillow, blanket, and some semblance of warmth again. 

            The second I get comfortable, I realize I forgot to switch off the light. 

            Pulling the blanket up over my head to cover my eyes, I decide that I’m too tired to even care.  After spending a few nights in utter darkness, it’s all a welcome change.

            “It’s not a welcome change,” I say aloud after realizing what I had thought.  “I won’t be grateful for being captive,” I say again, if only to remind myself. 

            At the end of the day, I’m still in a bad situation.  A bad situation that’s been made marginally better; none of which I should be okay with. 

            For now, I need to bide my time.  I’ve made my way out of tough situations before.  I can do it again, hopefully.

            I think back to the admin. 

            Maybe I can win favor with them.  If I can find a way to get on their good side maybe that will be the key to getting out of here.  If I can even convince them to bring me just one of my pokémon at some point, I know I can escape.  Porygon-Z is out of the running since zi seems to be under Saturn’s influence, but any of my remaining five members would suffice.

            Infernape, Garchomp, Staraptor, and Floatzel would all be able to physically break through anything.  Even my new Eevee I received from Bebe would surely be of use.  She was new, but still a growing powerhouse.

            Falling asleep, I repeat to myself that I can and will make it through this.  It’s all a matter of time…

            The first few days pass easily enough.  I spend most of my time sleeping once I assure myself that I’m the only one in this holding area, my body desperate to catch up from my initial imprisonment.  I only wake to use the restroom and bathe, or when the admin brings me food.  All my meals continue to be bland and easy on the stomach, and it’s only the backpack-Abra admin who brings me food.  For whatever reason, Saturn seems to be keeping at a distance. 

            Admin isn’t much better.  They stay only long enough to retrieve my old dishes and clothing, doing their best to avoid any real interaction with me.  The most they ever indulge me in is when I ask what time it is.  It at least provides me with some semblance of how long I’ve been here. 

            It would be nice to at least have a name to call them, but upon asking, they insist I only call them Admin. 

            After four nights in my new holding, when boredom has finally start to set in, I block the way to my table, stopping Admin in their tracks.  “Where’s Saturn?  Why are you the only one checking on me?”

            They shrug.  “He’s a busy man, Dawn.  He can’t spend all of his time with you.”

            I laugh mockingly, crossing my arms to get my point across.  “When Saturn said he was going to ruin me, I didn’t think it would be by trying to bore me to death.”

            They shrug again, side-stepping me in the tiny space to pick up the tray they had brought me earlier in the day.  Standing tall, they keep close to me, leaning down to get in my face, forcing me to step back.  “By thinking you can win favor with me, and by wondering where the commander is at, I would say everything regarding you is going according to plan.”

            They leave without another word, and I find myself wracked with chills. 

            Wondering where my captor is at is only normal, right? 

            But more importantly, how did they know I wanted to win them over somehow?  Did their Abra tell them? 

            I brush my teeth, turn out the light, and try desperately to fall asleep, wondering if their Abra is keeping tabs on me while they’re both away. 

            Anxiety from it all leads me to getting little sleep, and me waking up what feels earlier than I normally do.  It’s a long time of staring at the wall until someone shows up to bring me breakfast. 

            Instead of Admin bringing me my meal, teleporting into the room is a smug Commander Saturn and his Alakazam, carrying a tray in one hand, and a small box in the other. 

            I scowl instantly, making him laugh. 

            “Good morning to you, too,” he says, setting the tray down on the table first.

            I look him over.  He’s dressed in his commander garb, likely meaning he’s in the middle of Team Galactic affairs.  He’s probably only here to mock me and remind me that I’m his captive, and that he has some grand plan to ruin me; but in all honesty, I’m starting to think he actually didn’t think he would even get this far, and is now just making everything up as he goes. 

            Leaning back up against the wall, I put as much distance between us as physically possible.  “What are you doing here?” I ask him.

            He shrugs, pulling a chair out from the table to take a seat.  “Heard you were missing me, and I can’t keep my favorite captive waiting.” 

            He then holds out the box to me, to which I barely give more than a glance. 

            “Brought you something from my favorite bakery,” he says.  “Has to be better than whatever my grunts have been feeding you.”  He glances at my meal to emphasize his point, but I refuse to buy into any of it.  He’s not about to win me over with something as simple as a pastry. 

            “Where am I?”  I demand.

            “A Team Galactic holding cell,” he answers plainly. 

            I roll my eyes at him.  “You know what I mean, you Mudbray’s ass.”

            He laughs, wholeheartedly, leaning back in the chair.  “Feeding you has been a good decision.  You’re much more fun when you’re not disoriented from hunger.”

            I refuse to simply be his amusement.  “Why are you holding me here?” I ask.

            He sets the box on the table.  “Come now, Dawn, you can’t expect me to put all my cards on the table just yet.”

            A small part of me had been foolish enough to hope he might.  It’s not like I had anyone I could tell. 

            Some silence passes before he chuckles, moving to the edge of the chair.  “I suppose I can’t get too mad at you for being so stubborn.  After all, you and I are a lot alike.”

            “You don’t know anything about me,” I hiss.  The sheer implication that we are anything alike makes me want to hurl.  Right in his direction.

            He leans forward, making me press harder against the wall behind me.  “I know far more about you than you think I do, Dawn Berlitz, daughter of Johanna and Roland Berlitz.”

            Oh, please.

            “I’m well known in the contest circuit.  You telling me my parents’ names doesn’t say much,” I mock. 

            Being the daughter of two famous contest stars, it’s not like that was even hard information to find.  The quickest internet search can turn that up.  Both my parents have their own pages on the Super Contest Wiki for Arceus’s sake.

            He hums, bringing a hand up to his chin.  “You’re an only child, born to two people who, let’s be honest, probably never should have married one another in the first place.  You’re an accident.  An accident that tied her abusive father to her mother, without even meaning to.”

            My heart wrenches in my chest.  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say through gritted teeth.

            But I’ve already lost.  I’ve already made it clear how easily he got under my skin.  My family’s business was our own.  None of it was supposed to be known to the public.  Barry and Lucas barely knew any of the behind the scenes Berlitz drama…

            He ignores me, pressing on, a look in his eyes that says to me he’s enjoying every second of this. “It’s not as though you had any choice.  You didn’t ask to be born to two dysfunctional people.  It’s not your fault your father was a narcissistic ass, and it’s not your fault your mother was his enabler.”

            “Shut. Up,” I hiss, the sting of tears burning behind my eyes.

            He shakes his head.  “It’s not your fault you mother hid the abuse from you until you were nearly eighteen, choosing only to dump all of that information on you hours before your contest in Jubilife.  A contest you were then unable to even make past the appeal round because you were so distracted by the news.”  He pauses, tapping his chin with one finger.  “Actually, that was on the day of your eighteenth birthday, wasn’t it?  You are coming up on nineteen, now, aren’t you?” he asks.

            Completely under my skin, I only want to yell at him.  “Nobody was around for that!” I yell, pushing off the wall, my fists trembling beside me.

            I want more than anything to wipe the smirk off his stupid, smug face. 

            “Nobody you noticed, anyways,” he says with a wink.

            There’s nothing I can say to that.  I had been so distracted and distraught that day, it actually doesn’t surprise me that I failed to notice at least someone being around for that whole mess of an exchange with my mother. 

            He leans back in the chair, crossing his legs casually.  “See, I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a long time now, Dawn.  The moment Mars reported that a child had nearly ruined everything at the Windworks I couldn't not be intrigued.  When I received more information about you, and realized that you were only a few years younger than me, I became…” He moves his hand around in a circular motion.  “Fascinated.”

            His tone sends a violent shiver up my spine. 

            Despite him staying in his spot and keeping his hands to himself, I can only imagine him reaching over to touch me.  Grabbing me and holding me tight like he had when he stole me away from the lake.  I still remember exactly how rough his hand had felt on my wrist.

            “I’ve had a watchful eye on you for well over a year now, Dawn.”

            Desperate to keep my composure, I puff out my chest and stare him down.  “You don’t scare me, Saturn.”

            “Remind me, who was the one to best the other?” he asks.

            I narrow my eyes.  “I still beat you in our battle, and you know if I get my hand on a single one of my pokémon again, I will wreak absolute havoc on all of you.  I’m not scared of the man I cornered.”

            He tilts his head, unperturbed.  “Is that why your hands are trembling? Is that why Alakazam is telling me you’re lying?” he asks.

            I refuse to back down.  “I think your Alakazam is the one lying.”

            He leans forward again, reaching a leg out towards me.  I react all too quickly, bringing my legs up to my person, pressing hard up against the wall, the cot squeaking below me. 

            “Then why do you lean back when I get close?” he asks. 

            “Thinking you’re disgusting and being scared of you aren’t the same thing,” I tell him, begging my hands and then my whole person to stop shaking. 

            Faintly, I hear the watch on his wrist begin to buzz.  “We’ll see about that.” 

            He stands up, taking a step back towards his pokémon, no longer threatening to invade my space.  “Unfortunately, I have things to attend to, so I’m going to have to cut this visit short.”

            He looks to his pokémon, and before I can think better, I lean forward, catching his attention.  “What about Mars and Jupiter?  I wasn’t the only one sent out to protect the lake pokémon.  Did they fail like you did?”  I asked, hoping a small taunt would at least get me some answers. 

            He laughs low, the sound reverberating around me.  “Bold of you to assume I didn’t acquire Azelf.”

            My hands fall to my side, my heart sinking into my stomach. 

            His shoulders raise in a shrug.  “Same time tomorrow?” he asks.

            I say nothing.

            “Guess you don’t have much of a choice, now do you?” he asks, beginning to laugh when his Alakazam takes them away. 

            For a few moments, I do nothing.  I say nothing.  I look nowhere other than the spot where he and his pokémon stood.  I want time to ensure that I’m really alone.

            The second I’m sure that I’m going to remain unbothered until my next meal block, the floodgates open.  Tears stream down my face, my whole body wracked with sobs. 

            I cry.  Cry and cry and cry and cry and cry.  I cry until my whole body is sore and unable to produce anymore tears.

            Hauling myself up from the cot, I snatch the pastry box off the table and throw it against the mesh gate with as much strength as I have left.  It clatters against the material, the throw enough to open the box, sending a small cinnamon roll tumbling out.  

            I fall back against the cot, on my back, and beg the universe to give me a sign.  A sign of anything.  But most importantly, a sign that everything is going to be alright.  That I will actually make it through this. 

            I close my eyes, trying desperately to reach out to Azelf, praying I have some semblance of a connection to the pokémon.  I was sent to Azelf’s lake for a reason. 

            All I’m met with is absolute silence…

Chapter Text

            Saturn starts to regularly visit me.  Usually my morning meal block, sometimes in the evenings, and on rare occasions, I have to tolerate him for both meals. 

            At first, it was surprising to me.  He tends to do very little talking. I completely ignored his firsts attempts at small talk, and so now he usually brings with him something to read when he joins me. 

            We sit in silence for the most part, the only sounds coming from his fingers flipping the page of his book, and a few hums here and there.  The books he read never have proper covers, their paper linings always taken off, so I’m never entirely sure what he’s reading.  At most, I catch a few words of whatever is on the back of the page he’s turning. 

            I refuse to eat in his presence at first, choosing to wait until he leaves.  I didn’t care how cold my food got.   

            Eventually, though, I put that wall down.  He shows up so frequently, he becomes a non-presence to me.  He doesn’t make my pulse race anymore.  I don’t fear him in any capacity. 

            He’s just a dumb man who I’m convinced doesn’t have any real plans as to what to do with me. 

            The only thing that surprises me is when he doesn’t show up. 

            The only excuse I’m ever offered in his absence is that he’s a busy man.

            In some ways, it makes me hopeful that Barry and Lucas actually succeeded, and that Saturn had lied.  Hopeful that they were able to stop Mesprit and Uxie from being stolen from the lakes, and that’s why Team Galactic’s plans seem to be taking so long. 

            Boredom takes a strong hold of me.  I resort to counting the flecks of chipped paint on the ceiling between meals and sleeping.  It worsens my lost sense of time, and I’m starting to suspect that Admin is lying to me when they tell me the time.  

            The sound of footsteps approaching disturbs my counting.  One hundred forty-three chips of paint later. 

            It’s only when I remember that neither Saturn or Admin ever walk to my holding cell that I sit up.  They always teleport.  Nobody shows up by foot, and it’s setting off alarm bells. 

            “So, this is where Saturn has been keeping you,” a smooth voice greets. 

            I instantly recognize that it belongs to Commander Jupiter, and for the first time in a while, my heart skips a beat. 

            Beside her is Commander Mars and a Kadabra, all staring me down like an animal on exhibit. 

            “We wondered where he moved you after the Eterna basement,” she continues, putting a hand on the mesh gate. 

            Mars crosses her arms, a smirk on her thin lips.  “Has Saturn been keeping you down here like a pet, or has he been keeping you like a pet?” she asks, putting a certain emphasis that makes my stomach churn at the insinuation. 

            I roll my eyes at her, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of getting under my skin. “If he even thinks of putting a hand on me, I’d rip it off.”

            They both laugh at me.  “Big talk for someone who is at our mercy.”

            Siding my legs off the cot, I try my best to not back down.  All they want is to get a rise out of me, and I don’t need to let them know it’s working.  “Bigger talk from the two women I had no trouble beating.”

            Both their expressions harden, irritation clear across their faces. 

            Jupiter glances down at the Kadabra.  In a flash, they’re now in my cell. 

            Standing up, I stele my nerves, heart erratic in my chest as I anticipate having to defend myself. 

            Mars uncrosses her arms.  “I think you should be more careful about what you say,” she threatens.

            I shrug my shoulders, no thinking about the consequences I’ll likely face.  “You didn’t scare me at the Windworks and you don’t scare me now.”  I then look to Jupiter.  “You both were hardly threats to me then.  You’re still nothing to me.”

            At this point, maybe I’m looking for a fight because it’s the only thing that’s made me feel anything in so long. 

            Maybe I’m looking for a way out of this in the worst possible way.  I’m so desperate for a change, maybe I don’t care that I’m looking at leaving this place in a body bag. 

            Jupiter is the first to reach out to me.  “I say we get a little payback for the trouble you caused the two of us.”  

            Taking a step back, a bright flash appears between us, Saturn and his Alakazam instantly filling the space.  He stares down at both women, grabbing Jupiter’s wrist. 

            “You two will leave if you know what’s good for you,” he hisses. 

            Mars steps aside, trying to get between them.  “You’re not the leader, Saturn,” she quips. 

            He doesn’t even acknowledge her, continuing his staring match with Jupiter.  She grunts a bit as he flexes his grip.  “But you forget that I have a certain sway with Cyrus.  Leave.” 

            Jupiter rips her wrist from him, rubbing the spot.  “You know exactly what this brat did to our missions, and you’re defending her?” she asks.

            He crosses his arms, keeping himself firm between us, with Alakazam raising his spoons.  “This is my final warning to you two.”

            Mars reaches for Jupiter’s arm, glaring at me.  “This isn’t over.  I will–“

            “Alakazam,” Saturn interrupts. 

            In a flash, the psychic pokémon is gone with the two other commanders and their pokémon. 

            For the briefest of seconds, a thought so quick I barely registered it, I wonder if he killed them. 

            I just as quickly think better of it.  Whatever sway he says he has with the leader, I doubt he would get away with such a thing.

            Uncrossing his arms, he turns to me, regarding me with an expression that almost feels…soft.  “Are you alright?” he asks.

            I sit down with a huff on the cot, looking up at him, clenching my fists until I can feel my nails digging into my palm to hold back the shakes.  “What’s it matter to you?  Aren’t you supposed to be ‘ruining me’, anyways?” I ask him, saying it in such a way he has to know I think it’s an absolute joke at this point. 

            He gives me a full look over as he comes to a kneel in front of me. 

            I’m exhausted and unable to even give a damn about how he looks at me by now.  His presence still means nothing to me.  Now that it’s just us, my heart settles back down, the danger of the other commanders abated. 

            “You’re my mission and my mission alone.  I don’t need outside help,” he tells me. 

            I catch myself about to laugh.  “Figured you would welcome it seeing as whatever you think you’re doing to me clearly isn’t working.”

            He moves closer, enough for me to feel the warmth of his body, but it’s only when I think he’s looking at my lips do I come to my senses, pulling my legs up to my person, and pushing back up against the wall. 

            “I would say it’s working just fine.”

            He says it in a way that has to be dripping with some sort of innuendo.  I want to say he’s making my skin crawl, but there’s something…different about the feeling entirely.  Something different about it that I know if I think about it too much, I’ll just end up making myself sick. 

            I’ve been trapped here too long. 

            Standing tall, he steps away from me, just in time for Alakazam to return to him.  “Anyways, I’m afraid I’m going to have to skip our usual meal date.  I have to ensure they’re properly reprimanded.  Knowing Cyrus like I do, he’ll consider the whole thing a waste of emotion, so it’s up to me to ensure they know they’ve wronged me.”

            The question escapes me before I can even think better of it.  “What do you mean by having a certain sway with Cyrus?”

            He hums.  “Can you play chess?” he asks instead of answering.

            I’m unfortunately easily side-tracked.  “Can’t say I’ve played since I was a kid,” I tell him.  I know I used to play with my father when I was little, but that was so long ago, I can’t even say I know which piece does what.  Something about the queen being the most powerful piece, maybe? 

            He shrugs, looking away from me.  “Maybe I’ll tell you if you can beat me.”

            And then he’s gone. 

            It takes a while for myself to calm down enough to even begin processing things. 

            I’ve been here too long, but how long I’m not even sure.  I need to find a way to keep track of time.  My pokétch is long dead, cast aside to the table. 

            I contemplate breaking one of the coffee mugs on the shelf so I can scratch tally marks on the wall.  Something.  Anything. 

            But Saturn has to be keeping an eye of some sort on me.  While maybe he happened to see Mars and Jupiter on the camera that’s monitoring the cell door, I can’t help but think it had more to do with Alakazam than anything.  If I do anything too disruptive, he’ll likely reprimand me somehow. 

            Despite how lax he’s being about everything, I don’t want to take any chances.  The tone he took with the other commanders was enough to re-instill some sense of fear in me. 

            It feels like an eternity before Saturn returns to me.  Admin takes over bringing me my meals.  At two a day, I want to say it’s been a week since I last saw Saturn. 

            One hundred sixty-two flecks of chipped paint across the ceiling.  That’s the number I'm convinced of at this point.  Sometimes I count more.  Sometimes less, but that’s the number I'm sure of. 

            Just when I think I truly am going to lose my mind with how bored I am, Saturn returns to me.  Alakazam carries my meal, and the commander carries with him a pastry box, a chess board, and what looks like some magazines. 

            Never in my life would I have expected to be ecstatic by the thought of a crossword puzzle. 

            “Figured you were getting bored,” he tells me, taking his usual seat at the table. 

            “Oh, please,” I say, hauling myself up to sit across from him.  Despite it being the truth, he doesn't need to know that.

            After letting me eat, he sets the chessboard and pastry box between us, working to set up the pieces.  “Seeing as you said you haven’t played in a few years, we’ll treat this like it’s your first time playing.”

            I sit back in the chair, only watching as he sets the pieces into place.  He drones on about the importance of each piece, and how it’s a ‘simple’ strategy game that requires careful planning and sacrifice. 

            He quickly realizes I’m not about to participate in this game, so he moves my black pieces for me. 

            Instead of paying any attention to the rules he’s explaining, I find myself studying his features.  He’s not overly muscular, but certainly not scrawny.  A weirdly notable feature is his hands.  They’re just. Nice.  Which is an interesting thought because I know first-hand how rough they can be.

            A slender face, and monolid eyes that only look up at me now and then to see if I’m paying attention.  The shade of blue reminds me of the blue I’ve seen in the glaciers around Celestic Town. 

            He’s…kind of handsome.

            The instant the thought enters my mind, I react with a visceral shake of my head, disgusted by every part of it, and praying Alakazam wasn’t reading my thoughts. 

            Saturn laughs low, leaning back in his chair.  “Something come to mind, Dawn?” he asks.

            I shake my head, more reserved this time, crossing my arms in front of me.  “Just that– this is stupid.  You’re delusional if you even think I’m going to humor you by playing this stupid game.”

            My body is wrapped in a warm flush, and it’ll only be made worse if he figures out why. 

            He opens his mouth, about to speak, but his watch beeps at him.  Glancing down at it, he shrugs.  “I suppose we’ll have to continue this another time.  I have business to attend to.”

            He doesn’t offer more than that, leaving with Alakazam before I can risk saying or doing something else stupid. 

            I remain frozen in place, trying desperately to purge the thought of him being attractive from my mind. 

            The more I try to rid myself of the thought or explain it away, the more it persists. 

            With a deep breath, I reach over to toss out the pastry box, then begin sifting through the magazine pile.  “Finding him objectively attractive doesn’t mean I’m okay with anything he’s doing,” I tell myself.

            Handsome and evil don’t cancel each other out. 

            I repeat that to myself over and over while looking for the dates on the magazines.  They’re all from well before I stormed Lake Valor, but still a welcome sight.  Along with some reading material, there are a few books with things like sudoku, crosswords, and other word puzzles. 

            Unfortunately, I noticeably lack writing materials. 

            I look up to the ceiling. “Oh, c’mon, you could have at least given me a pencil or something,” I say to nobody. 

            After a few pages into my first magazine, Alakazam teleports back into the room, startling me. 

            He nods an apology, extending a hand out to me, offering out a mechanical pencil, and a black ink pen. 

            I look at the offering, then up at the pokémon.  “Can I ask you something, Alakazam?”

            He nods only after I take the material.

            “Your kind are known for being incredibly intelligent.  You’re probably one of the smartest creatures on the planet– clearly you know right from wrong.  Why do you stick by the side of a man who is clearly evil?” I ask him.

            He blinks slowly, something about the motion showing me the true age of the pokémon.  He has to be older than even Charon.

            I receive no verbal answer, but in the back of my mind, I swear I hear, “He’s my friend,” before the pokémon teleports away. 

            If nothing else, I'm left with more questions than before. 

            Getting myself situated, I begin to read, not wanting to burn through any of the word puzzles just yet.  I still have to bide my time, and pacing my way through those will hopefully ease things. 

            Saturn resumes joining me for my meals, twice a day more often than not, and now with proper writing materials, I’m able to properly keep track of how long I’ve been here. 

            Despite his best efforts, I still refuse to play chess with him.  The most I allow him to get from me is my attention now and then.  He talks enough for the rules of the game to come back to me, but I'm not confident that I could beat him.  Not yet, anyways. 

            One day he shows up early, catching me with my hair still damp, standing outside the gate.  Around his fingers, he twirls a ring of keys. 

            “What do you want?” I ask, trying to squeeze the moisture out of my hair, before throwing the towel into the hamper. 

            He shrugs.  “I think you’ve earned a walk.  Keeping you cramped in this little holding cell for too long is going to be bad for you.”

            By my own estimate, I’ve been captive for two months.  To say I haven’t physically deteriorated would be a lie.  I can see in the mirror that I'm far less toned than I was when I first arrived.  I doubt I could do all the hiking and biking I did before. 

            I hate how great a walk sounds right now.

            “Only if you promise to keep your mouth shut the entire time,” I tell him. 

            He shrugs again, opening the gate for me.  “Fair enough.”

            When I join his side, he leans down close, his cologne invading my senses, but I do not flinch.  He’s still a non-presence to me.  “But do be aware that if you try to bolt, I will throw you back in the Eterna basement without a second thought.”

            By now, I’m so used to him, I don’t even flinch.  “What part of ‘keep your mouth shut’ did you not understand?” I ask. 

            He laughs, standing tall, keeping pace beside me.  He says nothing, only nodding. 

            Together, we walk the basement in silence.  It feels good to move around, but it feels even better to have a proper understanding of my surroundings.  A cold basement, packed to the gills with boxes and unused equipment. 

            While surveying it all, I desperately try to see if I can find anywhere that might be of use to me.  Any doors or windows that could lead to an escape, or at least tell me where I’m at.  Something.  Anything.

            Unfortunately, I don’t even see another door as we walk.  Everything must be brought down by teleportation. 

            Just before I can lose hope, we come upon a small window.   High up on the wall, it’s far too small for me to even think about squeezing through, but it is enough to let a small ray of light shine onto the floor. 

            Without thinking, I step away from Saturn, towards it.  He makes no motion to stop me, only watching as I step into the rays. 

            It’s the most sun I’ve felt since right before I landed at Lake Valor, high above the clouds with Staraptor. 

            The window provides only a faint view of another wall, likely looking out onto an alleyway. 

            I stand there long enough for the sunlight to fade, replaced by the faint sound of rain –something I didn’t realize how dearly I missed. 

            I look back up to Saturn, who regards me with a soft expression, just as quickly turning away from it.  “Are my pokémon being cared for?” I ask, feeling my throat tight in refusal to cry. 

            It’s only when he doesn’t answer me that I look back at him. 

            He blinks innocently.  “What?  You told me not to run my mouth.”

            My body slumps in response, in turn getting a chuckle from him.

            “I assure you, they’re in excellent hands.”

            I turn back to the window, before forcing myself to return to his side, praying with every fiber of my being that he isn’t lying to me.  A chill runs up my back, worsened by the damp spot left by my hair. 

            For two weeks, we continue this way.  Walking around the basement before my first meal, and then him continuing to try to get me to play chess with him. 

            The morning I decided I would finally cave, because I was out of new reading material, and still not ready to ruin all the word puzzles, he didn’t show up. 

            Alakazam eventually arrives, by himself, wordlessly dropping off my food before leaving.

            Just as quickly as we had settled into a routine of sorts, it comes to a grinding halt.  Saturn stops visiting.  Admin never shows up.  It’s only ever Alakazam, and no matter how hard I try, he never stays long enough for me to ask a question, thoroughly ignoring me at every turn.  Though, I suspect he already knows what I want to ask. 

             The most I get out of him is a grumble here and there when he has to stay longer to collect my laundry and deliver toiletries.  An embarrassment I swallowed a long time ago. 

            The days slowly but surely begin bleeding into one another.  Even though I keep track of the days in the back of one of the books, I can’t help but think I’m lying to myself.

            I’ve read everything Saturn brought me twice, if not three times over.  All the activity books have been filled out, erased, and filled again.  I take to playing chess by myself, because it’s all that I have left at this point. 

            After a month of solitude, late into the night, my head feels light and my grip on reality is deteriorating.  There had been times on my journey around the region where I was alone, but nothing like this.  At the very least, I always had my pokémon with me, and occasionally I would come across another traveler.  Sometimes I would even get to travel with Barry and Lucas. 

            I miss those times more than anything…

            Overcome with despair, I grab the chessboard and fling it off the table with a yell.  It hits the wall with a crack, sending the pieces flying across the room.  I take notice of the black queen piece as it rolls under the gate well out of reach, effectively making the entire set useless to me.

            A sob escapes me, and before I know it, I’m crumbled atop the table, crying until I’m in pain. 

            I want my friends.

            I want someone to talk to. 

            Barry was my childhood friend.  He always knew how to cheer me up.  Even my most miserable contest or gym loss he could make me smile; forget just long enough about the pain to where I could get back up and be ready to fight again. 

            Lucas might have been a newer friend, but I always felt like he and I had an instant connection.  We understood each other so easily, and he knew how to make the best of a bad situation. 

            I think back to the time Lucas and I had convinced Barry to enter the Floaroma Contest alongside us.  It was right before my raid of the Valley Windworks.  Mid-spring, the whole town was in bloom, and the air was so sweet it left me with a headache the entire time I was there, and I could barely breathe from all the pollen.  Despite it all, I remember thinking I would never see a more beautiful sight than the sunrise the morning of the contest.  

            A contest I handedly won.

            We spent the entire night together, enjoying each other’s company as we lounged around the pokémon center, blissfully unaware that the following morning we were going to be pulled into Team Galactic’s affairs. 

            Thinking about that day, I can’t help but feel envy for that version of myself.  She had no clue what she was about to be messing with.  She was merely on a journey with her two best friends.

            I feel myself beginning to fall asleep somewhere in the throes of my own envy…

            Ashamed as I am to admit it, my last thought before falling asleep lingered on Saturn, and how I would even settle for his company right about now…

            At some point in the night, I feel myself moving.  I’m in that half-awake, half-asleep area, my dreams bleeding into my movement. 

            I’m convinced it’s Lucas carrying me.  He’s done it before, after a long contest and me falling asleep in the common area of the pokémon center. 

            I’m laid down with care, a hand coming to rest on my cheek.  I reach up to grab it, immediately forgetting who I even thought was moving me in the first place.

            “Stay,” I mumble. 

             I try to open my eyes, but my body is desperate to fall back into a deep sleep.

            The person responds with a soft laugh.  “We both know you won’t want that in the morning.”

            They pull their hand back, and I desperately reach out for them, grabbing hold of soft sweatpants material.  “Please,” I mumble.  More than anything, I’m tired of being alone.  So tired of it that it’s begun to feel like a physical ache. 

            My hand is grabbed by one that is soft, and I’m not sure if it actually happened or if it’s my dreams bleeding into reality again, but I swear I feel a gentle kiss to my hand. 

            “Maybe one day, but not now.” 

            I want to call out to them and beg them to stay, but words suddenly fail me.  My screams are silent in my dream, desperate to get the shadow to stay.  By the time I wake up, I remember none of it, only a vague memory of being so wrought with despair and loneliness that I flung the chessboard across the room. 

            Rolling onto my side, I look up at the table to find the chessboard back in its place, all pieces set up and accounted for, ready for a new game…

Chapter Text

            For two entire months I sit in isolation. 

            Alakazam thoroughly ignores me.  I can feel my body beginning to deteriorate under me.  I’m in so much pain from barely moving from my cot, but even the pain isn’t enough to motivate me to move most days.  I can’t even remember the last time I properly showered, or ate. 

            I’ve started hearing things.  Seeing things.  I catch myself wishing I was dead, because surly death is a better alternative to delusions of everyone I’ve ever met. 

            In a last-ditch effort to retain what little sanity I have left, I try to recall every little detail from the journey I went on.  From the moment I went to Lake Verity with Barry, all the way up to facing off with Saturn at Lake Valor.  From there, I restart, trying once again to recall every detail. 

            The most emotion I can drag from myself is whenever I get around to the times I had accidentally kissed both Barry and Lucas. 

            Early in our journey, in Jubilife City, Barry had helped me with something, and as I thank you, I went to kiss his cheek.  Something I had done hundreds of times before.  He turned his head to say something to me right as I leaned in, leading me to kiss him. We both freaked out, apologizing profusely, Barry then running off on me with promise to fine me. 

            The next time we met up, we at least had a good laugh about it.

            Kissing Lucas happened months later, and by now, well over a year ago. 

            We had entered the double contest in Pastoria City together.  It was an appeal we had worked on tirelessly the weeks leading up to it, but not an appeal to be used in the actual appeal round.  An appeal for the final battle round.  It was an absolute gamble, because it involved getting his Staravia and my Monferno to evolve at just the right time.

            If I think about it hard enough, I can still feel the heat from Monferno’s Fire Spin, strengthening as he began to glow with evolution, combining with Staravia’s Brave Bird, in a performance we dubbed “Phoenix Overture”. 

            The appeal gave the illusion of a giant phoenix, and when the attack landed, it broke away to reveal Staraptor and Infernape. 

            It had gone over so well, we wiped out our opponents’ remaining points, sealing our victory. 

            Caught up in the crowd’s reaction and the overall excitement at the appeal working, when he went to hug me, I had grabbed his face, kissing him hard.  I didn’t even see his reaction, Infernape and Staraptor tackling the two of us, both pokémon feeding off the crowd’s energy.

            Later that night I had apologized to Lucas, feeling like I had assaulted him, saying it wasn’t fair to do that to him.  He was quick to stop me, saying that it was fine, because he hadn’t minded it. 

            I didn’t have the courage to bring it up after that, though.  I was too scared to ask what “not minding it” had meant.  It’s almost funny to me now how absolutely confident I was when it came to battles, contests, and facing off against Team Galactic, but how terrified I was of confronting my own feelings. 

            It’s all nothing but memories now, but they at least bring me a small comfort when I reach those points.

            In the middle of my mental journey through the Eterna Forest for the I-Lost-Count-How-Many-Times, I feel a presence teleport into the room.  I don’t even bother looking away from the ceiling.  It’s probably just Alakazam bringing me whatever meal it is.  Or maybe clearing away my previous one.  I don’t care.

            “Poor thing.  You look bored out of your mind.”

            I don’t even react to the voice.  It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve imagined Alakazam talking to me. 

            I continue my way through the forest, concentrating on the rotting wood floors of the Chateau hidden in its depths.  The way the boards creaked.  The way I remember it smelling.  The flickers of movement I swore I saw out of the corners of my eyes.  How quickly I had left once I realized how close to sunset it was getting.

            There’s a weight at the foot of the cot, and I finally break from my thoughts.

            Saturn. 

            I refuse to believe any of this is real.  My delusions have only gotten more and more tactile as the days go by.  He looks…incredibly real, though.

            I rub my eyes, hard, until I see spots.  “You’re not real,” I grumble.

            He hums, putting a hand on my leg.  “I didn’t mean to leave you as long as I did.  Even I find this to be…a bit much.”

            Certainly one of my nicer delusions of him.  He looks exhausted.  Almost as tired as I feel.

            Normally, I would try to ignore the delusions until they just.  Go away. 

            I can’t bring myself to do it this time.  I’ll play along.  I’m so lonely, and not looking forward to mentally going back into the Eterna Forest. 

            Sitting up, there’s a distinct ache in my bones.  Everything is sore and it hurts to move, but I tough through it, moving myself to put my head in his lap, taking him by surprise.  He’s so warm.  So warm it almost feels real. 

            He says nothing, only carding his fingers through my hair, brushing it all out of my face. 

            The nicest delusion to date.  I almost feel guilty knowing my hair is probably disgusting right now. 

            “I suppose a late apology won’t do much to fix anything, but for whatever it’s worth, I won’t be doing this to you again,” he tells me.  His voice is soft and comforting.  I didn’t realize how much I love the timbre of it. 

            I might be willing to accept a late apology.  However, an apology from a delusion is meaningless.  If anything, it’s worse, because it’s just my mind being needlessly cruel to me.  “You’re not real.  You’re just another delusion,” I say again, trying to convince myself to not play along too hard.

            He hums, hand lingering on my cheek.  Warm and solid. 

            With a gentle hand, he coaxes me into a sit.  Hooking my arm around his shoulder, he picks me up in a bridal carry.  I don’t process anything he says to me, barely able to focus on anything other than the feeling of his grey sweatshirt in my fist. 

            This is either the most detailed delusion to date, or this is real, and I’m in his arms, and…excited about it.

            In a quick movement, we’ve been teleported away from the basement.  I tense in his arms, burying my face in his neck at the flash of nausea it induces. 

            It’s dimly lit wherever he takes me. 

            “I don’t have much time to give to you right now, but my room will be better for you,” he says, carefully lowing me to sit at his bed’s edge. 

            He says something else as he steps away from me, but I don’t process any of it.  All I can focus on is the floor at his feet, and the feeling of the navy blue comforter’s fabric below me.  Soft. Cotton.

            He’s gone for a moment, and in his place, Alakazam steps towards me.

            Placing a hand on my shoulder, the nausea abates, and then he steps back.

            I barely manage a hushed, “Thank you,” to him. 

            He nods, stepping back out of the way for Saturn, who takes a kneel in front of me, holding up a glass of water.  “You’re dehydrated,” he tells me. 

            I barely remember drinking it, but the next thing I know, it’s sitting empty on the nightstand, and he’s coaxing me to lay down. 

            “I’ll be back later to check on you,” he says. 

            As he steps away, I reach out to grab ahold of him, my hand shaking around his wrist.  “If you’re real, then don’t leave.  Please.”

            Normally, I would have expected a smirk or a grin of some kind, but his expression is hard to read.  “Begging for the company of your captor.  I did quite the number on you, didn’t I?” he asks.

            The irony of the whole situation isn’t lost on me, but I’ve tucked that away.  That kind of isolation…I can’t.  Never again.  I don’t care how bad the company is.  Isolation is infinitely worse. 

            “Don’t leave me alone like that.  I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to sleep alone, I just– Saturn, please…” I beg.

            He leans down, bringing my knuckles to his lips, sparking a faint memory.  A shadow.  Being carried.  “I have one last appearance I have to make, tonight.  I will return to you right after.  I promise.”

            He leaves with Alakazam before I have room to say anything else, my hand still hovering in the spot where he held it.  Pulling it back to my person, I barely spare the room another glance before laying down.  His bed is so much softer than the cot I’ve been sleeping on for the past forever.  Despite doing nothing but sleeping, I’m overcome with exhaustion.  

            The whole bed smells like him, clean and spiced, and it’s enough to take my mind off the hollow feeling in my chest.  Grabbing my pillow, I hug it to my chest, finally falling asleep. 

            Late into the night, I’m awoken by a soft touch on my shoulder. 

            Bleary-eyed, I see it’s Saturn, who looks even more exhausted than when he left me.  “You should get under the covers,” he tells me. 

            I mumble some sort of agreement, half-awake as he disappears into the restroom.  Shortly after, the sound of the shower running fills the space. 

            I stay awake until he returns.  Peering over my shoulder, he must have assumed I was going to fall right back asleep, as he’s only covered by the towel at his waist. 

            My heartbeat pounds in my ears, making it hard to listen to any move he makes.  Staring intently back at the wall, I realize I can’t decide what I’m hoping he’s going to do next.  Earlier, I had basically asked him to sleep next to me, and now I can’t stop thinking about him crawling in next to me, or even on top of me and–

            Oh, fuck me…

            He steps back into the restroom, and now I’m wide awake, unable to decide if I mean, “Fuck me” figuratively, or…Arceus…literally; I’m that touch-starved.   

            I’ve been excited to get a hug from someone before, but this…this is a whole new feeling.  A whole new level of desperation.  A desperation that sits hot and low on my body, nothing like I’ve ever experienced. 

            I’m cognizant enough to realize I’m not in my right mind, but just desperate enough to not care. 

            Sitting up, back against the headboard, it isn’t long before he returns.

            “Did I wake you?” he asks, standing in the soft light. 

            “Where were you?” I ask before I can even think better of it.  Words are tumbling out of me, and I’m helpless to stop them.  “Why was I alone for two months?  Two whole months?”  I cover my face with my hands, feeling the shaking returning.  “Or was it even longer?  Every day was bleeding into the other– I’ve been seeing and hearing things–“ I look up at him, feeling tears at the corners of my eyes.  “I’m still not even sure this is real!”

            He moves to sit in front of me, but nothing beyond that.

            “Are you happy?!  You did it, okay! You did it! You broke me!  You absolutely broke me!  I have no fight left in me!”  My tears break free at the admission.  I didn’t want to admit it.  Never.  Not to anyone.   Not to him, but especially not to myself.

            But I can’t hide from that truth any longer.  He ruined me –thoroughly– just like he said he would, using an approach so hands off I was helpless to ever save myself. 

            Digging my hands in my hair, I can barely keep my voice together.  “What do you want from me?  Anything– I’ll give you anything just– don’t put me back in that basement.  I’ll do literally anything to not go back there– I–“

            He puts a hand on my knee, his touch so light it almost feels…timid.

            “I didn’t mean to be gone as long as I was.  Two weeks at most.  Admin was reassigned, and while I trust my other grunts, Admin was the only one I trusted with you.  It was all I could do to keep Alakazam attending to you.  I’m sorry.”

            And the sad thing is I believe him.  I have no reason to believe he’s genuinely sorry, or that the solitary confinement wasn’t intentional.  I have absolutely zero reason to trust him, and yet…I do. 

            The me from the beginning of all of this would be so mad.  Furious, even.  But she’s gone. 

            His voice is softer.  “I’ll tell you tomorrow the full reason I was gone.”

            “Why can’t you tell me now?” I ask, wiping my eyes of the last of my tears. 

            He leans closer, and it’s all I can do to actually focus on what he’s saying rather than the fresh cloud of bodywash that clings to him.  “I don’t trust that there aren’t prying eyes and ears around.  Tomorrow.”

            I nod, momentarily placated.

            “For now, we both could do with real sleep.  In the morning, I will explain myself and have Alakazam move your things if you wish, but for now, sleep,” he says, standing up with a huff to turn out the restroom light, then move to the other side of the bed.   

            Forcing myself to lay back down, I keep myself at the edge of my side, trying to shove down the desperation that still hangs heavy in my chest.  Trying desperately to ignore the want to roll over and reach out to touch him, just to feel his warmth and be sure this is real. 

            Instead of focusing on that want, I listen to his breathing.  Within minutes it evens out in a way that tells me he’s asleep. 

            A small flicker of an escape plan crosses my mind.  The door is only a few feet away.  It’s late, which would hopefully mean wherever we’re at is quiet. 

            Clutching the blanket to my chest, I shove the idea away, telling myself that I won’t go through with it because I’m sure Alakazam would just come after me.  Not because some sick part of me is actually content to lie here…

            Muffled voices reach the edge of my sleep, but it’s the smell of coffee that pulls me out of it all together.  All at once, my whole body feels light, yet hard to move.  It’s reminiscent of how I felt the last day I was in the Eterna basement.

            Struggling to roll onto my left side, I see Saturn sitting at the table, a cup in his hand, a book in the other.  “Well,” he starts, book turning over in his hand to look at his watch.  “About time you woke up.”

            As if time actually means anything to me anymore. It could be past noon for all I care.

            “What would you say to a field trip, sometime?” he asks.

            I shrug, bringing myself to a sit at the edge of the bed. 

            It’s hard to breathe.

            “Dawn.”  He voice is worried.

            The sound of ceramic being set on a wooden table.

            I can’t even remember the last time I properly stood.  Combined with not eating the previous day, when I do try to stand, my vision blacks at the edges, and I stumble back onto the bed. 

            The sound of something falling to the ground hits my ears, loud, and then Saturn is right at my side.  “Careful,” he sooths, guiding me into a sit.  “Sorry, I– Alakazam warned me you haven’t eaten in two days.” 

            I respond with a mumble, surprised, because I thought it had only been one day, but, again, time means nothing to me. 

            He leans me back against the headboard, slipping away from me to grab the glass off the night stand, refilling it with water from the pitcher on the table.

            “Drink slow,” he tells me, careful as he hands me the glass.

            Normally, I would be frustrated with being coddled, but my hands are starting to shake, and a glass of water isn’t supposed to feel this heavy.

            “This is your fault,” I grumble, leering at him over the rim of the glass. 

            “It is, isn’t it,” he says, but not in the tone I would have expected.  No mockery, no sneer.  Just acceptance for what he’s done.

            He takes the glass from me after a few sips, using his other hand to put the back of his palm to my forehead.  “Going out can wait.  I need to let you recover, first and foremost.” 

            A decision that’s probably for the best, because I’m starting to think he actually cares and is actually sorry for leaving me in a position to get this bad. 

            The rational part of me says he only “cares” because he just wants to get back to taunting and annoying me. 

            The irrational, desperate, part of me hopes he genuinely does care…

            Most of the day passes in a blur.  Between meals of simple soups and water, all I can do is sleep.  Saturn keeps nearby, usually reading over at his desk. 

            Again, he has late night Galactic affairs to deal with.  He leaves me with Toxicroak, who merely stretches out on the floor, content to lay there.

            I’ve recovered enough strength to force myself to shower.  A few hours ago, Alakazam had moved what few things I had here, Saturn giving me the left side of the closet.  From what I can tell, he doesn’t keep much here, the closet being quite bare to begin with.

             Unlike my shower back in the cell, his has consistent temperature, and better water pressure.  I stand in its stream far longer than necessary, feeling the tension in my shoulders slowly ebbing away.  By the time I’m done, it’s not completely gone, but I almost feel like a different person. 

            Not caring that the pillow is going to be wet from my hair, I go straight to bed afterwards, lulled to sleep by Toxicroak’s soft croaking. 

            I’m half-awake when Saturn returns, and by the looks of it, so is he. 

            He’s already pulling his shirt over his head as he heads for his closet, grumbling about something before ducking into the restroom. 

            Toxicroak snickers from the floor when he returns. 

            “Oh, hush,” Saturn tells him, stepping over his pokémon to get to the other side of the bed.  There, he hesitates, seeming to rethink sleeping next to me. 

            Wanting to go back to sleep, I adjust my pillow, looking up at him.  “Come to bed,” I mumble. 

            “Sorry for waking you,” he whispers, finally sliding in under the covers. 

            “Don’t be,” I say, not thinking as I reach out for his hand.  He was only gone for a few hours, but it was enough to remind me of the loneliness. 

            He squeezes my hand, lifting it, about to kiss my knuckles like he had earlier, but stops.  Instead, he lets go, rolling over onto his other side, faced away from me, leaving me…disappointed, for some reason. 

            In the morning, Saturn is gone before I’m even awake.  Toxicroak is still with me, at least. 

            Alakazam brings me fruit and bread that is freshly baked.  Simple, but much more pleasant than soup that was barely more than broth. 

            Throughout the day, I force myself to stand up, pace around the room, and stretch.  Snagging a few books off his shelf, I bring them back to bed with me.  Most of his collection is on different fields of science, and while I'm not particularly interested in any of it, I’m far less interested in sitting with my thoughts. 

            Settling in, I look down at Toxicroak. 

            “Hey, Toxicroak.”

            He opens one eye up at me. 

            “Do you want on the bed?” I ask, and no sooner is he at the foot, making himself comfortable, getting a laugh from me.  “Do you like being pet?”  I follow up. 

            He makes the loudest croak I’ve ever heard from a pokémon, adjusting himself so his head is now in my lap, a grin on his face.  I’d never really considered Toxicroak to be cute pokémon, but Saturn’s is…growing on me. 

            “Gotta admit, didn’t take you for a cuddly pokémon,” I tell him, stroking the back of his head. 

            He croaks in response, continuing to do so softly.  It reminds me of a purring feline pokémon, but more…froggy? At the very least, it’s weirdly soothing. 

            The day slowly passes, and even though I’m tired by the end of it, I can’t bring myself to sleep until Saturn returns. 

            It’s another late-night arrival from him. 

            “Are you ever going to get back at a reasonable hour?” I ask, making a mental note of the page number I’m on before finally setting it on the nightstand. 

            He grumbles.  “Not if Cyrus has anything to say about it,” he says.

            I want to ask him about that, but decide against it.  Likely, it’s something he won’t answer just yet.  I’ll have to get him away from here before I can get those kinds of answers. “Come to bed,” I instead tell him.

            He hums, rubbing the back of his neck.  “In a minute,” he says, grabbing a change of clothes before ducking into the restroom to get ready for bed.

            The second the water is off from his quick shower, Toxicroak lets out the most defeated sigh I’ve heard from any pokémon ever, crawling onto the floor to lay on his back. 

            Saturn comes to bed shortly after, this time not hesitating.  Again, the cloud of bodywash on him is…weirdly intoxicating, in the best kind of way.  I selfishly just want to sleep against him, laying with him until the hollow feeling in my chest finally goes away. 

            “Are you alright?” he asks, making me jump.

            I nod, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket. 

            “I can practically hear the wheels spinning in your mind,” he says, reaching over to tap me between the eyes.

            “I want something, but I don’t know how to say it,” I admit.

             He hums, and there’s something about the lowness of the note that makes it that much harder for me to resist. 

            Ignoring every voice in the back of my mind telling me he’s a bad idea, in one quick movement, I move closer to him, tucking myself under his chin.

            At first, he makes no movement, almost waiting to see if I change my mind.  When I don’t, he relaxes, moving to where one arm is under my neck, the other around me in a warm embrace.

            I thought I was tired, but now with his hands on me, I’m…very awake.

            He takes a deep breath, and I make a fist around his shirt’s collar. 

            “You should go back to your side.  You won’t want this in the morning,” he tells me.

            I’ve heard that before. 

            “Yes, I will,” I say. 

            He leans back, reaching up to move my hair away from my face.  “You really won’t,” he insists. 

            I tighten my grip.  “I wanted this last night, and I still want it now. I want–“ more. The voice that says this is a bad idea is completely drown out by the voice that just wants. 

            I want him to roll me onto my back, to feel the weight of his body pressed up against mine. 

            I want him to touch every part of me.  I don’t have any experience beyond two more or less accidental kisses, but I want more experience. 

            I want to know what someone else’s hands feel like.  His hands. 

            I want to know if he’s rough and domineering like when we first met, or if he’s gentle and attentive like the current side of him I’m seeing, or even somehow a mix of the two.   

            I want to forget how lonely I ever felt in the first place. 

            I want him.

            He traces along my jaw with his thumb, the simple touch leaving me lightheaded.  “I’ve already done enough to you.  Go back to your side.” 

            Clearly, he’s not going to budge on that.  Maybe it’s just his way of letting me know that he doesn’t want me like I want him.  He has some other goal with me in mind, but this isn’t it. 

            Somehow, I’m both disappointed and relieved. 

            “Fine,” I grumble, letting go of him to move as far to the edge of the bed as I can.   

            It’s a while before I’m finally able to sleep, and even though I never turned back to face him, I think he had a hard time sleeping, too….

Chapter Text

            I wake the next morning to find the bed next to me empty, mirroring the feeling in my chest.  Saturn had been wrong.  I fell asleep wanting him, and woke up the same way.  The only thing I’m unsure of is how to get that point across to him clearly, without also coming across desperate.

            Toxicroak’s face pops up in view, making me jump.  He snickers at me.

            Reaching out, my hand lands on his head.  “What do you want, goofy boy?” I ask him. 

            He croaks, looking over to the table.  There, an electric kettle has been set up, sits with an array of teas and honey.  A pleasant little surprise.

            Forcing myself out of bed, I get the kettle started first, then busy myself with making the bed.  

            The array isn’t wide, but considering I’ve only had water to drink for the past few months, it’s weirdly exciting.  A cup of chai with honey and it feels like a holiday.

            When Saturn returns to me, he’s in a good mood.  He’s wearing a grey dress shirt and black slacks.  He was likely dealing with covert Galactic affairs.  Given that I didn’t even know who he was up until a few months ago, I doubt he has trouble fooling the outside world of who he really is, and can easily move in and out of the public eye. 

            It’s well tailored.  He looks nice. 

            Toxicroak snickers at me again. 

            “Feeling up to going out?” he asks, taking his usual spot at the table. 

            I agree without hesitation. 

            I don’t know how much stamina I really have, but I’d do just about anything to get away from here, even if only for a little while.

            “What’s the weather like?” I ask, making my way to the closet. 

            He looks to his watch, swiping through its touch screen.  “Oh, uh, sunny and…59?”

            When I turn to face him, horrified for a good second, he’s scowling at the device. 

            “Who was I talking to that needed Fahrenheit? And why didn’t I just do it in my head?” he asks to nobody.  He taps around the screen before looking back up at me.  “15.”

            So, a nice day. 

            I force a laugh, retuning my attention to my limited selection.  “Had me worried you were taking me to a volcano.”

            Sinnoh still uses both imperial and metric, but I’m more familiar with metric measurements as imperial has been worked out over the years. 

            While he grumbles to himself about the various settings on his watch, I duck into the restroom to change.  Black leggings, a grey shirt that’s loose but void of a Galactic logo, and my hair tied back loosely will have to do.  He’s seen me at my absolute worst at this point.  I don’t care what I look like around him. 

            When I step out, he’s already standing, waiting for me with Alakazam at his side.  

            Wrapping a hand around my waist, he holds me close, and I don’t dare let go.  “Just be prepared.  You haven’t seen this much sunlight in a while,” he says.

            I nod, and after a quick flash of nausea, I’m met with a searing headache right behind my eyes, unused to the brightness of the sun.  Burying my face in his shoulder, it’s all I can do to take the edge off. 

            Around us the air is cool and has a quality to it that reminds me of autumn.  Under that, there’s a salty, fishy smell reminding me of a harbor.  The distant sound of a boat horn leads me to believe I’m right.  There’s only a handful of cities we could be in, and when I dare to untangle myself from Saturn, the cobblestone below us makes me think of Veilstone.

            Looking around us, the headache fades away.  The trees are in full autumn colors. 

            A soft push to my lower back, Saturn gets us moving, Alakazam taking the lead. 

            I haven’t seen the city from this angle, but I’m positive we’re in Veilstone. 

            At the street corner, a person turns, walking directly towards us.  My heart lurches in my chest, but as they draw near, despite making eye contact with me, they pay us no mind.  No acknowledgement whatsoever. 

            I look to Saturn, and his hand splays against my back, keeping me moving.  “Alakazam can make a psychic field around us to where anyone who enters the field won’t know we’re here.  It makes it impossible for their minds to perceive us,” he explains.

            That explains a few things…Like how he knew about my mom dumping all the abuse my father put her through on my 18^th birthday.  

            “I trust you’re familiar with Veilstone?” he asks, pushing us on towards an area of the city I’ve never been to.

            I nod.  “I’ve been here a few times.”

            “You’ve done a few contests here.  Beat the gym leader, even,” he continues.

            “I did do that,” I say.  It had been a good battle with Maylene, but I don’t think either of the contests I did were anything of note.  None of my ribbons came from this city, at the very least.

            “Which pokémon did you use?” he asks.

            As if he doesn’t already know.

            “Porygon2 and Monferno,” I answer.  I didn’t have a fully evolved team until after the Pastoria Gym.

            He nods, but I'm more focused on the hand still on my back.  “Didn’t even have to use the type advantage you would have had with, I’m assuming, Staravia.  Impressive.”

            “Still beat you, didn’t I?” I quip, looking up at him.

            Maybe I did have a small shred of fight still in me.  Somewhere.

            He laughs, the sound low and warm.  “You’ll always hold that over me, won’t you?” he asks.

            I shrug.  “What happened to Admin?” I ask, diverting the conversation.  Now that I have a chance to finally get answers, I’m not going to stand around and play his games.  Not exclusively, anyways. 

            “Team Galactic is undergoing some…changes,” he carefully answers.  “Cyrus’s goals aren’t being met like he wants them.  Unfortunately, more than half of my assigned grunts were moved around because of it, Admin included.”

             “What’s delaying the whole, ‘new world’ nonsense?” I ask, a red-hot flash of worry coursing through me as I realize what and how I had said it.  The sunlight might have reignited some fight in me, but I still need to be wary.  One wrong step and I risk him throwing me back in the basement.  I’d much rather keep my place sleeping next to him, rather than there.  I’ll take sleeping next to him any day over the basement. 

            But to my absolute surprise, he grins, stirring that feeling again I had woken up with.  “You haven’t figured it out?” he asks, bringing us to a stop.

            I shake my head in a no.

            “Me.”

            My mind whites out at the admission.  As simple as it was, it was an absolute bombshell of information. 

            I scramble to put together what little I know to desperately come up with a reason.  He’s Cyrus’s right hand.  The second in command.  Top of the commanders–most cunning of them all!  And he’s the one throwing things into disarray?

            He tilts his head towards me.  “Throwing a wrench in all his plans and covering my tracks isn’t exactly easy, you know.  It’s a very meticulous process, and very time consuming.  It’s why I was gone for so long.”  He says it all so plainly.  Like it’s clear that’s what he’s been doing this entire time.  Like, of course, he’s been the one disrupting things. 

            “I don’t understand,” I say, forcing one foot after the other as he urges me on with his hand.

            His eyes keep focused ahead.  “I’ve known Cyrus long enough to know his plans aren’t genuine, and that all of his promises are, at best, empty,” he says, continuing to leave out just enough details to make me want to know more. 

            Hell, not even want to know more, desperate to know more.

            “How long have you known Cyrus?” I ask.

            He chuckles, glancing down at me.  “You still haven’t beaten me at chess.”

            I almost forgot about that original deal.  I didn’t think he would actually tell me how he has sway with Cyrus if I did beat him.  I figured he would just get mad and change the terms, constantly moving the goalpost.

            “Then I know what we’re doing when we get back.” 

            For a split second, I think to be upset by that.  The voice in the back of my mind reminds me that, ‘get back’ means I’m not breaking away from him.  That I’m still captive to him. 

            Yet, somehow…I’m not too upset.  I’m resolved to the fact.  If I do try to break free, Alakazam will just capture me again, and if by some miracle I do get away, I will have learned nothing more than there are currently two factions within Team Galactic, one of them being under Saturn’s grip; and that information alone will help nobody. 

            Plus, Saturn still has all my pokémon, and I’m not leaving them behind for anything.

            I tell myself that, if nothing else, I’m content to stay by his side so I can figure out what the long game is, and to figure out how I play into it.  Clearly, he has some end goal with me in mind.  I just need to figure out what it is.

            Maybe it’s the sunlight and the cool breeze, but I’m feeling far more capable than I have in a long time.

            Below us, the cobblestone transitions to a cracked, grey cement.  The buildings are much shorter than they are downtown, and a heavy stench starts to creep in to my senses.  Soon enough, we’re by the docks.

            “Do you know what I hate most, Dawn?” he asks, stopping us at the corner where wood meets cement, and the sound of dockworkers and their pokémon fill the space.

            “Not hearing yourself talk for at least ten minutes?” I ask, flatly.

            When I look at him, he’s clearly trying to hold back a laugh.  “Yes,” he answers, getting a breathless laugh from me.  “But more than that, I hate greed.  Loathe it, in fact.  I firmly believe it is the root of all problems our world faces.”

            I nod, but say nothing, allowing him to continue.

            We keep walking, the wood boards below us barely making a dent in the sound around us. 

            “Take all these dock workers, for example,” he says, keeping us closer to Alakazam now. “They work for a well-known cargo shipping line.  No doubt their work is back breaking, even with the assistance of pokémon like Machamp.  I can guarantee you their pay isn’t even close to equivalent to the work they perform.  All because the CEO and other corporate bigwigs want to keep their own pockets lined.  They would sooner starve any number of their employees than take even a dollar out of their own paycheck– and don’t get me started on the cruise line industry and how it’s wrecking Pastoria.”

            Our presence is thoroughly ignored as we walk along the docks.  The sea breeze becomes bitter and choking as we get close to the ships, all piled high with multi-colored shipping containers.  Even the burliest Machamp looks worn out. 

            “How many of them do you think work multiple jobs just to barely get by?  How many of them do you think are risking eviction because some scummy landlord bought up their entire complex, and decided to raise the rent as the first step to gentrifying the area?”

            He sounds more like he’s speaking from experience. 

            “The way you’re talking, I’m assuming most of them,” I answer.  “How are you so sure?”

            Between the bow and stern of two ships, he brings us to a stop.  He’s practically sneering at the two vessels.  The sea-salted breezes are gone, and now it just reeks of oils and smog.  “If I were to tell you my given name, you might realize that I come from the greediest of the greedy.  I’m positive because my mother’s family owns the shipping company, and most the apartment complexes in this district.  I know just the kind of pay cuts they have made just to make their shareholders happy instead of their own employees, and I know just how much they raised rent as their tenants’ leases came up.” 

            I don’t tell him this, but he could probably tell me his name and I would be none the wiser.  I honesty can’t say I know much about all the rich people around the world; but there’s such a venom in his voice, I’d probably be lying if I said I didn’t believe him. 

            He tears his eyes away from the ship, moving us along with a small push.

            Everyone around me looked exhausted before, but now…there’s something else to that exhaustion.  Something that upsets my stomach, and makes me grateful for the, more or less, easy life I’ve had so far.

            “You don’t go by your given name, though, do you?” I ask, not meaning to even ask.  It’s something I’ve inferred over the past few months.  This is the first time he’s even mentioned having a name besides Saturn since I asked him what his name was back in Eterna.

            He shakes his head, a small flex of his hand that is still on me.  “I only use that name when doing outside work for Team Galactic.  Otherwise, I have no use for it.  I don’t like more reminders of who I’m related to more than I already get on a daily basis.”

            I shouldn't even extend this to him.  I should leave it at that and nothing more, keeping it to myself, but I just can’t help myself.  “Then I don’t need to know it.”  Which is distinctly stupid.  Knowing the given name of my captor would be incredibly useful, but I just…I have no use for it. 

            “It’s not as though I’m unwilling to tell you,” he says, his voice softer. Like how he had been talking to me the past few days. 

            I shrug, refraining from nudging him in any sort of way that might be perceived as playful.  “I don’t need to know the kind of evil you come from.  I prefer just thinking you are the way you are simply because you’re that bitter I kicked your ass in a battle.”

            He laughs, whole-heartedly, pulling me into him by my hip.  “There she is.” He’s got that grin on his face that is distinctly doing something to me.  Something that is making my whole body warm, treading into hot.  “I was wondering when this side of you was going to come back and play with me.  I’ve missed it.  You’re no fun when you’re disoriented.”

            This time, I don’t refrain, jabbing him with my elbow.  “And whose fault was that?”

            He grimaces.  “In what little defense I have, I assure you I tried many times to get back to you much sooner.  The few times I was able to, you were always asleep, and as much as I enjoy pestering you, waking you up to only bother you for a few minutes at a time didn’t seem entirely fair.”

            Away from the ships, the air gets marginally better, a fresh breeze coming in off the ocean. 

            “What kept you away?” I ask, coming to a pause when I take notice of the ocean’s endless horizon. 

            His thumb makes small circles on my hip.  A simple, yet increasingly distracting touch.     “Cyrus has been determined to figure out who has been wrecking his plans by running all the commanders ragged.  Covering my tracks at the same time left me with barely any time to even care for myself.  I only have time to give you now because Cyrus is stupidly running himself into the ground in the process.”

            I’m not satisfied with that answer. 

            “Where do I fit in with all of this?” I ask. 

            He tilts his head, looking down at me.  “And what makes you think you have a specific role?” he asks.

            “Because I’m not entirely understanding your motivation.  If your only goal was to stop Cyrus, you wouldn't have stopped me.  You would have let me continue what I was doing, but one of the first things you ever said to me was that ‘opposition was not going to be tolerated’ or whatever.  So you– I–“ I grumble, the point I was trying to make escaping me.  “You have to have something with me in mind.  I just think you miscalculated somewhere so you’re stalling for time.”

            He still has that grin on his face, and when he leans down, I catch myself holding my breath. 

            “Normally–“ his voice is low and smooth and I’m thoroughly pissed at how easily distracted I am.  “–this would be the part where I tell you that I don’t miscalculate because I am very good at math.” 

            That was not supposed to have the effect it had on me.

             “However, I also know how to admit when I’m wrong, and so I’ll give you this one.  There have been a few things I never accounted for,” he tells me, leaning away. 

            “What’s one of them?” I ask, glancing at his lips and mad about that as well.

            He hums.  “All in good time, Dawn.  I’ve got plenty of other outings in mind for you.  Don’t want to run out of things to talk about, do we?” he asks.

            Leaning into him, I let him support me.  “I doubt you’ll have trouble with that,” I grumble.

            He chuckles, putting both his hands on my hips to turn me so I’m looking at him.  On impulse, I put my hands on his biceps.  “Let’s cut today short.  Don’t want to overdo it on your first day out, besides, I think I want to see if you were actually paying any attention when I was teaching you how to play chess.”

            I take one last look at the ocean, taking in every second he allows before Alakazam teleports us back to his room. 

            Teleporting earlier made me nauseous, but this time it leaves me feeling like the world is in an unending spin. 

            I let go of his arms, my hands making fists in his shirt, falling into him.  It had been far too soon between teleportations. No matter how much I hold onto him, I can’t stop feeling like I’m falling down while the world is spinning.  Like rolling down a hill, but I can’t bring myself to a stop. 

            “Calypso–“ Saturn’s voice is frantic. 

            And then it stops.  My breathing is still labored, but the spinning and nausea have stopped.

            Saturn’s head is atop mine, his arms around me in a solid embrace, grounding me.  “I’m sorry– I knew you were sensitive to teleporting, but I didn’t realize just how sensitive.”

            For someone who is supposed to be ruining me, I don’t think he’s supposed to care whether or not teleporting gives me severe vertigo.  Then again, when has he ever done anything predictable?

            “I’ll think of something else next time,” he says, a slow hand running up my back. “If teleporting is going to do this to you, I’ll think of a better option.”

            “I just need more time between teleports.  The first one wasn’t bad, but that was awful,” I tell him.

            “Are you going to be alright?” he asks, guiding me away from him. 

            I nod, turning to look at Alakazam.  “I’m fine, thanks to– Calypso?”

            Alakazam nods. 

            “The nickname was given to him by his original trainer.”

            I remember thinking he was an old pokémon, but I guess now I actually have a chance to ask.  “How old is he?”

            Stepping away, Saturn pulls out a chair from the table, offering me to sit.  “He’s almost 100,” he tells me.  “I’ve known him my whole life, but he was given to me when I was 15.  He was a neighbor’s pokémon.”

            “How did he end up with you?” I follow up.

            He shrugs, taking the seat across from me.  “Donovan’s family had expected him to pass along with him, but Alakazam, a Kadabra at the time, always had been drawn to me.  I was the only one apart from Donovan who could actually speak to him.”

            That didn’t surprise me too much.  I know Maylene can speak with her Lucario, and plenty of other people who train psychic pokémon claim to be able to speak with them.  I’m still pretty sure Alakazam even faintly spoke to me once.

            “It’s not as clear like how you and I are speaking, but I generally have a very good understanding of what he’s thinking and feeling.  I’m not like Admin, who can have full conversations with their psychic pokémon,” he continues.

            He glances to his watch.  “Speaking of,” he says, then looking back up to Alakazam.  “If you could follow up with them, that would be a great help,” he says.

            With a nod, Alakazam is gone. 

            “Well, now that it’s just the two of us,” he purrs, a heat rising under my skin.  “Are you still up for a game of chess, or do I need to let you recover?” 

            The whiplash of emotions and feelings this man causes me is surly going to be my absolute undoing. 

            “What do I get if I actually beat you?” I ask.

            He hums, leaning back in his chair. 

            I cross my arms when his eyes start to wander.

            “I was thinking–“ his eyes dart back up to mine “–maybe a compromise of sorts?  Originally, I told you I would tell you how I have sway with Cyrus if you beat me.  How about now, for every piece of mine you manager to take, I’ll answer a question?  Certain things I’ll only answer if you do win, or if we’re away from here, as I’m sure you guessed.”

            I nod, the terms agreeable enough to me.  I’m sure I can ask enough questions around it to get everything I'm looking for.

            He retrieves the chess table we had been using from the closet, offering me a quick overview of all the pieces again.  I didn’t need it, but I don’t discourage him either. 

            Within a few moves, I have one of his pawns. 

            “How long have you been with Team Galactic?” I ask.

            He keeps his eyes on the board, thinking over his next move as he answers.  “Pretty much since the beginning.  Over 5 years now.”

            I nod, watching his move. 

            I’ve only been involved in their affairs for a little over 2 years now, but it makes sense that the organization has been around longer than that.  Cults don’t appear overnight, after all. 

            I make a few stupid plays, losing more pawns than I would have liked, but eventually, I have another two of his. 

            “How old are you?” I ask.

            “About to be 21.  Our birthdays are only a few days apart,” he throws in. 

            That makes him two years older than me, mid-October, and he’s been with Team Galactic since he was at least 15, but maybe 16 depending on when he joined.  Around the same time he was given Alakazam. 

            “How long have you known Cyrus?” I ask, fully knowing it’s a bit of a stretch. 

            He shakes his head.  “Not going to answer that yet.”

            “Fine.  How long have you known the other commanders?” I ask.  It’s a bit of a two for one.

            He shrugs, picking up his rook.  “I met Jupiter and Charon when I joined Team Galactic, but I’ve known Mars since I was…” he looks off to the side, thinking.  “Since I was at least 8.”

            I already know the question I’m going to ask next, but it’s a while before I’m able to ask it.  “How old is Mars?” I ask, plucking his bishop off the board.

            “She turned 28 in May,” he answers.

            That would have put her around 15 when he was 8. There’s a chance they’re related, or more likely their families were friends.  The two aren’t alike enough for me to think they could be siblings, but then again, maybe adopted siblings?  Cousins at the closest possible blood relation, but I’m not sold on either of those ideas.  

            Many bad plays later, I handedly lose. 

            “Damn,” I grumble.

            He chuckles, beginning to set the pieces back up. 

            I loosely cross my arms, looking over at him.  “Well?” I ask. 

            He pauses, looking up at me.  “Well, what?” he asks.

            “The deal was if I won, I got answers.  What are you wanting since you won?” I ask.  Granted, it’s not like I have really anything I can give him, but I want to know where he goes with the offer. 

            He resumes putting the pieces back in their places.  “All I want is another chance to best you.  How about 2 out of 3?” he offers. 

            I’m going to have to file my frustration with the response away with all the other dumb things he’s said or done to upset me. 

            “Fine.”

            It’s a bit of a stalemate for a while.  I’m the first to lose a few pieces, and I don’t think I’ve set myself up for victory this round either.

            “What was your family like?” I ask, snagging a pawn.  “I know you already told me a little about your mother’s side, but I want to know more.”

            He chuckles, legs stretching out under the table.  “I already told you, we’re alike in that way.  My father is a narcissistic ass, and my mother is his enabler.  Though, with what little I do know of her, I would be willing to say your mother is at least far nicer than my own.”

            He follows it up with a blatant bad move, almost as if he intended to allow me a follow-up. 

            I take his rook.  “What do you mean by that?”

            His lips curl up in something of a sneer.  “My mother stood by and watched my father, who was 35, manipulate a girl –a child– 20 years younger than him.  Right in front of her, and myself.  I hardly understood it then, but my mother clearly knew what was going on, and did nothing about it.”  He looks off to the side.  “They were a disgusting pair, really.  Legally, they’re not divorced, but they might as well be.  They haven’t lived together in– quite some time.”  He almost named a number, but stopped himself. 

            I catch myself about to say something that might be trying to comfort him.  Something along the lines of, “I doubt you’re like either of them,” but I'm conflicted.  The last shred of rationality that I have reminds me that I’m still only here because I’m captive to him.

            It doesn’t matter how attractive I find him.  It doesn’t matter that I can admit to myself I’ve fantasized about him putting his hands on me because I experienced a loneliness so awful it made me accept his company.  It doesn’t matter that I secretly agree with him that greed is the worst plague of our planet. 

            He’s no better than either of them.

            Distracted, we both make messy plays, and I don’t ask any clever questions.  He doesn’t tease me.  We merely sit in silence playing a really bad game of chess.

            If we’re both slipping, though, he’s the first to fall. 

            With a grin, I snatch his queen with my own.  “I think that deserves a harder answer.  The queen is the most powerful piece.” 

            He leans against his hand atop the table.  “She is, isn’t she?” he asks, looking at me.  “Fair enough.”

            I feel my heart jump in my chest.  “How long have you known Cyrus?” I ask again. 

            He stares at me for a very long second before answering, “My whole life.”

            With that answer, I have all the pieces to this incredibly messed up puzzle I need.  I’m not liking the picture it’s forming one little bit. 

            In my dismay over the picture forming in my mind, he manages to put me in check. I could possibly weasel my way out of it, but I have no need to try. 

            “I’m going to forfeit, because I think I already have the answer, and I don’t like it,” I tell him, crossing my arms to turn away from him. 

            He hums, not moving.  “Tell me, then, why do I have sway with Cyrus?”

            I glance at him, anxiety rising in my chest, thinking on everything I’ve put together so far.  “He’s your father, isn’t he?”

            He grins, leaning back in his chair.  “A pretty face and a brilliant mind.  Tell me, Dawn, what don’t you have?”

            For the first time in a while, I’m able to ignore the comment, too consumed with the million other questions I now have, but can’t answer until we go on another outing.

            Why wasn’t he involved with Team Galactic from the very beginning? What made him join late?

            Why is he working to destroy Cyrus’s goals?  Clearly, he’s thought for a long time that his father is a disgusting man –which, true– but why such a long con? 

            What ulterior goals does he have in mind with his faction of Team Galactic?

            Where do I fit in with all of this? 

            I wrack my mind for answers, but I can’t come up with more than loose theories and guesses. 

            A soft buzzing from his side of the table is enough to pull me from my thoughts.

            Saturn looks down at his wrist, scowling at his watch.  “Damn,” he grumbles under his breath, swiping the notification away.  With a huff, he’s on his feet, brushing himself off.  “I’m afraid I have to leave you for a while.  Cyrus is requesting my presence.”

            Another question: why does he not call Cyrus any form of ‘father’?  Is it a professional thing?  Does Team Galactic –apart from Mars obviously– not know?  Is it a way to distance himself? 

            He digs into his pocket, retrieving Toxicroak’s poké ball, releasing the pokémon into the room. 

            “I suppose I’ll tell you this now, given that I know you’re feeling better, but–“ he steps closer, leaning down into my face.  “Toxicroak will not obey you beyond protecting you should it be necessary.  Don’t get any wise ideas.”

            I’m hardly off-put by the proximity.  He can give me all the reminders he wants that I’m captive to him, but he’s made the mistake of getting soft on me the last few days.  Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I’m sure there’s a part of him that has some sort of care towards me, and he’s only serving this reminder because he’s switching over into Commander Saturn.  A man who now has to go deal with Galactic affairs, not sit around and tease me and play chess.

            Besides, I still have something he needs.  I’m not sure of what it is at this point, but I fully intend to find out.

            A little fresh air, sunlight, and a walk, and I’m a whole new woman.

            “When do you think you’ll be back?”  I ask, keeping my eyes on his, studying the varying shades of glacier blue. 

            He stands tall.  “Hopefully within a few hours.”  He glances at his watch again.  “I’ll have Alakazam bring you lunch, but if I’m done soon enough, I might bring you dinner.”

            I turn back to the chess table, setting the pieces back in their places. “Because we’ve already established how much you like me when I'm disoriented from hunger.”

            He breathes a laugh, stepping away.  “If I’m going to be late, I’ll send Alakazam to attend to you.”

            “See you later,” I say, continuing to clean the chessboard.

            He’s gone without another word, and Toxicroak is quick to climb up onto his bed, sprawling out to get comfortable. 

            As I finish up my task, continuing to mull over all the questions I have and their possible answers, a soreness overtakes my body.  Going from moving very little to walking around a small district might have been too much.

            Hauling myself up, I sift through my side of the closet, pulling out some sleeping shorts and a new shirt, before heading off to the restroom.

            Making the shower warmer than I normally would, I let the spray ease my soreness, and let my mind wander.  I could easily go back to thinking about all the questions I need to ask Saturn, but instead, I keep circling back to his hands on me.  From last night before he urged me away, to earlier, his hands on my hips. 

            If I hadn’t been overcome with vertigo, would things have gone differently?  Was there any other direction for it to go? 

            Or earlier, when I had asked what he wanted in exchange for victory.  What if he had answered differently?  I really only have one thing I could possibly give him –myself– and what if he had asked for that?  How would I have reacted if he had asked?

            For a second, I nearly give in, allowing one hand to go lower, only pulling myself out of the immanent fantasy the second I catch myself wishing my hands were his. 

            “Stop it,” I say aloud, pressing my back up against the wall furthest from the spray.  The tile is a stark cold against the otherwise hot shower.   

            My thoughts are going places I shouldn’t follow.  I know this.  I’m fully aware of this.  I shouldn’t indulge in them for even a second. 

            Forcing myself to finish my shower, by the time I’m done, I’m more tense than when I stepped in. 

            Lunch is waiting for me when I’m done, but I can barely mange to do more than pick at it, still unused to three meals a day. 

            With another cup of tea with honey, I resume my spot on the bed, intent on reading some more.  With any luck, the dryness of the text will keep my mind from wandering where it shouldn’t. 

            It doesn't. 

            If anything, it makes it worse, because it’s so easy to just drift off since I’m not interested in the subject.  I spend more time rereading the same pages over and over, having to refocus so many times.

            It’s a frustrating few hours, unaided by the fact that I know there’s a simple solution, also unaided by Toxicroak snickering at me now and then.  While I’m sure he doesn’t understand the full extent of my frustration, the snickering doesn’t help. 

            Saturn left behind his poké ball on the table, and if he laughs at me again, I just might recall him.

            At the edge of my senses, I hear voices approaching the room.  Anxiety rises in my chest, but Toxicroak doesn't stir.  If he’s not worried, I shouldn't be either. 

            Door half-open, I see Saturn talking with someone. 

            Moving myself to peer around the corner as much as I can, I see it’s Admin he’s talking to.  Though, their roots have been touched up to the ugly seafoam green, and they’re in full Galactic garb, dressed down to a grunt’s uniform.

            “Stay the course,” is all I hear Saturn say.

            Admin gives him a nod.  “Will do, Commander.”

            They look just past Saturn, making direct eye contact with me. 

            I immediately duck back out of view, hitting the headboard with a bit of a slam. 

            Both Admin and Toxicroak laugh. 

            “Am I going to have to report to Jupiter that you've gotten soft?” Admin asks, clearly intending for me to hear.

            Saturn huffs, stepping through the doorframe.  “Only if you want to ensure I don’t take you back when she inevitably gets annoyed with you.”

            They laugh again, their voice trailing off.  “I’ll report back in when I have news.”

            He runs a hand through his hair, giving a shake of his head as he closes the door behind him. 

            “So, Admin was reassigned to Jupiter?” I ask, forcing my attention back on the book.  I don’t even remember where I left off, and in my haste, it’s now upside down.   

            “Yes, though, they still check in with me.  On one hand, it’s been nice to not have that split second of confusion when working with my other admin.  On the other, I have known them longer than I’ve been with Team Galactic, and so I’m mad Jupiter has them.”

            A good bit of information to have. 

            Setting the book aside, I hope he doesn’t notice that it had been upside down in my hands. “What did you mean by ‘get annoyed’?” I ask, hoping I can continue the string of answers I’ve been getting.

            He slides a chair out from the table, turning to face me.  “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, Admin isn’t the most expressive person.  Them laughing at me just now was probably the most I’ve gotten out of them all month.  I have no problem with it.  They’ve always been that way; but for someone like Jupiter, who thrives on getting reactions from everyone around her…” He shrugs. 

            “Was their hair getting redyed their choice?” I ask.  I’m hoping that by asking enough innocuous questions, I can then lead back into harder ones.  Get him to let his guard down, or at the very least, get him to drop the Commander persona. 

            She shakes his head. “Jupiter demands conformity.  I, on the other hand, not so much.”  He grins.  “I tended to attract all the misfits, and while I'm annoyed that all my original grunts are scattered across the place, I do enjoy knowing they’re making it a pain for the other commanders.”

            I go to ask about the ‘misfits’ part, but he cuts me off by speaking to his pokémon, who is still lounging on the bed.

            “I see you got comfortable,” he comments. 

            He croaks in response, making no effort to move from his spot.

            Reaching over, I run my hand along the pokémon’s head, getting an even louder croak from him.  “You know, I really wouldn't have thought he’d be this cuddly.”  Despite how much he’s been irritating me today, I'm still grateful for him.  He keeps me from being too lonely.

            “He’s always been an attention hog,” Saturn says.

            I can feel his eyes on us.  “Are you done for the day?” I ask, looking over at him, catching him looking at us in a way that seems soft.  While not the first time, after Admin’s joke, I can’t help but linger my focus on it.

            He shakes his head, leaning back in the chair.  “No, I’m afraid I have a late-night rally of sorts to attend.  I’m here long enough to share a quick dinner, but I’ll be back late.” 

            Sliding out from under the covers, I try my best to not disturb Toxicroak too much.  All he does is shift around, getting himself comfortable once more. 

            When I go to stand to join Saturn at the table, I catch his eyes on me.  His gaze is lower.  On my legs, and I realize it’s probably the first time I’ve been in shorts around him.  I arrived in leggings, and have worn sweatpants pretty much exclusively up until now. 

            For the first time ever, I notice a tinge of color on his cheeks as he shifts his focus back to the table, suddenly very interested in sifting through the teas. 

            Something I’ll tuck away for later if either necessary, or if I become desperate.

            Dinner goes by in silence.  A quick meal delivered by Alakazam, who then disappears again at the request of Saturn.  He seems to do everything in his power to avoid eye contact with me through the whole meal. 

            “I see you’ve been doing some reading,” he comments, looking over at the books on the nightstand, setting his plate on the tray that will be taken away later. 

            I nod, setting my water down.  “Your geology books are about the only thing I can really get through.  Everything else just goes over my head.  I’ve always been stupid when it comes to science.”

            He turns to finally look at me, and I feel myself mentally brace for him to mock me.  It wouldn't be the first time a man has made me feel even more stupid when it came to not understanding something.

            “You know, our society’s greed is precisely why you felt the need to say that about yourself,” he tells me, taking me by surprise.  “I would safely assume you have a more arts-oriented mind, given your prowess in the contest circuit, but society doesn’t place as much value on your skills.  However, in the same breath, society demands constant entertainment through the arts.”  He gestures to his bookshelf.  “Take all my engineering books: they would be absolutely unreadable if it weren’t for the illustrations in them, and I’m willing to bet most of those authors didn’t even make those illustrations.  You’re not stupid simply because your mind isn’t oriented towards math and science. You just have skills that are useful elsewhere, and just as valuable.”

            Of all the people I ever expected validation from, he was definitely low on the list.

            “Besides,” he adds.  “A stupid woman would have never beat me, and what did you do?”

            “I didn’t just beat you, I wiped the floor with you,” I respond, playing into it.

            Toxicroak makes a harsh sound in our direction, as if to say, “I resent that”.

            I can only grin at the pokémon.  “Sorry, but Garchomp kicked your butt.” I then turn to Saturn.  “How would Alakazam been on the battlefield?” I ask.

            He rests his chin in his palm.  “He would have put up a much harder fight for you, but…” he shrugs.  “Given how old he is, I don’t ask him to battle.  If he ever wanted to, I would let him, but his energy is best placed elsewhere.”

            As if on command, Alakazam teleports into the room. 

            “Well, speak of the devil,” Saturn says, giving his pokémon his attention.

            Instead of approaching him, he comes to me, offering up a pastel blue pastry box. 

            Taking it from him, I carefully open it, not wanting to disturb whatever might be inside it.  A neat row of multicolored macrons.

            I look at the pokémon with an amused grin.  “Thank you?” I say.

            Saturn’s chuckle draws my attention.  With one last sip of his water, he’s on his feet.  “Consider it a gift from the two of us,” he says.

            I can’t help but laugh.  “What bakery allows Team Galactic in its doors?  I’m positive the region stopped looking at you all fondly.”  There was even a time when I trusted them.  Back when Team Galactic was assumed to be a tacky, but ultimately harmless, clean energy group.

            He stretches his arms out, rolling his wrists.  “A word of advice: if you ever have to have a front for a business, always ensure the business front itself is of high quality.  Nobody suspects the neighborhood, pastel bakery to house a bunch of criminals.”

            I laugh.  “Isn’t it normally, like, casino’s and stuff that are business fronts?”

            He looks down at me, amused.  “I’ll give you three guesses as to why I despise the idea of a casino front, and you won’t need the other two.”

            Greed.

            He walks over to the closet, and I have to throw my arm around the chair to keep my focus on him.  “What’s the gift for, anyways?  Putting up with you?” I ask.

            He chuckles, snagging a Galactic embroidered coat and shrugging it on.  “Putting up with me.  A successful outing.  Your birthday.  Whichever, really.”

            My hands drop to my lap as he turns back to me. 

            The jacket on him looks as warm as I’m starting to feel. 

            “I have nothing material to give you, but the least I can do is offer you the finest pastries in the region,” he says.

            I find myself unable to come up with a response. If he’s not lying, then I have an exact date.  17 October.  I’ve been here for over 4 months now. 

            Through the static of my mind, I just barely register him come to stand beside me.  Hand under my chin, he makes me look up at him. 

            “I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up for me.  Get some rest.”  His tone is warm, like his hand. 

            I blink and he and Alakazam are gone, leaving me alone with Toxicroak and my frustration from earlier that has returned with a heated vengeance.

            Taking a deep breath, I refocus myself, intent on not giving into that feeling. 

            Looking down at the pastry box still in my hands, I catch myself about to make the motion of throwing it away.  It’s what I’ve done with every single pastry he’s offered me.  Up until he disappeared, he brought them nearly every day.  Throwing them out is habit at this point. 

            I can’t bring myself to do it this time.  Instead of tossing them out, I accept the offer, plucking out the white with a red filling macaron.

            A light vanilla cookie with a tart raspberry filling. 

            Either it’s because this is the most sugar-sweet thing I’ve had in months, or it genuinely is a good business front, it might be the best pastry I’ve ever had. 

            Snagging two more out of the box before closing it, then my glass of water, I return to the bed, picking up the book from where I had left off before.

            Same as before, I’m barely able to focus.  Warm, nervous energy sits low on my body.  Not anxiety, but something of a similar nature.  Something that despite having a clear and easy solution, I refuse to give into. 

            After a few hours of barely reading, I force myself to get ready for bed. 

            Toxicroak softens his croaks once the lights are out, crawling onto his spot on the floor. 

            On my side, I look at the empty spot next to me and beg myself to not think about how much I wish Saturn was there, instead of at some late-night rally doing who-knows-what. 

            Rolling onto my back, I close my eyes and think about the ocean view from this morning.  The endless horizon.  A cloudless sky.  The way it felt to stand in the sun.

            Every time I catch myself thinking of his hands on my hips, or any number of the questions I want to ask, I refocus on the blue of the water. 

            I merely drift in and out of sleep for hours. 

            In the middle of the night, Toxicroak lets out a screech, jolting me awake. 

            “No, no– sorry–I–“

            Toxicroak continues his angry croaks, his poison sac gurgling at the churning of his toxins. 

            Saturn is standing beside him, hands frantically trying to hush the pokémon.   “Hush –I’m so sorry,” he adds, taking notice that I’m now seated and awake. 

            Toxicroak grumbles, slinking around him, and recalling himself into his poké ball with a huff. 

            Saturn sighs heavily, giving a dismissive wave towards the poké ball before finally coming to bed.  “I’m so sorry– I stepped on him and he’s an absolute drama queen–“

            “What time is it?” I ask, laying back down. 

            He hums.  “Almost 3 in the morning,” he says, adjusting the pillow below him.  “Keeping up appearances is exhausting,” he grumbles. 

            I’m beyond exhausted as well, but now that he’s here, I know I won’t be able to sleep soundly until I ask.  Moving closer, I take up the other half of his pillow.  “You said you had more outings in mind, right?” I ask.

            He laughs, his minty breath hitting my face.  “Sure.”

            “Just know I’m going to be asking questions I know you won’t answer here.”

            “What makes you think I’ll even answer them?” he asks. 

            His false bravado won’t work on me.  I already know he has a soft spot for me. Plus, even if he didn’t, I still have one ace up my sleeve.  “You’re going to have to tell me sooner or later. You need me for something, and the sooner you give me answers, the sooner you’ll get what you need.”

            He stares at me for a long second before offering me a one shouldered shrug.  “Fine.  Now, either go back to your pillow, or I’m putting an arm around you and going to sleep.”

            I almost laugh.  “That’s gotta be your worst threat to date,” I tell him, rolling over, my back against his chest. 

            He does as promised, throwing an arm around me, hand on my stomach, holding me close.  “Are you positive this is what you want?”

            “Do you not want this?” I ask.

            “I don’t want you having any regrets,” he answers.

            The only thing I’m having is thoughts of pushing his hand lower, letting his gorgeous fingers take care of the incessant heat between my legs.  “What I want is more, but I’ll settle for this,” I say, slipping my hand over his. 

            He doesn’t completely detach himself from me, but he noticeably puts some distance between my ass and his front.  “There’s a lot more I have to tell you before I can allow you to make a decision like that,” he says, voice tinged with…something.

            “Then tell me when you’re ready.  For now, this is fine,” I tell him.  Because it was.  It was absolutely fine.  I didn’t need more, I just wanted more.  Simply being able to touch him, ground myself in the realness of the situation was all I wanted in the first place.  I can shelve the greedy part of me that wants more.  This is enough.

            He’s warm in comparison to the cool room, the bed is comfortable, and the pit of loneliness in my chest if a far off concept.  

            It feels about as right as this wrong situation is going to get…

Chapter Text

    Saturn continues to take me on trips every few days.  Always just in time for me to finish yet another good chunk of a geology book.  Sooner or later, I might have to move to a different subject.  

    For the longest time, he would refuse to put any hands on me more than necessary.  Even though he would hold me in his sleep, during the day, he reinforced a distance of sorts.  Alakazam had figured out how to go about teleporting me to avoid my vertigo, so there wasn’t a chance I’d receive anymore grounding hugs.  

    A shame. 

    However, I am nothing if not persistent, and eventually, my patience is rewarded.  

    I’m unsure of what it is about this trip in particular, but Staurn is very touchy. My arms. Shoulders. Hair.  He’s always touching some part of me, and it’s taking every bit of restraint I have to not show how much it's affecting me. 

    The outing he takes me on today brings us to Jubilife City, and it’s an unusually warm early winter day.  Piles of snow linger in the shadows, but the streets are clear, and I would wager it’s around 6C.  From the limited size of the snow piles, and based on our other outings, I can infer it’s been an unseasonably warm winter so far.  

    Saturn brings us to a bench, where we sit and watch the people mill around us, Alakazam continuing to keep us from anyone’s sight.  Despite the size of the bench, Saturn sits flush against my side with an arm draped behind me.  His posture is relaxed, with a small smile on his lips.  

    I like seeing him relaxed. 

    In front of us, a person crosses the street, getting a small chuckle from Saturn.  “Why do you think crime happens?” he asks, keeping an eye on the jaywalker.  

    I’m quick with a counter, seeing as it’s quite the loaded question.  “How are we defining crime?” I ask.  

    He looks down at me, grinning.  “Elaborate for me,” he says. 

    He’s making this almost too easy.  “Well, are we speaking objectively? Things like murder, assault, rape --crimes comitted for the sole purpose of being vile? Or are we talking about crimes that are only crimes because of an arbitrary law? Like the guy who just jaywalked, or something as stupid as loitering in a clearly public space?” I clarify. 

    He reaches up to move my hair away from my face.  I fight to not lean too much into his touch.  “So you do pay attention now and then,” he teases. 

    “Every once in a while,” I say casually, reminding myself that at the end of the day, this is all just an elaborate game of cat and mouse.  Play it cool.  Don’t run him off.  Give him just enough to stay interested in the chase.  

    Don’t let the cat know his mouse is actually eager to jump into his waiting maw.  

    “I suppose I’ll ask about both.  What causes someone to do something heinous, and what causes someone to act out in a way that intentionally breaks a law?” he asks.  

    “Some people are just vile to the core,” I answer.  His father is certainly a prime example of that.  

    He nods, seeming to be more distracted by playing with my hair.  It’s started to get noticeably long.  I think he’s enjoying it more.  

    “I agree,” he says.  “There are certainly people who only want to watch the world burn, but for everyone else?” 

    I look at him.  “I assume you’re going to tell me,” I say. 

    His hand leaves my hair, a shake of his head.  “I want to hear your thoughts.  Clearly, you’ve been paying attention to me."  

    In more ways than one.

    Focus. 

    I can only hope I can properly get my point across.  It’s one of those things that feels easy to explain in my head, but not aloud.  “I guess...in the case of -I’ll go with murder- that isn’t in self-defense, something clearly went wrong in that person’s life.  Something that wasn’t in their control, and sure, maybe down the line they had more control, but there had to have been something that led them there in the first place.  I sincerely doubt most people just up and decide to murder.  Something went wrong, was left unchecked for any number of reasons or barriers, and…” I shrug.  I don’t know that I have the words necessary to convey what I mean.  

    Plus, there’s always the nuance of mental health problems, which is something I certainly do not have any expertise in to have any sort of educated opinion on. 

    “What about something like theft?” he follows up. 

    I begin to answer, but hesitate when I notice someone walking directly for us, my heart picking up in my chest.  

    Alakazam turns to the person, a flash of his eyes, and the person swerves away from the bench at the last second.  All the while, Saturn’s eyes never leave me. 

    “I...need a more narrow definition,” I say, returning my attention to Saturn.  “I would have far more sympathy for a person who is stealing something essential to survival, than I would for someone who is...I don’t know.  Stealing a car or stealing money from their employees by underpaying them.” 

    He laughs lightly, resuming playing with my hair.  “You’ve been spending too much time with me,” he teases. 

    I roll my eyes and push against him.  “Because I have so much choice in the matter.”  I probably should have sounded far more bitter about it.  Instead, it just came out as an objective fact.  No anger or remorse.  Just pure acceptance. 

    He hums.  “What if our hypothetical person stole that car to pay for an expensive medical treatment?” he asks. 

    At that, I nod.  It’s certainly not something common here in Sinnoh, where medical care is a right, but I do know that in regions like Unova and Alola, it isn’t.  Sure, while things could always stand to be more affordable here, over there, even a minor medical issue might as well be a death sentence.  

    “I would have far more sympathy then, but I mean, I’ve clearly never been in that sort of position, so I don’t know that it’s even okay for me to pass judgement.”  I shrug again, pushing against him.  “Really, at the end of the day, I know one of your core beliefs is that corporations are the devil.” 

    He laughs again, moving his arm completely over my shoulder.  

    It may be cool outside, but I’m burning next to him.  

    “What about you?” he asks.  “What do you believe?” 

    Distracted by his arms around me, it takes me a moment to gather my thoughts.  I want to phrase this as best I can; to let him know I’m on his side in this matter.  Unfortunately, I know I’m missing all sorts of context and history, making it that much harder to fully articulate my point.  

    Speeches never were my strong point. 

    “Like I’ve been saying, I think something went wrong in our society.  Greed took a hold of everything, and it just kept getting reinforced to the point where change just...feels impossible.  Just as any kind of progress starts to get made, it’s just as quickly pulled out from under our feet, making people lose hope.  People get convinced to fight each other, rather than fight the oppressors because it’s easier.” 

    He nods.  “One step forward, two steps back,” he says. 

    I hum in response, not entirely satisfied with the analogy.  “I think...I think it’s more like, ‘Meet me in the middle’ demands the unjust man.  You take one step forward in good faith, while he takes one back in bad faith.  The unjust man again demands, ‘meet me in the middle.  You’re not meeting me in the middle’.  You take another step, and the cycle continues until where you’re standing is where the unjust man was originally standing.  The middle is no longer the middle...and it hasn’t been the middle in a long time.” 

    I might have even surprised myself with that one. 

    He nods in agreement, but has no response one way or the other beyond it.  

    We sit in silence for a long time after that, Alakazam continuing to mitigate the people around us.  Now and then I catch bits and pieces of people’s conversations, and the adverts on the large billboards continue in an endless cycle, but none of it is really of any use to me.  It’s a wednesday.  The local sports teams all still suck. 

    The most interesting bit I get is when I overhear something about the champion not being seen in public for over three months now.  

    I haven’t thought about Cynthia in a long time.  

    Which is interesting, because I decidedly had a stint for a while where I couldn't stop thinking about her.  I had been surrounded by pretty women all my life thanks to the contest circuit, but she...she awoke something in me without even meaning to. 

    Something about remembering how drop-dead gorgeous I found her while sitting next to Saturn is making me feel... guilty.  

    Beside me, Saturn moves as though he’s about to say something, but a small buzz from the wrist around me snags his attention.  As he tilts the device towards himself to read, I avert my eyes.  He’s never told me I have to, but it’s not a conversation I feel like risking. 

    He grumbles.  “Pushy man,” he says. 

    An order of some kind from Cyrus.  

    I can feel my heart sinking in my chest, knowing that means our outing is coming to an end.  

    Withdrawing from my side, Saturn stands, offering his hand out to me.  “I had hoped I would have more time for you today, but it seems my luck has run out,” he says.  

    I take his hand, standing close when he pulls me to my feet.  “Today was nice,” I tell him.  My heart flutters when he smiles at me.

    Without warning, Alakazam brings us back to the room.  The change in temperature almost feels enough to burn me.  

    “I have a different outing in mind for next time, so I want you to take it easy for the rest of the day.  If I can get this under control, I’ll be back before you know it,” he says, squeezing my hand.  

    Alakazam takes him away before I even have the chance to form a response.  

    I should have looked at his watch to see what the message was.  I hate being so in the dark about what he’s up to.  I hate not knowing where he’s at, or if he’s even safe.  I hate not knowing if he’s going to come home to me or not. 

    Home…?

    Oh no. 

    A week drags by before it’s time for my next outing. 

    I had been told to dress comfortably, but before I could even make a sarcastic comment about how much of a selection my wardrobe offered, Saturn was gone, his mood all morning unreadable.  

    When he returns around noon, he has Admin with him.  As always, their Abra peeks their head over their shoulder like a little backpack.  They’re dressed more casually.  A grey sweatshirt with a small Galarian Slowbro print and black jeans.  Hard to match much of anything with the seafoam hair, I suppose.  

    “You’ll be going with Admin today,” Saturn tells me. 

    It would be my first time being alone with Admin since they were the one who only brought me food back in the holding cell.  I have to suppress the shudder I feel crawling up my back.  Knowing Admin is solely on Saturn’s side, they won’t hurt me.  I know this. 

    “Are you coming with us?” I ask. 

    He shakes his head, glancing at Admin, something of an inside joke clearly being shared between them in the moment.  “Knowing my inability to not run my mouth, I’d probably end up saying too much,” he says, getting a small chuckle from them.  

    Admin shrugs.  “Besides, it’s far more personal for me, and I can always use an excuse to get away from Jupiter for a day,” they add. 

    “Have fun, you two,” Saturn says before Abra teleports us away. 

    Abra isn’t nearly as skilled at keeping my vertigo at bay.  I involuntarily stumble, trying to catch my balance that isn’t even lost.  My stomach twists and churns, but Admin is there, reaching out to give me a supportive hand.  

    “Let me know when you’re ready,” they tell me, soothing circles on my back. 

    Thankfully, it’s quick to abate.  No longer am I at risk for losing my lunch, and so long as there’s enough time between our next teleport, I should be fine.  

    As my mind begins to settle, the sounds and senses around me start to come into focus.  A loud, excited chatter.  Names and numbers being called over an intercom.  The sounds of pokemon practicing their moves.  A cleaning chemical with a smell I only ever associate with one place: a contest hall.  

    Looking around us, I quickly realize we’re not in just any contest hall, either.  We’re in the main Hearthome City Contest Hall.  It’s been a long time since I was last here, but the sheer size of the lobby is a dead-giveaway.  

    “Allow me to welcome you back into your domain,” Admin says, the smallest of smiles on their face. 

    Pushing through the last bit of my nausea, I can’t help but smile.  All the other outings have been nice, but this one...this can’t be beat.  I’ve spent so much of my life in and around contest halls, it almost feels like coming home.  Anymore excited and I just might start crying. 

    “Do you know who is competing today?” I ask as they gently push me along. 

    What their Abra lacks in managing my vertigo, he more than makes up for in his psychic abilities otherwise.  Despite the crowded hall, not a single person pays us any mind; and surely of all places, my presence -or sudden reappearance of- would be noticed. 

    At first, Admin merely shrugs.  “A bunch of nobodies, really.”  When they side-eye me, however, I just know they’re going to say a name that will upset me.  “Winston Vanderbilt, for example-” 

    The name alone is enough to make me nauseous all over again.  “ Ugh, Arceus, not that guy,” I interrupt.  

    An old family feud of sorts that I fell victim to.  Though, to my own credit, I had tried to break the cycle.  It all had always seemed stupid and pointless.  Arguing for the sake of relatives who were long dead to the point of not even being relatives, but ancestors.   No matter how nice I was to Winston over the years, the dumb man was always ready to put me down.  Just the sight of his stupid blond head or that snobby Skuntank of his would be enough to make me see red. 

    I shove Admin in a joking way.  “If you were bringing me here to torture me, mission accomplished,” I add. 

    To my absolute surprise, Admin laughs.  Genuinely laughs.  There’s even a small psychic ripple from Abra that feels like a laugh.  

    Admin leans closer.  “Can I tell you a secret?” they ask as we slip past the guards to the backstage areas.  

    As if I can’t already see exactly where this is going, Mx. ‘You learn a lot of unfortunate things by training psychic pokemon exclusively’.  “If you tell me he’s interested in me in any way-” 

    “He wants to fuck you so bad- it’s all he thinks about!” they say with a laugh. 

    I make a fake gagging sound, not even willing to entertain that scenario for even a second.  I’d sooner go completely celebate for the rest of my life than think about touching him.  “ No- ew! I said mission accomplished!” 

    Hand to their mouth, Admin does their best to smother their amusement.  

    It’s definitely the most animated I’ve ever seen them.  Maybe we both missed the contest hall.  And even though it’s all at my expense, I can’t help but enjoy it.  I’ll put up with it for now if it gives them a chance to put down whatever wall they’ve been keeping up around me for so long.  

    The backstage is far more quiet than the main hall.  Hushed whispers and an electric hum from all the various cameras and stage equipment is all that surrounds us. 

    Admin clears their throat.  “Forgive me.  I saw his name when I glanced at the contestant list for the day, and couldn’t resist,” they say, unintentionally giving me the perfect in.  

    I nudge them, keeping at their side.  “I’ll forgive you if you tell me why Saturn wouldn’t come with us.  Beyond being busy with commander stuff,” I add. 

    They shrug.  “Like he said, if he came with us, he would very likely have said far too much for his own good,” they answer. 

    “But what does that mean?” I ask. 

    They look at me for a long second.  “You don’t have that figured out?” they ask. 

    I give them a questioning look.  “No?” 

    They hum.  “At this point I guess I should just call it stupidity rather than restraint.  After all, it’s why Cyrus hates him.  He’s always considered Saturn to be weak when it comes to his emotions,” they answer, though, it’s more of a train of thought non-answer.  

    I’ll have to circle back later, because now I have a new question I need to ask.  “You know...if Cyrus hates him so much, how is he second in command?” I ask. 

    Admin comes to a halt in the hallway, and I nearly bump into them.  The look they give me is so utterly exhausted.  A lifetime of frustration behind their grey eyes.  “Dawn...you will do yourself a lot of favors if you don’t try to understand their weird-ass family dynamics.  I had to stop trying a long time ago.  It’s just….” They sigh.  “Dawn, I need you to understand that, at any given moment, it’s at least 8 layers of fucked up.  Leave it at that, and you’ll spare yourself plenty of headaches.” 

    I had already inferred that much, but it was nice to have some outside validation.  

    We continue up a flight of stairs, and come upon a viewing area.  Admin comes to a stop, their hands lingering on the railing. 

    Both our eyes are immediately drawn down to the field, where a man named Aiden and his Wigglytuff, Bruiser, have just been introduced.  For a few appeals, we merely stand there, watching.  Nothing more than a hum of interest here and there. 

    All the while, something tugs at the back of my mind.  Something I’m forgetting.  Something I know will upset me once I remember it; but I have to work through the feeling.  I want to stay in this moment as long as I can.  

    Leaning further over the railing, Admin finally speaks.  “You and I have competed against each other before,” they tell me. 

    I look at them.  They’re much closer than I was expecting.  I realize it might be the first time I’ve really had a chance to study them up close.  “We have?” I ask. 

    They nod, not taking their eyes off the field.  “Plenty of times.  We only battled twice, but we’ve been in many contests together.”  They finally look back at me.  “Battle rounds were always my weakest area.” 

    Whereas they were my strongest area, both in terms of sheer strength as well as my ability to combine power with beauty.  

    For the life of me, however, I can’t think of ever competing against them.  With their face so close, I wish I could remember.  But nothing about the sharp features of their face brings up memories of anyone from my past.  

    “The Association wouldn't use the correct pronoun, would they?” I ask.  

    They shake their head, returning their attention to the crowd below us.  The Blastoise’s spray causes a small rainbow effect, and the crowd eats up the appeal.  Of everyone we have seen so far, my bets are on them. 

    “They refused to use a singular they for me.  They insisted on using my assigned pronouns, and would only call me by a name that wasn’t mine.  Wouldn’t even give me the decency of using the name I picked before Admin.” 

    I catch myself about to ask what the name was, to better help place who they are, but I just as quickly realize that it’s not a good idea.  Like Saturn’s given name, I have no use for it.  

    A sigh escapes me, instead.  “You’re not the only person who I’ve heard that from,” I tell them. Unfortunately, it’s a story I’ve heard all too often.  

    Even when a person was able to get their trainer and contest licenses updated to reflect the correct name and gender, the association had too many announcers who would conveniently “forget” and would announce the wrong name over the loudspeakers.  

    It always upset me, and so I can’t even imagine what it must have felt like for the person in the moment.  

    I should have been better to my competitors and stood up for them.  Being a Berlitz, I had a prominent platform.  A platform I clearly failed to ever use properly. 

    “And isn’t it sad? An organization that prides itself on inclusivity won’t even do something as simple as use a singular they, or a different name.  Childhood nicknames are treated with more respect than name changes,” they continue.  

    I’m unsure of what to say in response that would actually be assuring.  Anything I come up with just sounds patronizing, or self-serving.  “It’s pathetic,” I say, figuring it’s all I really can. 

    “We give them countless hours of work, and they won’t even give us the most basic decency,” they say, an edge to their voice, and their knuckles pale on the railing.  Understandably, it’s a sore subject for them. 

    I want to reach out to them, but I’m unsure if it’s the right thing to do, or if it would even be welcomed.  Just because they’ve laughed around me a few times today doesn’t mean we’re suddenly best buddies.  “You deserved better than that,” I say.  

    Abra hums what sounds like an agreement, and just like that, Admin’s shoulders relax.  “While appreciated, I don’t need your validation,” they say. 

    I won’t begrudge them that. 

    The judges have launched into their ratings by the time Admin pushes themself off the railing.  “I’ve got more to show you,” they say.  

    We continue to work our way through the back areas of the contest hall, never really stopping anywhere in particular.  Instead, Admin is content to simply tell me about how they’ve dug through financial records of the association, finding further proof of how they’ll say one thing in public, but do the complete opposite in private. 

    The association that prides itself on diversity and inclusivity is the number one donor to biggoted elected officials.  

    By the end of our outing, I’m not only disgusted with the association, but also with myself.  I’ve given them so many hours, I might as well have contributed to the causes that have hurt and put down those around me.  

    The afternoon contest has ended by the time we make it back to the main hall.  Despite knowing the dark underbelly of the contest association, the buzz from the arena leaves me with an emotional charge I had nearly forgotten about.  I’m not even competing and there’s a noticeable rush of energy under my skin.  

    Now is as good of a time as any.  “You know, you never answered my first question.  About Saturn,” I point out, turning my attention away from one of the screens showing highlights from the morning.  

    Admin hums.  “Let’s see...you’ve been doing contests since you were what...13 or 14?” they ask. 

    I nod.  “14.” Professionally, anyway.  I had been practicing for years with my mom beforehand, and my first few contests were with her pokemon. 

    My mom…

    Oh. 

    That’s who I was forgetting all afternoon. 

    My own mother.  

    My own fucking mother. 

    “And how long has Saturn said he’s kept an eye on you?” Admin follows up, dragging me away from my inevitable spiral. 

“At least...Since I beat Mars at the Valley Windworks,” I answer, almost mechanically. 

    The grin, a jerk of their shoulders telling me they’re holding back a laugh.  “What a liar,” they say. 

    When I give them a confused look, they’re quick to amend themself.  “Okay, okay, sure, Commander Saturn has kept an eye on you since then.  Saturn has had his eyes on you for much longer.” 

    “I’m not following,” I tell them. 

    They lean in close, a devilish grin on their face. “You should ask him sometime about the Sandgem Conference from when he and I were 16.   I’m sure he’ll love to tell you all about it.” 

    Something about it makes my heart flutter.  

    The guttural roar of a pokemon distracts the both of us, drawing our attention away. 

    Bounding towards us is a Luxray.  It stops just short of us, looking around, frantic, nose in the air.  Any other time, I would have simply thought it was just a wayward pokemon.  One that wandered off from its trainer and got overwhelmed.  It happens in larger contest halls all the time.  

    It’s the voice that calls after the pokemon that makes me realize: I know this Luxray.  I’ve known this Luxray since she was a Shinx, which means I know who this Luxray belongs to. She belongs to- 

    “Freya! Get back here!” 

    Looking just over the pokemon’s head: Lucas. 

    Lucas. 

    My friend. 

    Lucas- he’s- 

    Admin instantly has a thunder grip on my arm.  “We have to go.” 

    I pull away without a second thought.  “Lucas.”  My voice is weak.  I can’t breathe. It’s been so long-- 

    He looks worn out as he catches up to his pokemon.  Dark circles under his eyes.  His whole posture is slouched.  His hair is getting long.  His suit looks barely put together.  He does not want to be here.  Why is he here?

    “Freya, what’s gotten into you?” he asks his pokemon. 

    She begins pawing at the ground, looking around in our direction, a low rumble of a growl. 

    Can...Can she see us?

    My whole body starts to shake. 

    He puts his hand on his pokemon’s back.  “Freya, please.  You did this to me back in Jubilife- what? What do you smell? ”

    So that’s something neither Abra nor Alakazam seem to be able to hide.  Scent.  

    Just as I dare to step forward, Admin jerks me back once more.  “Dawn, leave him.” An edge to their voice I’d never heard before, and if I wasn’t so worked up, I might have been scared.  

    “ Lucas, ” I say, tears falling on their own accord.  

    My friend.  I haven’t seen him in so long. Is he worried about me? Is that why he looks so exhausted?  He said Jubilife- was he there last week as well? Did I miss him?  Did I miss Freya finding my smell-

    It’s when Lucas looks up, right at me -right through me- that I find myself struggling to stand.  He’s right there.  If Admin would just let go, I could run to him.  Run straight into his arms where he could hold me. Where I could let him know I’m safe. Where he could tell Barry I’m safe.  He could tell my mom that I’m safe.  He could-- 

    Luxray steps away from Lucas, right towards me.  Just as her nose is ready to touch me, Admin orders Abra to get rid of her.  

    In a quick psychic blast, Freya is sent flying with a scream into the opposing wall.  

    “ No-!” 

    And we’re gone.  

    I fall to the ground right as we return back to the room.  To my holding cage.  My stupid, upgraded holding cage.  

    Between the nausea and pain in my chest, I don’t hold back a scream.  

    In an instant, Saturn is down on the ground with me, trying to put a hand on my back.  

    I swat him away, feeling my nails dig into his bare arm, as I tumble over onto my side.  “ Get away from me!”  

    He backs off, but looks up at Admin.  “What happened?” he asks in a snarl. 

    I’m going to puke. 

    I’m absolutely going to puke.  Too many emotions.  Too much vertigo.  My mouth feels like it’s swirling with spit.  I have to get off the floor.  I won’t lie down in my vomit.  

    Whatever sound I make as I try to haul myself up forces Saturn to grab me and drag me roughly to the bathroom, depositing me down in front of the toilet barely in time. 

    If there is one feeling on this planet I hate, it’s the feeling of throwing up.  The burn. The smell. The way every muscle in my throat hurts during and after.  The sounds. Vile.  Absolutely vile.  

    Somewhere in the midst of it all, I manage to keep crying.  

    The toilet flushes.  

    I’m too disoriented to tell if Saturn did it, or I did it without thinking. 

    At least the smell is gone.  

    “ Tell me what happened!” Saturn demands from the doorway.  

    “He wasn’t supposed to be there!  I triple checked the schedules!  He wasn’t on the list all week! He must have shown up to do a walk-in appeal.” 

    Saturn doesn’t ask for clarification on whoever he is.  He likely understands.     

    Taking me to a contest hall was a huge risk, after all. 

    “Get out of my sight,” Saturn says.  

    I can’t check to see if they leave.  My stomach convulses again, and this time it’s nothing but stomach acid.  The edges of my vision begin to blur as I cough my way through more purging. 

    Saturn is down next to me, pulling my hair back from my face.  “Calypso is busy.  I’m sorry,” is all he offers me. 

    He holds my hair.  Rubs my back.  

    I nearly pass out against the toilet in what surely is the most humiliating sight.

    “Stay with me,” Saturn urges.  

    The vertigo finally falls away, and I let go of my death grip on the toilet’s rim, falling back against Saturn.  Leaned against the shower, he pulls me into his chest, and together we just sit on the cold tile floor.  Miserable.  

    “I’m sorry.” 

    I should tell him to bite my ass.  I should fight back some more.  I should go back to demanding my freedom, and fighting him at every turn. 

    Instead, I believe him.  

Like some kind of brainwashed fool, I believe him.  I believe he’s actually sorry.  I fill in the gaps and tell myself that he genuinely is sorry for putting me through this.  That whatever I’m actually here for has to be worth this.  

    He finally pushes against me, forcing me to sit on my own.  He disappears for only a moment, returning with a clean glass, filling it up with water from the sink.  “Rinse,” he directs, offering me the glass.  

    After spitting out the water into the toilet, he’s handing me the glass again, this time with a bit of blue mouthwash in it.  

    It burns. 

    When I’m done, he kneels down to pick me up.  I’m too weak to fight it.  With a grunt, he has me up in a bridal carry.  

    The sheets have been changed since this morning.  A softer t-shirt texture sheet.  It’s far warmer than the other ones he had been swapping through.  

    He eases me down into the bed, avoiding eye contact.  Guilty.  

    He should be. 

    I’m too tired to get myself adjusted under the covers.  I’ll sleep above them for all I care.  

    Saturn seems to care, at least, trying his hardest to help me.  

    “Sleep.  I’ll try to get some food in you later, but for now, sleep. Today was too much.” 

    A direction I have little trouble following. 

    I’m out before he even has a chance to dim the lighting.  

    When I wake up, I have a strong case of cottonmouth, and my head is pounding.   

    No sooner is Alakazam in the room, a tray of miso and rice with him.  He sets it on the table for me, and dips his head in what seems like an apology.  

    I can’t bring myself to look at him, only thank him and stare down at the floor.  On the bedside table is a glass of water and a bottle of some generic pain reliever.  I down two tablets and the entire glass before moving over to my meal.  

    Late lunch. Early dinner.  I’m not sure.  

    As I eat, the events of the day play on a nonstop loop in my mind.  

    Lucas…  

    I have a lot to think about.  

    Wherever Saturn sleeps tonight, it’s not with me. 

    By the time I manage to fall asleep again, he’s still not back.  When I wake up, the room is just as empty…