Chapter Text
I'm staring at the ceiling when I open my eyes. For a long moment I just stare blankly. It was still kinda dark. A thin sliver of light cuts across the far wall signaling the sun rise. I should just go back to sleep.
Instead, I fling off the covers and sit up. There's audible grumbling from the nearby form now covered by the blanket. I chuckle mischievously. Sliding off the bed, I stand up and stretch. My back and neck crack with with a pop each.
It's early but I might as well get ready. Making my way to the closet, I skim through the shirts and dresses that line the hangers. There's a purple and gold plaid dress shirt that is calling my name but as I pinch the fabric between my fingers, I realize that it's not really something I wanna wear for an extended amount of time. Even if it would look really good.
I have a really soft, green and cream flannel though. It's still kinda cold but not too cold. So I might use it as a light jacket with a long sleeve shirt. I grab a few things and stand in front of my mirror to model them. I look at my face in the reflection and can't help but be surprised at how young I look... What? That thought leaves me slightly off kilter.
Why am I surprised? Thoughtlessly, I drop the clothes to the floor. There's a quiet rustling behind me but I ignore it. I look into the mirror more critically. Light brown skin, thick eyebrows that furrow together as I focus, black mid-length curly hair pulled back into a ponytail. No matter how I look at it, nothing seems particularly wrong.
I lean in even closer. Charming dimples that appear when I smile, red eyes that crinkle... Red eyes? Since when have my eyes been- they've always been red. Suddenly a sick sense of nausea washes over me as I stumble back from the mirror. I cover my face and crouch into a ball.
Despite every memory I have telling me that my eyes are red, I'm left with the sickening feeling that they're supposed to be brown. Something's wrong, my eyes are wrong. I'm wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. My limbs are too short. Why would they be longer?
This isn't my room. I've never lived anywhere else. The world narrows to a pin prick and I can't hear anything over the sound of blood in my ears. My nails bite into the flesh of my arms and I squeeze my eyes shut. I think I might be crying. Crying out of red eyes that aren't mine.
The feeling of incongruence is indescribable. Is this what dying feels like? Painful in a wretched and terrible way. I can feel everything and I know that everything is wrong. My very soul feels as though it has been misaligned. This is isn't my body. Who am I? My eyes. Aren't. Red.
Am I going to feel like this forever? As that horrid thought crosses my mind, the torment that might be the rest of my life lessens as someone calls out my name. When I come back to myself, I'm on my knees, curled over myself with my forehead pressed to the floor. Tears spill ceaselessly and my breaths come in wheezing gasps. My head throbs in time with my rapid heartbeat.
'Harper! Please, say something! You're scaring me.' The voice sounds young and tearful and familiar and also like it's in my head. Unfurling my arms from around myself, and wincing slightly as my nails stop biting into my arms, I brace against the floor and push myself up unsteadily.
I suppose the voice takes this as a positive sign as they immediately try to help me up. Given how small they are, they aren't much help.
" 'M fine, Wave." My voice is weak and hoarse with tears. The existential dysphoria (??) has softened significantly but still lingers. I don't sound convincing in the slightest and the Oshawott trying to help me up makes that very clear. He glares at me.
'Say that when you stop crying.'
I wipe at my eyes and scoff a weak laugh before I force myself up onto shaking legs. The shirts are still piled on the floor where I dropped them. I don't bother to pick them up. Wave follows behind me as I stagger back to the bed. I flop back onto the mattress and pull the blanket over myself completely.
'I'm going back to sleep.' I send through the mental link and I feel the little Pokemon's anxiety immediately in response. 'Do you, is there anything- how, how can I help?' Wave flounders audibly. As exhausted as I am, he's my partner and I know he just wants to help so I throw him a bone. 'Can you get me a painkiller? If Mom asks just tell her I'm okay.'
I know Wave can't actually speak any human language but mom is bound to ask him if I'm okay and all he needs to do is nod. I can feel unease creep through the bond. Neither of us liked to lie to Mom but alas what could be done?
After a long moment, I can hear the soft padding of Wave's flippers as he walks to the door. Then the door opens and I wait a few seconds before I let out a tired sigh and murmur to myself. "Had I known I'd end up suffering like this, I would have picked the drop-in background."
By the time Wave gets back, I'm half way to sleep. Turns out mental breakdowns are physically and mentally exhausting too. But I persist long enough to take the pill the little otter Pokemon hands me. I reluctantly sit up just enough to swallow the pill with a gulp of water from the glass Wave offers me. How did he carry both with his tiny little paws? I doze off to the image of Wave waddling along with a glass on top of his adorable, round head.
When I wake up for the second time, I'm even more reluctant to get up. My head still thrums with a faint headache. Another painkiller would probably fix it. I sat up slowly with extreme reluctance.
Wave was immediately at my side. The little Oshawott stared at me with tear filled eyes as it clung to my arm. 'Harper!' he nuzzles his round head into my arm as he cries. Through our shared bond I can feel his anxiety, fear and anguish. It's a strange feeling, feeling someone else's emotions so closely.
I can only imagine how horrible the emotions I accidentally projected to him were. Poor little guy, probably thought I was dying. I thought I was dying. In a way, I think I did. The twelve year old version of me I mean. I grimace. I don't wanna think about that right now. Time to compartmentalize.
Rubbing at my dry eyes, I pet Wave with my other hand. His fur is soft. 'I'm sorry for worrying you.' The little otter looks up with wide, adorable eyes, still crying. 'Wha- what happened? Did something hurt you?'
Hm. How to explain that 20+ years of life experience and memories just utterly crushed the ego of a 12 year old version of me? That the sheer revulsion of existing in a body that was mine but also wasn't nearly shattered my mind. That the discomfort still loomed just beneath the surface, and that coupled with the guilt of possibly killing another version of myself for something as childish as getting a Pokemon, my mental health was already teetering on the edge.
The little Oshawott starts to cry again and hugs me as tight as he can. I give a wry smile and close my eyes. It's so hard to keep the negative emotions from leaking through. I need to get that in check soon. The only upside is that it seems like I need to project my thoughts with at least some intent to get them across accurately.
I rub the little pokemon's back and try to project some reassurance. I have no idea what information I might have just slipped him. He may have gotten pure emotion or a few words or sentences. I can only hope it was the former.
A knock startles both of us. And the familiar voice of my mom calls out from behind the bedroom door. "Harper, it's time to get up. I made your favorite." Thankfully she isn't the type of parent who needs to display her authority by coming in without permission. I ignore the feelings that come with having a mom and not a dad.
"Okay, I'll be down in a minute." My voice, miraculously, doesn't crack when I reply. I hear her footsteps shuffle away and close my eyes. Sucking in a deep breath, I give myself 30 more seconds to set my head on straight. My head hurts, my eyes feel like they've been sanded down with sandpaper, and I'm tired. I don't wanna get up, but I got shit to do.
I tap Wave's head. 'We gotta get up.' The Oshawott shakes his head. 'We don't have to go today.' he looks up at me with pleading eyes. 'We can just go back to sleep and try again tomorrow, Mom will understand.'
I huff a laugh. Mom would understand. 'Mom isn't the only one to worry about. Pretty sure Jewels is the only one who won't threaten to break my legs if I postpone.'
Wave scoffs. 'you can't journey with them if they break your legs. Not that I would let that happen to begin with!' That actually gets a laugh out of me. 'Nonsense! They'd be more than willing to carry me.' After a brief pause, I promise him, 'We'll talk about it later.' That seems to placate him for now.
I slide out from the blanket. The little Pokemon squeaks in protest as I stand on, slightly, wobbly legs. First thing's first "Time to get dressed."
Wave had moved the clothes I dropped into a small pile towards the left side of the mirror. If I'm being honest, any positive feelings I may have had for the clothes disappeared the moment my psyche almost shattered. Which sucks because one of the hoodies 12 year old me, hence forth known as little me, liked a lot was in that pile. Rip to that hoodie I guess.
I sigh and move to my dresser that sits to the right of the mirror. As I pull open the first drawer, I spot a leather bound notebook on top of the clothes inside. Whose notebook? Oh, my generous host was living up to their moniker and gave me the notebook I'd written my notes in. I murmur a half hearted thanks and move it to the top of the dresser.
Wait, if the notebook is here, what about my clothes and phone? After opening and shutting a few drawers, I find my hoodie, shorts and leg warmers. Cool. I look around for my bag. I could've sworn it was by my bed but I find it hanging on my door knob. Mom probably put it there.
It's your standard two strap physics defying bookbag, the only difference being the color which was a muted purple. I shove the clothes into the key items section. Behind me, Wave speaks up. 'That's not what you're wearing?' he sounds confused. "Nope." I don't bother to elaborate.
I dig through the pocket and find my phone. When I click the power button, the screen powers to life and I'm met with a picture of my dog, Harley, as my wallpaper. And my heart aches at the sight. It's been less than a day and more than a decade all the same. The date and time are still frozen to the minute I was abducted offered this chance of a lifetime. The battery is still at a pitiful 36%, and without a charger I'm not willing to test if it will last, so I power it down completely.
It's definitely not gonna last the next decade but maybe I can make it last a few months. I shove it back into the pocket and zip it up. I move back to the dresser and restart my search in earnest. After a few minutes, I settle on a pair of oversized, dark teal, cargo pants. The well loved garments sported a few gold embroidered four-pronged stars that covered small holes.
They are blessedly drawstringed, so I don't need to find a belt. After putting them on I move back to my closet. Nothing really stands out. "Any thoughts?" Wave waddles over and scrutinizes the clothing selection. He gestures with his little paws for me to flip through some of the clothes and I do.
'Stop!' he points to a white dress, 'That one.' I grab the dress and look at it, cocking my head back and forth. "When did I even get this dress?" It's a white sleeveless mock neck. I hold it up to myself and it stops a little past mid-thigh.
'Your dad got it for you last Christmas, remember?' Oh, I remember. The mention of my absentee father causes a faint irritation to bubble up. I was tempted to chuck the dress in the trash despite how cute it was. Wave knows I wouldn't want wear something he got me but we both have to admit it's cute. It was strange. I had no personal issue with the man(I might even be the cause of his absentee behavior) but it seems like little me's thoughts and feelings were still able to influence me. That's good to know.
"It's cold outside though?" Wave shrugs. 'Wear a jacket?' I guess that was an option. I don't even need to look to know which jacket to pick. I grab it and shut the closet behind me. It's a thick and oversized reversible jacket. Blue on one side, pink on the other. The blue side was showing currently.
It was my absolute favorite jacket because it was big, the pockets were deep, and it was warm and durable. After changing into my chosen outfit, I picked up all the discarded clothes and threw them into the laundry basket. Bless my mom for putting up with my bullshit and cleaning up after me.
I grab my bag and stuff the journal into it. No need to leave something so suspicious behind. I shoulder my bag and hold the door for the otter Pokemon to follow.
After stopping in the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my face (read: clear up the tear streaks), and grab some spare toiletries to stuff in my bag, I head downstairs. Mom is already at the dining room table doing something or the other with her laptop. "Took you long enough," she looks up at me and her eyes crinkle with a smile, "thought you fell asleep again."
I smirk and drop my bag. I hold out my arms to show her my outfit. Her eyes widen slightly at the dress. "That's the dress your father bought you." She almost sounds happy. Too bad I'm about to spoil that. I nod with a bright smile.
"And guess what it doesn't have." My voice is deceptively cheerful. Immediately my mom groans and pinches the bridge of her nose.
"Pockets?" She questions with a tired sigh.
"Pockets!" The anger may not wholly be my own but I now feel it is justified. Who buys dresses in this day and age that don't have pockets? It sucks that I actually like it. Maybe I'll add some during my future downtime.
I sit down and dig into the glorious spread of scrambled eggs, French toast and bacon my angel of a mother prepared. Wave had already started eating while I was being petulant. "You don't have to wear it." Mom says as if to placate a child. Which I technically am.
"I've already committed." I say through a mouthful of French toast. She stares at me a moment, her eyes searching for something. I can't tell if she finds it or not but she goes back to her laptop soon after. We make some small take through the rest of breakfast. When I'm done, she takes the dishes and starts to wash them in the sink.
I grab my bag and skim through it. I need to check if everything is there and test a few things. Most of the gear I purchased is here. I have a few brief memories of some of it being gifted to me by my father. Uh, neat that I don't have to come up with explanations on why I have certain things.
My Pokedex is missing but I'm not too alarmed. Probably just another thing I'll be given by someone so it has an in-universe explanation. It'll probably be by the professor... What was his name again? It was the name of a tree. Sycamore? Juniper? I shake my head and try to search through my memories. Elm! That was his name.
That took longer than I thought it would. It seems like little me didn't deal with the Pokemon professor often? I guess he's a busy guy and my parents have no connection to him. No real reason for me to go to his lab either, since I got Wave from my dad too. Huh. Maybe I won't get the Pokedex from him. Whatever.
"Should I bring a spare set of clothes?" I'm already getting up by the time I finish the question. I already have my original set of clothes but more couldn't hurt, especially when you had hammer space. Mom tosses an affirmation over her shoulder as I race up the stairs. I promptly trip up the stairs and hit my shin. Fuck that hurt.
"I'm okay!" I call out before anyone can ask if I'm hurt. I clearly do not learn my lesson as I make my way up the rest of the stairs at the same pace. I grab a pair of sweatpants, a long sleeve shirt and short sleeve shirt and into the bag they go. Is there anything else I need? I spin a circle as I look around but I'm drawing a blank.
"Harper, your friends are here!" Mom calls from downstairs and I immediately panic. I rush down the stairs, careful not to trip over nothing and break my neck. "I'm not ready yet! Mom can you braid my hair?" Mom stands at the entrance, the open door obscuring whoever she's talking to outside.
She looks at me incredulously but it's another high pitched voice on the other side of the door that answers. "Oh, come on Harper, You do this every time!"
"You act like I do it on purpose." I don't, I just have bad time management skills. I can feel Wave's judgement as he listens to the exchange.
"You might as well." The female voice, Everest, retorts.
I glare at the door. "Leave me alone." Because that's the response I give when I have well and truly lost the argument. I glare at Wave. 'Don't laugh at me.' The Oshawott merely averts his gaze, still snickering at me. Mom's eyes dart between Everest and I like a ping pong match.
"How much time do you need?" A kinder, calm voice asks. Jewels, ever the mediator, stops us from wasting even more time squabbling. I look to mom for the answer and she thinks for a moment before lightly shrugging. "About 30 to 40 more minutes."
There's audible grumbling but they agree to come back after the agreed time. Not like they could really say much to mom. When she closes the door, she looks at me with a scathing look and I look away on reflex. "She's right Harper, if you wanted me to braid your hair, you should have asked earlier."
"I know, I just forgot." Her glare melts into a soft look and she pulls me into a hug. I hug her back. "I get it. You're going into the world for the first time," her voice starts to sound a bit dreamy and distant, "it's scary and thrilling all at once. It's natural to have a lot on your mind." She pulls back slightly to look down at me.
"I won't be there to look out for you. Of course, I'll only be a call away," she kisses my forehead, "but I can't do your laundry or remind you to feed Wave." Said Pokemon chirps in agreement. Twice he has betrayed me and it shall be paid back in blood. I make sure he can feel the sentiment through the bond and he just responds with amusement.
"Alright," she says as she pulls away from the hug, "go get a brush and some ponytail holders, I need to braid your hair."
After a bit of back and forth, we settle on two braids. Mom is nowhere near as heavy handed as my dad, so it's not as painful an experience. Though I still have a slight headache so it's more unpleasant than it should be. When she's finished, I grab my bag and zip up my jacket.
"Got everything?" I nod my head. "Yeah, I think so." She hums. "Are you sure?" Well, not anymore. I run through the mental checklist in my head but I come up blank. "What am I missing?" Without a word, she turns on her heels and grabs two things off the kitchen counter: my pokégear and my trainer's belt.
"Shit."
"Language."
"Sorry."
She hands me the pokégear which I stuff in my deep jacket pockets. Then she gives me the belt and I fasten it around my waist. Wave's Pokéball is already attached. For now, I keep the little guy out. New bark town was safe enough but I'd reassess once we got to the first route.
After checking through my bag one last time, because I now completely lacked confidence in my memory, I hug my mom again. She hugs me back and we stay like this for a long while.
"Be safe."
"I will. I love you." Saying 'i love you' to a stranger I had ostensibly met just a few hours ago was surreal but she was also my mom, who i'd known all my life.
"I love you too."
With that, I open the door and stepped into new bark town for the first and millionth time.