Chapter Text
It felt like everyone ought to know that Moon Hawkins was the newly crowned champion of Alola, but Gladion, exiting the Aether Foundation's private plane in at the Vermilion Seaport, found that most Kantonians seemed to be simply going about their business. As though the world had not been changed irrevocably; as though there was no way to tell that a major power had emerged triumphant from life's Tapu Bulu-shit.
(God, it was nice to be able to think that without the irritated rumble in the back of his head. The Tapu could reach him if he were needed, but chose not to linger on the other side of the world if he didn't have to and thus Gladion's mind was largely his alone.)
(Oddly, he found he missed the company.)
Customs were, as Wicke had warned him, a bit of a hassle; but he was able to produce all of the necessary paperwork. Imp and Nox were hardly questioned, both being technically native to Kanto; and even Ellie and Rey were only given a mild inspection before being deemed unthreatening. Null, however, was another story.
“What is she, exactly?” inquired the customs clerk, staring doubtfully at Null's crownfeathers, pitch-black as she held the Dark Memory.
“That's classified by the Alolan government,” said Gladion curtly. Null growled softly in agreement. “I have a form of permissions, signed and notarized by both Alolan and Kantonian governments. So if you wouldn't mind, we are quite tired and would like to meet our escort.”
“Right? He's been on the plane for nine and a half hours. Give the man a break.”
Gladion turned and found himself looking into the amused brown eyes of Gary Oak— better known by his nickname, Blue.
“Why do they call you Blue?” he asked.
“Unfortunate incident with some hair dye in elementary school back when I lived in Johto, before my parents died,” said Blue easily. “It washed out after like a week, but the nickname stuck and I got so used to it that it was how I introduced myself everywhere once Daisy and I moved to Kanto. I'm fine, thanks for asking. Nice to meet you, too.”
“Sorry,” mumbled Gladion, feeling color rise to his face. “I'm not usually— I don't like to think I'm rude or anything, I just— feel like I know you already. Moon talks about you a lot.”
Blue's eyes softened. “Oh my god, she didn't say you were shy,” he said, sounding fascinated. “Adorable. Babe, can we adopt him?”
“Would you, for once in your life, shut the fuck up.”
Satoshi Red— who had gone by his surname for his entire professional career and even well before that, according to Moon— elbowed past his boyfriend to stand next to Gladion, staring at the customs clerk who had gone quite pale.
“Ch-champion Red!”
“We've been waiting for an hour,” said Red, his voice even more brusque than Gladion.
“Right,” chirped Blue. “And his plane got in forty minutes ago. It shouldn't take that long for you to jump him through all the hoops, should it? Even if you can't identify his teammate by sight, you should be able to look in the International Pokédex. I can sign you into my account if you need it.”
Red glanced at Gladion. “Assuming your teammate is in the International Dex.”
Gladion nodded.
“N-no need,” stammered the clerk. “Um— what did you say the species name was?”
“Silvally,” said Gladion. “S, I, L, V, A, L, L, Y. If I recall correctly from what Professor Kukui showed me when he made the official entry, she should be seven hundred seventy-three.”
And there she was, with pictures taken on a clean white backdrop in Professor Kukui's basement laboratory. It had been a day trip he'd taken alone, while Moon was climbing Mount Lanakila.
God, he missed Moon. It had only been a day and a half and he already wished he could hold her.
“Thinking about someone special?”
Blue nudged him knowingly. Gladion frowned in lieu of responding, looking down in what he knew was a futile attempt to hide his flush.
“Aww, he takes after you, babe. Are you finished over there?” Blue demanded, turning from Red to the clerk.
“Y-yes, everything seems to be in order...”
“Thank you,” said Gladion politely, because Wicke would kill him with her pinky finger if he were ever rude to service workers of any kind, even if they had been rude first.
“Yes, thank you,” said Blue, with a pronounced eye roll. He picked up Gladion's carryon bag, which held a slim laptop computer that Wicke had gifted him and a few other things— travel pillow, blanket, snacks, and the good headphones that Wicke again had gotten him, back before he had gone with Moon, Lillie, and Hau to Poni Island. Wicke got him a lot of things. “Red, grab the suitcase.”
“I've got it—”
“It would be incredibly rude to let a guest do all the work,” said Blue, interrupting him. Gladion felt his lips thin together automatically, and was therefore surprised at the immediacy of the apology: “Sorry, Moon said you hate that. Also, we're taking the train back to Viridian and we know how to navigate everything, so it will be easier for us to handle your luggage while you just bring your pretty little self along for the ride.”
“He's straight, knock it off.”
“I wasn't even flirting!” protested Blue. “I adore you beyond words, you stupid, lovely man. It was literally just an observation. Gladion is handsome, and Moon has excellent taste. Clearly, given her pre-pubescent crush on both of us at the same time.”
Gladion's eyes widened. “How did you know about that?”
Red rolled his eyes. “She wasn't subtle.”
“She really, really wasn't,” agreed Blue. “And that hasn't changed, has it?”
“Um— no, not really.”
They were given a fairly wide berth through the airport. People clearly recognized them— Red had his signature baseball cap, slung low over his dark hair and stoic expression; and Blue's hair was a coppery orange brown color, which as far as Gladion knew was not native to Kantonians. But nobody approached, though most people smiled or waved.
There were some paparazzi outside of the airport, peering curiously at Gladion; but Blue said loudly as they passed, “This is Moon's boyfriend and if any of you publish anything unauthorized about him, the Aether Corporation will probably sue the shit out of you. Have a nice day!”
There was some mumbling and raised eyebrows, but the reporters and photographers dispersed.
“How do they know who Moon is?”
“She hung out with us, of course. We had a deal with the press because she was underage.” Blue glanced around before lowering his voice. “You're not underage so they could probably write about you and be fine, but I thought you would prefer not to have a bunch of assholes getting in your face all the time. Would Aether back you up on that?”
Gladion nodded. “Amelia gave me public relations cards to pass along to the really persistent ones.” He paused. “The phone number goes to Aether's legal department. Specifically, the one you call if you're a lawyer planning on suing. So they're trained to be aggressive when they answer the phone.”
“I like your Amelia,” commented Red, a flicker of a smile passing over his face.
The train was underground, an entirely foreign concept to Gladion. Already he missed the water, though there had been a bit of it at the seaport; and Moon had warned him that early March in Kanto was cold, but he'd only worn a sweater, thinking it would be enough. He shivered as they descended into the subway.
“It's nearly sunset, it will be full dark by the time we get back to Viridian,” said Blue cheerfully. “I put skewers in the slow cooker this morning. Do you eat imitation meat or do you prefer real?”
“I've eaten real, but I prefer imitation on principle.”
“Oh, good. Moon said you'd eaten both before but I thought I'd be safe.”
Gladion attempted to swallow his shyness. “Moon said—”
There was a shuffle as they purchased subway tickets from machines, Red and Blue going through the motions with credit cards automatically before Blue swiped his a second time for Gladion. The little barriers ate the tickets and let them through the gates. Red lifted Gladion's suitcase over his head as he went through; Blue did the same with his carryon. Gladion followed, hands in his pockets, feeling stupid and useless and tired.
“Moon said what?” Blue prompted him.
“Um, she said I should probably expect to eat more real meat while I'm here.”
“If you'd come six years ago, sure. But imitation's getting more popular, what with Pokémon being, you know— incredibly fucking cute, and all. You'll find more real meat in mainland areas and more imitation on islands or coastlines. So Viridian and Pewter and Cerulean have more real meat than, say, the Seafoam Islands or Vermilion, but everywhere has imitation or vegetarian options.”
“Also,” said Red, waiting until Blue had finished speaking, “Moon didn't get out much.”
“She... didn't?”
“She was poor,” said Blue gently. “You don't travel much, when you're poor. Red and I tried to take her on field trips when we could, and she went on some school trips as well. But she really hasn't seen all of Kanto, not the way you'll have done by the time you're finished.”
That was odd to think about, and Moon hadn't mentioned it. Maybe she didn't feel comfortable talking about money with him, when he was disgustingly wealthy.
The subway was fast, loud, and in Gladion's opinion dirty; but Red and Blue simply ignored all of these things, sitting on either side of him and staring straight ahead (Red) or chattering happily about anything and everything (Blue).
Toward the end, the conversation faded, and Gladion glanced up to discover that Red and Blue seemed to be having some sort of nonverbal conversation behind his back, as he was leaning forward with his head on his elbows in an attempt to alleviate the slight nausea induced by subway travel. He looked back down, studying his own hands.
They already didn't like him, he was sure of it. Moon had done her best, but it simply hadn't been enough.
“My friend Amelia recommended a hotel near the station,” he said, as they emerged from the subway station into Viridian City proper. “Could you tell me where it is?”
Blue rolled his eyes. “Like fuck you're staying in a hotel. We have a guest room, and this might make it weird but the guest room bed has Moon's old mattress.”
“It's not a good mattress,” pointed out Red.
“Yeah no, it's really not. We had to put like, three foam pads on it. But we wanted to keep it, in case she came to visit. She would probably tell us we were being idiots, but I am a creature of sentiment and I intend to remain that way.”
“You don't have to,” protested Gladion, looking down. “I don't want to— to inconvenience you, or anything.”
“You won't.”
When Blue didn't immediately chime in to Red's statement, Gladion looked back up, at both of them. Red regarded him with a level gaze. “You won't,” he repeated. “Moon loves you. That's enough.”
Perhaps it was because he was tired, or perhaps because he had already stressed himself out over the issue; and it was definitely and partially because two months of intense therapy with Dr. Meghan had served to loosen his tear ducts into something vaguely like those of a human— but a stray tear slipped from his eye, and Gladion, mortified, wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater.
“Thanks,” he mumbled. Both Red and Blue, to his relief, politely pretended not to notice him crying.
In any case it was a relief, to not have to think about checking into a hotel. Blue hailed a taxi and they piled in; Gladion was in the middle, as the thinnest. He sent off several quick texts— to Amelia, Arrived at Vermilion Seaport approximately 20 min behind estimated time of arrival. Delayed at customs due to incompetent staff but all is well now. Made contact with Satoshi Red and Blue Oak. They offered me their guest bedroom over a hotel and I accepted.
The text to Moon was more concise: Your brothers are weird.
Lillie received a brief, Made it to Kanto, doing okay, and Hau simply got a meme from the very small collection that Gladion had assembled over the period of time he had owned a smartphone. It had all been transferred over to the Dex that Professor Kukui had so kindly given him, but Hau had claimed in their private chat that everyone needed a meme collection. This particular meme was one that Ki-moon had sent him: a blurry picture of a Murkrow staring at a tombstone, with the caption “I wanna fuckin die” on it.
Hau's response was also a meme: a close-up view of a Shuckle curiously peering at the camera lens, with the caption “excuse me but I was wondering what kind of bullshit this is?”
Gladion actually snorted out loud, which meant it was worthy of saving to his collection. Lillie's return text was simple— “Oh good! Sleep well tonight, love you! ^u^”. She did those closed-eye smiley faces that from anybody else would have been stupid, but they were so very Lillie and he didn't mind them from her.
Thank you for the update, wrote Wicke. That was kind of them. Please offer my thanks as well as your own.
Moon, being Moon, had sent a selfie.
A selfie where she was blowing a kiss at the camera. Gladion hastily closed the picture, feeling his face go scarlet when he heard Blue snickering.
ABORT ABORT BLUE SAW THAT ONE
Omg tell him to stop looking at your phone!!!
They're letting me stay at their apartment. I'm not going to be rude.
Tell him I said he can eat a bag of dicks then. You're just conveying the message lmao
“Moon and Amelia both say thank you for letting me stay at your apartment,” said Gladion, putting his phone away.
“That definitely isn't what she said.”
“Do we need to have the conversation about not reading other people's texts over their shoulders again,” said Red flatly.
Blue pouted. “Nooo, I'll be good.”
They exited the taxi outside of a very, very nice apartment building. It was, Gladion noticed, directly across the street from a building that proclaimed itself to be the Viridian City gym.
“The commute is terrible,” said Blue, noticing his gaze. “Just the worst, really.”
“Can we go the fuck inside yet.” Red had already paid the taxi driver, already hauling Gladion's suitcase and carry-on out of the trunk.
“Oh my god could you be a little fucking patient while I flex my natural comedic chops, thank you very much I love you dear.” He said most of this in one breath; Red merely rolled his eyes, and they went past an actual doorman to make their way to a bank of elevators.
Red unhooked a small key chain from the loop of his jeans. One key went into an appropriate keyhole on the elevator while he pressed a button labeled P.
There was a quiet hiss, and one of the wooden panels on the elevator wall slid backwards and down, revealing a small screen with a keyboard. Gladion watched Red type and realized: he typed the same way Moon did— intense focus, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, slight frown, and quickly enough that his fingers were little more than a blur over the keyboard.
A tiny burst of joy burned away some of the day's fatigue. It was such a little thing, but to see Moon in something innocent like this— it was a gift that he hadn't expected.
The password was accepted, and the keyboard slid back in while the wooden panel replaced it. The elevator doors closed, and they rose.
Instead of a lobby, the elevator opened into the actual apartment. Something sweet and rich filled the air, and Gladion's stomach rumbled in response.
“Do you want to eat right away, or do you need some time to settle?” asked Blue.
“Um, you can eat without me, I don't mind.”
“Nonsense, we'll wait for you. It's only like, five-thirty. Did you want to take a shower or a nap?”
“Shower,” mumbled Gladion.
“Cool. So your room is over here.”
Red had already dragged Gladion's suitcase in the direction that Blue was now steering him, and emerged from the room in question.
“The bathroom is right across the hall, and there's a shower and a bath in there so you can do either,” explained Blue. “And you have it to yourself, because Red and I have a bathroom attached to our bedroom. Now, you may have to deal with the brat occasionally, because for some strange reason he prefers this bathroom, but as long as you check the shower and tub before you get in, you won't be electrocuted.”
“He's not a brat,” said Red grumpily, walking past them.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Pikachu, of course. Who did you think I meant?”
Gladion wasn't quite courageous enough to take a real bath in someone else's home, but the pounding stream of shower water loosened the muscles in his shoulders and back that had tensed up on the plane, subway, and taxi. Upon drying off, getting dressed, and opening the door, he looked down and blinked to see a Pikachu— the Pikachu— sitting on the floor outside the door.
It eyed him warily. “Chu.”
“Um, hi,” said Gladion. “Did you need the— sorry, I'll get out of your way.”
He was pretty sure that it rolled its eyes.
Back in his room, he let his teammates out of their balls. Null promptly laid out flat on the bed, sniffing with teeth bared for a few moments before deciding it was a suitable temporary habitat. Imp divebombed him, which Gladion ducked on instinct.
“Fuck off,” he said grumpily. “I just washed my hair.”
“Cro?”
“I'll ask, but you might have to sleep in your ball if we can't find one.”
Imp shrugged, his wing-bones rippling smoothly with the motion. Rey and Ellie both watched him, waiting for directions; they were by far his best-behaved teammates. It was still strange to see Ellie as a Lucario, since she'd been a Riolu only a few days ago.
He'd kissed Moon for the first time, only a few days ago.
“Brrp beep?” inquired Nox.
“I do not look constipated, shut up.” He gently lifted Nox and let him sprawl gracelessly over one shoulder. “Null, do you want to come out for dinner?”
Null opened one eye, then sighed heavily and rolled off the bed.
Gladion had originally supposed that with twelve Pokémon in residence besides Red and Blue, the apartment was probably a madhouse most of the time; but it seemed as though there were at least twice that number. Blue, a Machamp, an Exeggutor, and a Tyranitar were in the kitchen, all wearing aprons; the Machamp was frying something and expertly flipped it in the frying pan just as the Tyranitar carefully tossed a measuring cup to Blue. The Exeggutor's function seemed to be to hold several spoons and spatulas for the chefs, the handles clamped in its mouth as it had no arms. It seemed oddly short and squat, at least until Gladion remembered that this was how Exeggutor were supposed to look— that it was the Alolan variant that had adapted to an increase in sunlight consumption when they had first been introduced to the region.
The penthouse apartment had clearly been modified for the use of large Pokémon. Gladion could tell that it had once been two stories high and sectioned into rooms, but all that remained of the second story were two lofts in the large, L-shaped open-plan room. One loft was above the guest bedroom and bathroom, with a staircase that led up to it and another staircase that he decided must lead to the roof. The second loft area was at the other end of the apartment. The double doors beneath it probably led to Red and Blue's bedroom, but on that loft were at least five floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, along with two matching desks and desktop computers. Between the two desks was a Pokémon Center PC.
Red sat at one of the desks, his back to the loft; he seemed to be doing paperwork, and was clearly not enjoying himself if his hunched-over posture and ferocious scowl were anything to go by. An Espeon and a Sylveon were curled at his feet, asleep; how they could sleep in all of the noise, Gladion had no idea.
The primary instigators of said noise seemed to be an Alakazam, an Arcanine, and a Charizard. Alakazam and Charizard were both hovering, the first with psychic power and the second with wings; they were playing catch with a large rubber toy of some kind, and the Arcanine clearly wanted to join in but was not being permitted to do so. As a result, the loudest noises in the room had largely to do with its barking. A Pidgeot, an Aerodactyl, a Scizor, and a Heracross were perched on the bookshelves above Red's workspace, watching the drama and clearly enjoying themselves. A large tank along one wall— Gladion estimated it at fifty feet long, twelve feet wide, and nine feet tall— contained a Lapras, a Gyarados, and a Cloyster, all of whom also seemed to be amused by Alakazam and Charizard's game. A single leather couch in front of a television was occupied by a Dragonite, watching the news with interest and occasionally turning up the volume; a Ninetales, cream-gold Kantonian instead of icy-blue Alolan, also seemed to be trying to watch but kept turning to glare at the noisemakers. A Snorlax slept in one corner with a Venusaur drowsily watching the goings on next to it.
“Rhyoo.”
Gladion turned, and hastily stepped out of the way of a Rhyperior, holding a steaming slow-cooker with bare hands— though in all likelihood, it didn't need potholders. The slow-cooker was placed in the center of a dining-room table with four chairs, one with a booster seat on it. A Sandslash was carefully placing plates, utensils and cups; a Blastoise was filling the cups with a pitcher of water that Gladion sincerely hoped was not sourced from its own cannons; and a Magnezone was sitting on top of the refrigerator, magnet-claws detached and pressed over the sides of its screws, as though to shield its nonexistent ears from the hubbub. A corner of the room, within view of Red's desk, was fenced off with baby-gates and contained a clearly sulking Tauros; a crayon-scribbled sheet of paper proclaimed the area to be “The Shame Corner.”
It was a lot of noise. Null was already backing up, ready to retreat to the bedroom; Gladion absently stroked her ruff as she hid her head behind him, nosing up under his sweater. Nox squawked indignantly, and Rey had turned himself invisible though his paw was still hooked around Gladion's forearm.
“Cro?” inquired Imp.
“Absolutely not,” said Gladion firmly, snatching Imp's feet before he could take off. “You stay with me until we're all introduced. Do you want to get bitten?”
“Lu rio,” said Ellie, staring at the upset Arcanine.
“Yes, you may introduce yourself. From over here, please.”
“Zuba cro,” grumbled Imp.
“Because you're a rude little shit, that's why.”
“Babe!” shouted Blue, without turning around. “We're almost done with the Pomelets and Gladion's out of the shower. Can you round up the kids?”
Twenty-three Pokémon turned to look at Blue, then at Gladion and his team.
Gladion swallowed.
“No.”
Red had stood up, and his firm shout had prevented the vast majority from rushing forward to investigate— which was a good thing, because Null would certainly have panicked. She was already bridling, a low growl rumbling in her throat. Gladion bent, gently pressing her head to the ground; he pressed the small muscle that would release the Dark Memory and quickly returned it to the Memory case, replacing it with the Fairy Memory.
He was going to have to tell Red and Blue about Null anyway; and several Memories were more soothing than others. Fairy, Grass, Water, Flying, and Ice were calming, whereas Fire, Electric, Poison, Dark, and Fighting tended to rile her up. She didn't like the Bug Memory at all— probably because of Guzma, somehow. The Ghost Memory, for some reason, made her sneeze.
Null's eyes, tailfin, and crownfeathers lightened from black to white, then faded to shimmery rose-pink.
“Lu rio,” said Ellie primly, crossing the room and offering her hand to the Arcanine with a smile.
“Should I introduce us?” said Gladion hesitantly.
Red's eyes were fixed on Null, but he nodded. “If you don't mind.”
Gladion introduced himself and his teammates as Blue and the Machamp took a massive platter of omelets (“I call them Pomelets, actually, because they're made with a fuckton of imitation egg and have a lot of Pokébeans.”) and a tureen of rice up to the roof. A few of the Pokémon had to be put back into their balls to get onto the flat roof, but Gladion found himself co-opted into scooping rice onto plates as Blue added three omelets to each and set them out in neat rows. There was also a large basin of water with a pump, which Red filled. A few of the Pokémon didn't eat outside— Pikachu, who claimed the booster seat at the table; and the occupants of the tank remained indoors; but several others ate inside or alone— the Ninetails who had been irritated by the noise, Blue's Alakazam, the Magnezone on the fridge, and the Espeon and Sylveon. Gladion's Null, Rey, and Nox had also elected to remain inside— Nox because he was curious about the Magnezone on the fridge; Null and Rey because it was quieter. Ellie and Imp had braved the outdoor feast, wanting to make new friends. The Snorlax hadn't even woken up; and Red said, with a pointed stare at Blue, that with the amount of food that Snorlax alone could pack away it wasn't worth it to bother making rice and Pomelets (Pomurice? Moon always called rice-and-omelets “omurice”) instead of just giving him raw beans.
“He can eat triple the amount of food that I made for everyone else combined. Our Pokémon have largely grown big, not up,” said Blue, and that made quite a lot of sense. “A few of them in particular. Alan, for instance.” He pointed at the Alakazam, who had taken his plate over to the couch and was now watching television. “He can be very helpful, and he and Penny are my aces, but he teams up with Charizard to pick on Arlo.”
“Arlo's the Arcanine?”
“Right. Penny is my Pidgeot. On the one hand, Alan and Charizard need to leave Arlo alone, because they are not being nice.” This was said loudly, with a pointed stare at Alan; the Alakazam held up one fist with a spoon stuck out of it. “Don't flip me off, you little shit. You don't even have five fingers. That's a spoon, for fuck's sake!”
“On the other hand,” said Red, resuming Blue's thought in a way that Gladion found both creepy and charming, “Arlo is one of Blue's oldest partners, and he should know better than to let them push his buttons. He falls for it every time.”
“That's because he's stupid, dear,” said Blue. “The poor thing doesn't know any better.”
“If you can train him to combine Fire Blast and Hyper Beam into one move, which you did, then you can train him to ignore Alan and Charizard.”
The bickering was so— commonplace. There was no venom in it; it was just good-natured complaining. It reminded him of the time he'd met Moon's parents, after the whole Ultra Space fiasco; and it also, oddly, reminded him of Jeremiah and Ki-moon.
“Skewers?” offered Blue, opening the slow-cooker.
Gladion's stomach growled again. “Yes, please.”
When they were all sated, Red went upstairs with a basket of Pokéballs to bring everyone in; Gladion went with him, for Ellie and Imp. They both chattered at him, telling him rapid-fire things they'd learned about their new friends. He didn't understand all of it, but he got the gist: Ellie really liked Penny the Pidgeot and the Scizor, who belonged to Red and therefore had no nickname. Imp, unsurprisingly, had immediately bonded with Red's Charizard but also took a liking to both Red's Venusaur and Blue's Sandslash— who was named Sam, and was the sandy brown color of the Kantonian variety versus Alolan ice-blue.
Most of the Pokémon, especially the particularly hyperactive ones, were recalled to their balls after supper; in a nauseatingly cute display, Blue kissed each one good-night— Red's as well as his own— and stuck it into the shoe rack, in a labeled slot.
“Why don't you put them in the PC?”
“The last time I put any of them in the PC, I left Tauros in for a month by accident and he's been acting up ever since,” said Red.
“Do you keep Pokémon in the PC?” inquired Blue archly.
“...no.”
“That's why.”
“You sound just like Moon.”
Both of them smiled, at that. Soon all of the Pokémon had been put into their balls except for Alan, Penny, Espeon and Sylveon, Snorlax, the Water-types in the tank, and of course Pikachu. Gladion did a quick survey of his teammates and soon Imp, Rey, and Nox had returned to their Pokéballs, while Null and Ellie remained with him.
“Do you play favorites?” said Blue, eyeing his choices with amusement.
“Null hates being confined,” explained Gladion, sitting down on the couch when Blue pointed, indicating he should. “And Ellie— um, she knows I get nervous.”
“Have you done aura therapy with her?”
Gladion nodded. It was something he'd covered with Dr. Meghan. Ellie had sort of been doing it on her own, instinctively trying to comfort him; but once she'd learned the techniques it had worked wonders.
“We did ask Moon questions about you—”
“A lot of fuckin' questions,” muttered Red, rolling his eyes.
Blue ignored him. “But she said she couldn't or wouldn't answer a lot of them, and some of them were a little— you know, worrying. We read all the paperwork on your application, but honestly we've got more questions and less answers than before.”
“You can ask about Null,” said Gladion, and he knew his tone was clipped but he couldn't help it. Null, vain thing she was, sat up straight, puffing out her chest. Both Red and Blue smiled at that. Ellie snuggled into his side, and he put one arm over her shoulder, sparing the other hand to scratch behind Null's ears. “But I'm not talking about my family.”
“The two are connected, aren't they?”
“Only if I go into unnecessary detail.”
There was a pause, and Red sat down on the floor in front of Snorlax, leaning back into him. The giant cat shifted and mumbled, but didn't wake up. Espeon curled up in his lap, and Pikachu pulled Red's cap off and put it on his own head before sitting down next to him. Penny sat on a small metal perch that Blue pulled out from under the coffee table, and Alan sat on the couch next to him; the Sylveon sat on his lap and both men absently pet their Eeveelutions. Gladion fought to still his rapidly beating heart; Ellie cooed, sending a wave of calm to quell his distress.
“What is she?”
Red's voice was quiet.
Gladion swallowed. “If I have interpreted the coded notes correctly,” he said haltingly, “and if I have done the math correctly—”
“Which I'm sure you have, don't worry about it,” said Blue, waving away his hesitation.
“Then, um. Null is— eight point three percent Zangoose, eight point one percent Houndoom, seven point nine percent Luxray, seven point two percent Unfezant, three point nine percent Samurott, three point four percent Gyarados, three percent Toxicroak, two point seven percent Haxorus, two point six percent Granbull, two point four percent Steelix, two point three percent Absol, two percent Doublade, one point nine percent Lucario, one point eight percent Abomasnow, one point seven percent Scolipede, one point six percent Lycanroc, one point four percent Weavile, one point one percent Metagross, point eight percent Beheeyem, and thirty-seven percent artificial construction.”
The silence was heavy. Gladion willed himself not to cry.
“The percentages vary for— for Unit One and Unit Three. Unit One had more Zangoose and Gyarados, and it w-was—” He would not cry, damn it. “—less stable. Emotionally speaking. It had more of a temper, it was— more prone to attacking its... carers, if you can call them that. Unit Three has more Metagross and Beheeyem, and is resultingly more rational, though no less vicious.”
“I don't want to upset you any more, but I have a couple of questions,” said Blue. His voice was gentle. “Do you mean before she evolved, or now?”
“We did tests. The genetic composition is the same, it's just— more stable. More in harmony.”
“And neither of the other two have evolved?”
Gladion shook his head. “Unit Three is in a deep freezer in Aether,” he said quietly. “Only Amelia and I have the authorization to access it. I've been thinking about giving it to Moon, but it would have to wait. We both have a lot to do right now.”
“And Unit One?”
“Dead.” He spat the word, and was oddly, horribly satisfied when Blue flinched. “Faba cut it up for spare parts. I guess if you put something together with spare parts, you can take it apart that way, too. He lobotomized it, cut out parts of the digestive tract and a kidney and a chunk of the liver. It was functionally a vegetable. Amelia and I, we— we put it out of its misery.”
“Brrrr.”
Ellie crossly climbed onto his lap, pressing her paws against Gladion's temple. He sighed, and let the fight sink out of him.
“It's just— it's hard to talk about. I know I did the right thing with Unit One, but knowing what I— knowing that I was part of what hurt it, and part of what hurt my Null. That's— it's bad.” He swallowed, remembering Dr. Meghan's voice, gently chiding: you have to learn to state things as they are, Gladion. Don't downplay your own suffering. “It hurts. A lot. And I don't know if Moon told you, but I, um, lash out when I'm upset. I'm trying to work on it but it still happens sometimes. I'm sorry.”
“Forgiven, forgotten,” said Blue, waving one hand. “And it's understandable that you're upset.”
“There's some of every type of Pokémon, then?” asked Red.
“Each of the eighteen types, yeah.” Gladion, grateful for their kindness, gently moved Ellie sideways and leaned forward, turning Null's head to show them the Memory Drive. “Most of the artificial construct is here, in her skull. There are also some, uh, electronic components, which were made with titanium and stainless steel for strength and sanitation. They don't contain DNA like the artificial structure, but the electronics are inspired by Metagross and Rotom as well as the Porygon family.”
He pressed softly on the small muscle, and the Fairy Memory slid silently out of the Memory Drive. Null's crownfeathers, tailfin, and eyes faded to white.
“This is called the RKS System,” he said, focusing on the feeling of metal and plastic under his fingers— on Null, her feathery ruff and predator's sinew. “In his arrogance, a Dr. Marcus Faba of the Aether Foundation believed he could create a Pokémon with the same Multitype ability as Arceus himself. Yes, I know, shut it,” he added, when Null bristled at the name. “I am explaining your backstory and it is unfortunately necessary to talk about him.”
“She doesn't like Dr. Faba?”
“Well, no, she doesn't,” said Gladion, recalling with grim amusement the moment Null had broken her helmet and evolved, pouncing on Dr. Faba; he'd pissed himself, and it remained one of his most satisfying, if not necessarily happy memories. “But she's not mad about him. She heard 'Arceus,' and the words 'RKS System' were thrown around often enough in her hearing that she can't tell the difference between someone talking about her ability and someone talking about the creator of the known universe.”
A soft growl rumbled continuously as he spoke, pulsing every time he repeated the name. Gladion sighed, and focused on petting her for about thirty seconds; he repeated what Ellie often did with him, placing both hands on each side of her face and slowly stroking down the sides. The growl subsided into a different rumble, a much happier one.
“Is she purring?” Red had leaned forward without helping it, balanced on one knee.
“Yes. You can come closer, I've trained her out of biting or clawing.”
Both Red and Blue came closer, but maintained a respectful distance of four or five feet and Gladion appreciated that.
“She defaults as a Normal-type,” he explained. “Because she's technically mostly Zangoose, but also because of Unfezant and the artificial structures— they fall into the same category and are made with the same materials as the Porygon family, who are also Normal-types. If she had a secondary type, it ought to be Steel; but there isn't enough natural organic Steel-type DNA to merit it. The RKS System, which is the name for both the artificial structure and her— Ability, if you will, contains what Dr. Faba named the Memory Drive. A Memory can be inserted into the, um, slot without issue, but in order to prevent it from falling out several muscles close after it to keep it in place. This muscle is essentially the eject button.”
He opened the Memory case. “Each of these is a different type. I used to rely on the color to remember which was which, but Flying and Ice are both unfortunately similar and I lost a battle once because I didn't realize which one it was until some jerk used Flamethrower and absolutely decimated us. And by 'some jerk,' I mean Moon.” Gladion offered them a dry smile. “She knew what she was doing, too. She was the one who gave me the idea to label them.”
He selected the Water Memory— it was calming for Null, and wouldn't freak anyone else out with demonic red or black eyes— and pressed it into the slot. The muscles parted easily, and Null blinked, shaking her head the way a dry-land Pokémon might shake itself after getting wet. Her eyes, tail fin, and crownfeathers deepened to a bright blue.
“And now,” he said, reaching over to run his hands through her ruff, “one of her moves, Multi Attack, has changed to Water-type, but will still have STAB. I used to think she fully changed type, but then she had STAB on Crush Claw and I had to reevaluate.”
“Like Arceus's ability Multitype and how the move Judgment will change type depending on the plate it holds?”
Gladion nodded.
“Was that purposeful, do you think?”
“Of course it was. Dr. Faba designed it, and he's power-hungry enough to want to stick it under Arceus's nose. 'I made something better than you.' ” He mimicked the man's whiny tone, a decent enough imitation that Null turned to glare at him.
“So an idiot as well as arguably committing sacrilege.” Blue rolled his eyes. “I'm sure Arceus is much too preoccupied with the state of the universe as a whole to care about whatever some third-rate scientist is doing, but if he deigned to care he could turn that guy inside out and wrap him up in a pretty bow made of his own intestines. Did his mother not hug him enough as a child?”
Gladion laughed, though something low and hurt twisted in his gut and Red looked at him sharply.
* * * * *
He had slept quite a lot on the plane, but found he was still tired enough to sleep through the night. Red shook him awake at what felt like three in the morning but was actually seven. Gladion had completely forgotten to set an alarm on his Dex in his fatigue, and he had an appointment with Professor Samuel Oak at eight-thirty.
Red couldn't skive off work for two days in a row, especially not in the morning— most League challengers arrived at night and rested before challenging the Elite Four, which meant his mornings were busy. Blue's mornings, by contrast, tended to be empty because plenty of people skipped Route Twenty-one and went straight to Viridian, and therefore felt like they could sleep in.
“Also,” added Blue, once Red had packed up his teammates and left via the roof on Charizard, “Red has this weird sense of obligation in that he feels obliged to work. I don't. I'm literally only the gym leader because Lance can't find anyone else. He gets pissed off every time I skip, and that is now the sole reason I ever do it besides when I have actual good reasons to skip. Like now, when I have a guest who's going to see my grandad anyway.”
It was strange enough to see Red climbing onto his own Charizard with a minimalist, possibly handmade saddle; but it was stranger still for Gladion to watch as Blue selected six teammates and got out two of them on the roof.
“Both Penny and Aurora know Fly,” he said cheerfully. “You guys do something different in Alola, right? Moon mentioned it.”
“Mm-hmm, we have Ride Pagers. Sort of like a Pokémon taxi service.” Gladion watched, surprised, as Blue placed one hand on what he had thought was an oversize wristwatch; there was a gleam of rainbowed light around both Blue and the Pidgeot, and suddenly she had grown to twice her size, larger even than the Aerodactyl, with feathers that shimmered in prismatic stripes.
“Penny's easier to ride, so you'd better take her.” Blue indicated the Mega-Evolved Pidgeot. “I'll manage fine with Aurora.”
It was a very short flight, only fifteen minutes or so; it would have been faster on a Ride Charizard but not every Pokémon could fly up to a hundred and twenty miles per hour and Gladion didn't mind. They didn't fly as high as a Ride Charizard would have done either, skimming about twenty feet above buildings and then diving to about the same distance above what Blue told him was Kanto's own Route One. It was green here, though not the same green as Alola; and he saw, to his surprise, fields being tilled with both tractors and a Tauros with a plow; and several pastures with what had to be hundreds of grazing Tauros and Miltank.
Pallet Town was small. Gladion could see that much as they approached from above. There were three or four neighborhoods, mostly townhouses or trailers. The grocery store reminded him of the Thrifty Megamart— the one he hadn't blown up, on Akala Island. He could see a laundromat, a couple of hole-in-the-wall type restaurants, and other stores too distant to distinguish.
He could also easily see Professor Oak's laboratory, partial greenhouse gleaming in the sunlight on one side; the building was considerably nicer than most of the rest of the buildings in town. Gladion expected Blue to land there but instead he flew past it, turning down a neighboring street and landing in front of a small house at the end of the road, just before the boundary of the surrounding forest.
The house was quite shabby but still neat. It had been painted fairly recently, but there were weeds growing in the cracks of the sidewalk.
“This is Moon's old house,” said Blue, recalling both Pidgeot and Aerodactyl as he spoke. “Want to go inside?”
Gladion swallowed. “We'll be late for my appointment.”
“Moon said you're hard to wake up in the mornings,” said Blue briskly. “The appointment's actually at nine, because I wanted to bring you here too.” He was pulling a small key ring out of his pocket.
“Why do you have a key?”
“I own it.” At Gladion's confused blink, Blue sighed. “Look, when the Hawkins family put their house up for sale, the housing market was kind of on a downswing. I knew they wouldn't accept charity from either Red or me, so I made a little LLC and bought it anonymously. We took a lot of their furniture, too. I'm going to gift it back to Moon someday, but I'm not sure how to do it. Any advice?”
He unlocked the front door, while Gladion thought about it. They both took their shoes off at the doorway, padding around in sock feet for a lack of house slippers.
The house was small— cramped, really. Even with just three occupants and a Meowth, it would have been tight quarters. Blue led him upstairs and pointed at a door that had been painted a stark navy-blue in the white wall.
“This is mostly Mrs. Hawkins' work, but Moon helped too,” he said.
The walls and ceiling had been painted like a wild galaxy— mostly navy blue, but there were sunrise and stardust streaks of color around the window that looked out onto a scraggly back yard. Streaks of glittering silver and gold paint dotted and striped the night-sky background.
“Red and I helped too,” he added, his voice going softer. “It was— it was her tenth birthday present, because her parents had to tell her they couldn't afford to get her a Pokémon. I was only sixteen but I offered to get her one, I knew Gramps would help me pay for it. They turned me down, still.” He sighed. “Part of it was stubbornness, and— and pride, you know? What parents would want to admit that they couldn't get their daughter even a little Nidoran or a baby Pidgey? Yoshiro told me later that he wanted to say yes, he wanted to let her have everything in the world. But he knew it wouldn't be good for her later on to find out she couldn't afford the Gym challenge, and he didn't want to set her up for disappointment.”
“Why is it so expensive?”
“We don't have as many random job opportunities in Kanto as you can find in Alola.” Blue stared out the window. “Moon wanted a part-time job, but she couldn't ever get one and her parents told her to focus on getting good grades for college anyway.”
That thought remained with him as Blue quietly locked Moon's old house back up, and as they walked back down the street and made their way to Professor Oak's laboratory.
“She was going to go to college?” Gladion asked, as they turned the corner.
“There were about three teachers that didn't like her, for whatever stupid reason, and they punished her by giving her low enough marks so that she wouldn't graduate valedictorian.” Blue rolled his eyes. “She got into every school she applied for. She'd even made a decision— she was going to go to l'Academie Lumiose. Sat down to write the acceptance letter and everything. Then Yoshiro told them about the job offer he'd gotten in Alola and the pay increase, enough that they could afford to send Moon on a gym challenge. Sorry, island challenge.”
Gladion tried to imagine Moon not moving to Alola, and shuddered. “Thank fuck.”
“She'd have done well in Kalos,” said Blue thoughtfully. “But she loves Alola— loves it way more than she ever loved Kanto.”
“She still loves Kanto, though. I have a list of places she told me to go sight-seeing. I don't have any time to go sight-seeing, but I'm going to try to go to at least one place.” An idea sparked. “What if you fixed up Moon's old house as like, her vacation home? It could be somewhere to stay if she ever wants to visit.”
Blue smiled. “Good idea. I may do just that.”
* * * * *
“Squirr,” said Squirtle, blinking up at him curiously.
“Charo char!” proclaimed the Charmander, waving its tail emphatically.
“Bula.”
Gladion had made his choice a long time ago, ever since deciding he would go to Kanto. He picked up the Bulbasaur, running his fingers over the little points of her ears.
“That specimen is female,” noted Professor Oak. “Would you like to give her a nickname?”
“Her name is Persephone.”
Sometimes he felt like the Hades to Moon's Persephone, dragging her down and forcing her to exist with him in hell. But Moon always told him, her voice firm, that being with him was a choice; that she liked him. That she loved him, though they still both found it difficult to say to one another; and that she would always reach for light, and she would bring him back up with her. If anything he was Persephone, long coddled and limited by an overbearing mother with no knowledge of freedom until—
—well, until Moon. Leaving Aether Paradise hadn't freed him, and neither had joining Team Skull. He had only been freed in a single moment, back in the hell that was his home, when his mother had turned a cruel smile and crueller words on Moon, trying to hurt her, to hurt him: Oh, I see. You love him, don't you?
...Yes? Obviously? I don't see what that has to do with anything.
And life and love had flooded Gladion from head to toe, inundating his every breath and pulsing with every beat of his heart. He had tried not to weird Moon out with the intensity of his emotions after knowing her for such a short time; but she must have known— must have somehow understood. He never had to say anything, never had to try and prove or qualify or measure his feelings. She gave her own love as freely as she accepted his, without reserve or hesitation; and told him that whatever he had to give, whatever he could give, was enough.
For the first time in his life, he was enough.