Chapter Text
Now that he thought about it, there hardly was a day in Green’s life when he didn’t have to think about Red. He didn’t believe in crap like fate or stupid superstitious junk like this, but he had to admit that circumstances had worked against him from the very start. It was one thing to end up living with your grandfather in the smallest town ever, but it was another to be constantly reminded that there was only one other child his age and that, somehow, they had to make friends or be rivals. Or both.
Well.
After Red wiped the floor with his Pokémon barely thirty minutes into the most short-lived Champion title grant in history, that matter was finally settled: it turned out they were neither friends or rivals. They were nothing .
As Green watched his grandfather lead Red to the Hall of Fame -after he voiced his disappointment in him, again-, his only certitude was that his entire existence seemed like a mistake that could only have ended up this way: in failure.
It was easy to think that somehow the universe had worked against him from the beginning by putting him against Red in some sort of ironic twist of fate, and even easier to really believe it. Still, as he made his way out of the League, blurrily taking the way back to Pallet Town, Green was certain of a few other things: he had only himself to blame, and he would never live up to his grandfather’s expectations. Because even though Red beat him, Green still had become Champion himself, the youngest one in history; and even though it only lasted thirty measly minutes, this accomplishment couldn’t be overwritten. But Professor Oak only had harsh criticism and disappointment to offer in lieu of the expected praise, and his congratulations went to the boy Green had grown to resent through the years of open favoritism he was benefitting from.
It wasn’t that Red was undeserving, because favoritism or not, he was a genius, as much as Green hated to admit it. Red always showed obvious talent in everything he put his mind into, and the thing he put the most investment in turned out to be Pokémon. Green didn’t really mind when they were little, there was no rivalry to have when he was just happy to share his passion with his then best friend; but as their eleventh birthday approached along with the date of their departure, it became hard to stay oblivious of the way the Professor had the highest praises for the one who wasn’t his grandson. And said grandson couldn’t not notice. How the old man’s face would light up at the sight of Red, how warm his welcoming was and all the questions he had for him even though the boy barely acknowledged any of them. Green had grown up without parents, and as such, he had always craved for the attention and recognition from the only parent figure he had left. And he couldn’t, for the life of him, act like he didn’t see how the spark in his grandpa’s eyes would irremediably dim at the sight of him and his ‘accomplishments’.(He would understand under the roof of the Indigo League they always meant jack shit next to Red’s, and would irrevocably remain so.)
He didn’t know what to expect upon arriving at Pallet Town in the wake of his glorious defeat against Red, but he couldn’t say he was surprised when only his sister Daisy seemed to sincerely welcome him back. She thankfully refrained from congratulating him, tactful as ever, but still conveyed how proud of him she was. He felt like shit that he was unable to feel even remotely good about it, worsening his already pretty sour mood.
In the following days, excitement over the arrival of the new Kanto Champion back to his hometown swept all over the town, much to the utter bitterness of Green. Okay, he was mean, sarcastic and downright arrogant at times, but Red was the most antisocial recluse he had ever seen, and still people prepared like they were awaiting for the return of a long-lost friend; what kind of hypocritical bullshit was that? There was no way Red had ever uttered anything more than a half-muttered word to any of them; he was pretty sure he was the only one who knew that Red could be a perfectly little mouthy shit when he wanted to, but it looked like it was only reserved for Green. What a wonderful privilege to be privy to.
But the thing was: Red never showed up.
Professor Oak returned alone.
Seeing his confused expression, one had to guess that he had expected Red to have returned ahead of him. That caused quite the uproar as Red still didn’t turn up the day after. Or even the next. People grew wary and worried, as no one seemed to know where he was. Last time he was seen was just after he and his team got registered into eternity, walking down Victory Road. As weeks passed and still no news of him having at least been spotted somewhere, Red was officially reported as missing. Green didn’t know how he felt about that, still wallowing in the sting of having accomplished a feat that no one acknowledged or seemed to care about, and even less now that everyone’s favorite, national golden boy, had disappeared. He could almost laugh at the irony of Red stealing the spotlight whether he was there or not, really. He still carefully gave Red’s house, where his mom was eagerly waiting for him to come home with dwindling hope every day, a wide berth whenever he was in the vicinity.
Months trickled by and during that time, not only Red didn’t show any sign of life, but Green’s relationship with his grandfather took a turn for the worst. It had never been great, but his ultimate defeat against Red had roused something ugly, something deeply rooted into their core and lying dormant until then, from its sleep. And it wasn’t pretty.
Professor Oak couldn’t stand seeing his grandson ‘doing nothing’, ‘wasting time wallowing in useless self-pity’ and ‘moping around all day like a Slakoth’ and reminded him of his displeasure every chance he got, meaning Green had to be subjected to such beratement several times a day, almost every day (Daisy tried to act as a buffer by sending him on errands outside of Pallet Town, sometimes for several days, Arceus bless her). Green had never been a really patient person, and if as a (younger) child any scolding from his grandfather had him instantly deflate and hang his head low, now it just spurred on irrepressible anger, and he found himself snapping back, arguing with a vitriol he had seldom allowed to spill until now. Everything came out all at once, all the rage at being irrevocably less than the boy’s next door in his grandfather’s eyes, all the resentment towards said boy he knew didn’t deserve such unjust wrath directed at him, all the envy that had consumed him since the day Red got to choose his Pokémon first, all the hurt that had piled over years of being brushed aside by his own flesh and blood and the crushing inferiority complex that had stemmed from it.
Arguments between them had never been pretty, but never had it escalated into screaming matches before; well, Green figured there was a first for everything.
“You can’t go on like this, Green!”
“And what does that even mean?! Shouldn’t you be glad I am not ‘stirring up trouble’ and bringing shame on your name as usual?!”
“This is not what it is about, Green! It’s been months, and you’ve been doing nothing! Aren’t you thinking about your future? Do you even have any plans at all?!”
“And what if I don’t?! Not everyone has to be busy all the time like you!”
“It’s not about being busy, it’s about doing something with your life! I tolerated your childish antics of wanting to become a Pokémon master and allowed you to see for yourself that it could never come to fruition, but now those delusions of yours are finally done and over with, it’s time you-”
Green would have probably been less shocked if he had actually been slapped.
“...childish antics that could never come to fruition?” he repeated in a daze.
Professor Oak huffed.
“Green, there are a lot of young boys like you out there who share the same dream. And that’s fine for them, because they’re not you.”
They’re not an Oak . Green felt himself barely registering what was said to him after, a sudden white noise filling out his head, a strident high-pitched buzz drowning every coherent thought he tried to muster upon hearing that his grandfather never believed in him. It was one thing to strongly suspect, but another to actually have it confirmed: it didn’t hurt any less.
That explained why he could never live to his expectations: he had no expectations to begin with.
“As my grandson, you have responsibilities, Green. A name to uphold to. Not everyone has that chance, and you think I will let you waste it away so you could fulfill some insignificant whim of yours? You’re smart, Green, and I am willing to admit you’re a good trainer, but you’re not Red.”
You’re not Red.
Green’s mind went blank. For a solid minute, he couldn’t say a single word. And then, a dark chuckle went past his lips.
“So this really is what it’s all about, eh?”
Oak let out an exasperated sigh.
“Green, I am getting tired of all your dramatic self-pitying act. It’s time you accept that you can’t have everything you want in life! Why is everything so complicated with you? I really wish you could be more like Red in this manner, he had his shortcomings just like you of course, but at least he never made a fuss-”
“What shortcomings.”
“Pardon?”
Green looked up, straight in the eyes of the man who always wished to see another instead. He had never dared to, before. If he had known it would be so anticlimactic, he would’ve done it sooner; once you got past the usual disappointment and exasperation, the face in front of him only amounted to one of a surprised graying old man way too used to have his lectures be passively endured by the one he called his grandson on paper and when it was convenient for him. Mainly: to convey how the very existence of Red sealed away any worth he would have deigned to bestow upon him otherwise.
“What shortcomings did Red have, exactly? I never heard you sing anything but his praises until now, so pray tell, what was he lacking, because I am damn curious to know what flaws the great Professor Oak saw in perfect golden boy Red,” he spat.
He would have rejoiced in the old man’s startled expression if he hadn’t really expected a serious answer.
But he did.
And for the first time, as long as Green could remember, it’s his grandfather who turned away. Green’s bitter smirk held no mirth.
“You didn’t find any, right? Or more like, none that you deemed serious enough to complain about. Ha .”
“Green, this isn’t about-”
“I will find him.”
The Professor snapped his head back at him, eyes wide and incredulous.
“You what?”
“I will find your favorite student. Everyone seems to miss him so much but is anyone even looking for him?”
“The police-”
Green snorted.
“Yeah, right. So, no one who can actually find him.” Oak frowned. “Oh Gramps, you seriously think that something happened to Red? The guy wiped the floor with the strongest trainers’ Pokémon in the entire Region and brought down an entire criminal organization by himself , trust me, no one can touch him. No, my guess is, he ditched everyone all on his own, and if he went into hiding, no one can find him.”
No one that wasn’t Green, at least.
“But since I have nothing to do , you know what, I will try my hand at it; or is it another waste of my time as you so nicely put it?” he threw as he turned to get out of his grandfather’s lab.
“Green, this is not what I-”
“Smell ya, Gramps.”
For the first time in years, he didn’t slam the door on his way out. But it would be the last time he walked through it at all.
Contrary to unpopular belief, Green actually was more attuned to Red than people might think. One would often assume that as an obvious jealous rival, Green would just plaster all his frustrations and insecurities on his childhood friend’s face to better accommodate his own-fulfilling narrative that he was being robbed of what should have become rightfully his. But the thing was, as envious and resentful as he felt, he still cared. And maybe that was also part of the issue.
Because maybe if he didn’t, he could actually let go of this unwelcomed, misplaced spite he didn’t seem to manage to get rid of anytime soon. If he didn’t, he could let go and move on with his life, and Arceus be damned if Red wasn’t a mandatory part of it anymore. Green honestly couldn’t tell if he missed him now that he was effectively absent from his life. Their last years together had been plagued by a steady deterioration of their friendship he wasn’t sure they could recover from. If they even wanted to.
Now that he thought about it, Green’s spiteful behavior had been pretty one-sided. As far as he remembered, every time they encountered one another, Red would just silently take everything Green would throw at him, be it harsh words or battle challenges. He would stand there, unmoving, expressionless save for the occasional tilt of his head whenever Green got frustrated by his lack of reaction and grew even more agitated.
Yeah, it was pathetic.
All in all, he had no clue what Red might have thought of him then, and he wasn’t really keen on finding out. And now that Green had taken it upon himself to find where that dumbass had fucked off to, he had no choice but to sit down and actually think about him in the most detailed manner possible; guy had literally vanished , as if the instant he put one foot outside the League, he was whisked away Arceus knew where. Or more accurately, he probably whisked himself away (Green had returned on the Indigo Plateau just to make sure no clue was actually left behind, which comforted him of the fact Red willingly disappeared; he preferred not to linger on the possible whys, as he said he would find him, not psychoanalyze him, duh).
(...)
(It was probably because of him.)
During the next five years, Green became fairly intimate with the fact that indeed , he knew a lot more about Red than he thought.
When confronted to his closed-off behavior and tight-lipped attitude, most people assumed Red had some kind of speech impairment that prevented him from initiating or following up with any kind of verbal response when being engaged.
The truth was, Red could perfectly speak if he wanted to; most of the time, he just chose not to.
Green had vivid memories of snarky retorts to his taunting (yeah he always had been a brat so what) whenever Red felt like it, and it had always come out so naturally that he had no doubt about Red’s speech abilities. He just suspected saying more than a few short sentences felt too much of a bother to him.
Red was also no pushover; Green never managed to make him do anything he didn’t want to, no matter how much he tried to bully him into it. He would just stay completely unflappable in front of a fuming Green and would either completely overlook his whimsical antics by offering to do a different activity altogether in a ‘ I-will-just-act-like-you-didn’t-say-anything’ manner or ignore him until he calmed down enough to go sulk (Red would then come to get him a few minutes later, taking his hand silently and never commenting on Green’s petulant sniffling).
(Green had always followed. And if he squeezed Red’s hand a little bit more than what was necessary, Red never said anything about it.)
Red had never caved in front of Green’s unreasonable demands; in a way, he had always been the one doing what he wanted, and only what he wanted. Between the two of them, Red was the free spirit, so it never really came as a surprise that he went MIA on them just because he could.
He was still going to punch the fucker right in his stupid face the moment he caught a glimpse of him though.
Never had he felt more on a quest to catch a particularly rare and difficult Pokémon than now, and he couldn’t say he liked it. At least an actual Pokémon at the end of the journey would provide some excitement, but no, only stupid Red was waiting for him somewhere in some part of the universe’s asshole apparently, and to add insult to injury, probably in the most recluse part of it.
See if he did anything for him ever again, ha!
(He would.)
(Because he was a sentimental idiot like that.)
A sideways glance confirmed that Alakazam had heard that stray thought and was silently judging him.
“What?”
The Pokémon closed his eyes and seemingly returned to its meditating. This would teach Green to raise highly intelligent Pokémon.
They were currently camping at the foot of Mount Silver; after five years of roaming through Kanto to raid every possible place Red could have taken refuge in (according to Green’s assumptions) and finding jack-shit, he had decided to take a different approach. That being: if Red wasn’t anywhere known to welcome drained/upset trainers needing some space, chances were he was somewhere no one (well, almost no one) could get to.
Hence the preparations to freeze his ass off climbing the highest, dumbest mountain in the world. The most dangerous too, as it was famous for crawling with powerful wild Pokémon that would easily destroy even the most experienced team if they let their guard down. Anyone with half a decent brain would avoid the place like a Muk’s pack if they knew what was good for them.
And most trainers did, because he hadn’t heard of anyone stupid enough to try their luck.
Yet.
Because this was exactly the kind of brainless challenge Red would absolutely set for himself.
Green had avoided thinking about the reasons that might’ve explained his sudden departure, but five years on the road playing detective had lulled moments where he got stuck within his own brain. And he unavoidably wondered.
Why?
Green was self-centered enough to think it might have been his fault at first, as he hadn’t exactly been a gracious loser in the face of his crushing defeat, but as heinous as he had been, he liked to think he knew enough of Red that it was just part of the reason. Or reasons. Whatever. He wasn’t egotistical enough, though, to believe Red’s world revolved around his not so humble self, so that vanishing act was likely the result of a number of circumstances that drove him away…for good.
Meaning Red felt trapped, and if there was one thing he hated more than anything (beside Pokémon abuse), it was being trapped.
Even as a child, Green had quickly picked up on his friend’s loathing of any setting that would remotely coerce him into doing anything. That’s why his grades in school had always been far from stellar even though he was most likely the smartest guy in the room; he hated homework and either never did it or made a point of conveniently “losing” it someplace no one would bother searching. No punishment ever worked on him, as he never protested and dutifully stayed quietly in his designated corner for the time he was told to, and no matter how many times he ended up there, it never had any effect on his behavior towards academic obligations.
He hated it, and that was it.
(Green wished he had that kind of resolve. Did he tell you he was jealous? Yeah, you probably guessed already.)
So it wasn’t that far-fetched to assume this little reprieve that looked more and more like a tantrum of a higher scale the longer Green kept racking his brain about it had something to do with the obligations that came along with his brand new title of Champion.
But it was just speculation.
(Green knew he was right; he would have bet Red’s Pikachu on it.)
Pray Arceus that Red actually was somewhere on that stupid mountain, because no one made Green one of the dumbasses who willingly climbed it for nothing and lived to tell the tale.
(Even if Red was the worst gossip ever, as he hardly said anything at all, even when he should e.g.: tell his mom he wasn’t dead.)
Several days later, the trek had led Green more than half-way up the mountain, and he decided to set up camp when the day started declining. By the time he was finished, it was dark enough to make any attempt at climbing higher an obvious safety hazard. As an experienced trainer and traveler, he had thoroughly prepared both equipment and teammates for the ascension, as it was primordial next to nothing was left to chance. The Pokémon he had picked were both strong and very attuned to each other, as they needed to be able to perform as an autonomous team since he couldn’t be aware of everything all the time during the hike; Alakazam was the first he selected, for its psychic abilities would provide an excellent complementary way to what could be detected by his subpar human senses. Their esper prowess had historically proved themselves time and time again, to the point it was believed they could even predict the future down to a certain point.
Arcanine was a must-have as well: as the highest peak in the world, Mount Silver was not only known for its freezing temperatures but also for its awful weather. Mountains climate was usually bound to quick, abrupt changes that caught anyone unawares on a regular basis, but this particular one added its own special danger flavor by never giving any of the usual warnings before they occurred: one moment you were gleefully walking up a nice sunny path and the next some apocalyptic-level blizzard would brutally remind you of your mortal condition so you pathetic worms wouldn’t get too cheeky (that was how Green chose to interpret it). All in all, don’t even think about setting a foot on there without a powerful Fire Type Pokémon.
Pidgeot, who would be extremely useful if they needed to make a hasty retreat by flight and to monitor things from above, had been selected alongside Machamp, for eventual heavy lifting purposes (as it was too dangerous to come up there, Green assumed the mountain’s already scarce paths weren’t maintained like for other more accessible peaks, so he expected them to be obstructed by frequent collapsings), and Gyarados, because a Water Type Pokémon was also a matter of survival in a general manner, and finally, Eevee.
Yup, you read right.
His girl just wouldn’t be left behind, no matter how much he tried to coax her into her Pokéball, he even had Nurse Joy try her hand at bribing her to stay at the Pokémon Center right at the foot of the mountain where she would be well taken care of, with other Pokémon she could make friends and play with while her trainer scaled one of the most dangerous places in the world to maybe find an old… acquaintance that might not even be there, but there was no convincing her. She might be a small, adorable thing, but her stubbornness did hold a candle to Green’s.
So here she was, nestled in his thick coat, leeching off warmth happily; he couldn’t even be mad at her when she brought him so much comfort since the beginning of his Red Quest (yeah he had a name for it, sue him). Who would have thought that looking for someone blindly on your own could be this taxing emotionally? Green indeed, but there was knowing what to expect and actually experiencing it, and he had spent so many nights dreading what the future had in store as the consequences of his silly, impulsive decision; if he had been right to do so, if that didn’t prove his grandfather’s point about his childishness, about his obstination to prove himself of a worthiness it was never his fate to be acknowledged for.
It was on such a night that, four years ago, he had heard her. It was late autumn, cold, and as he had trouble finding sleep like most nights since he had left, a tiny, feeble cry resonated from somewhere deeper in the dark forest. At first, he didn’t quite register it, as there was nothing unusual about hearing Pokémon at night in the middle of a forest. What did catch his attention, however, was the insistent and repeating angry note in it. Also, this cry was unlike anything he had heard before in the area, and he had been camping in this forest for several nights now. He couldn’t identify the Pokémon, and as a trainer that prided himself on his extended Pokémon knowledge, he just couldn’t stay in the dark (ha, ha) about it; he had to know what it was.
That’s how he ended up going out the little clearing he had claimed as his spot for the night, flashlight in hand and Alakazam in tow, trying to be as silent as possible to pinpoint the location of the noise and not disturb the quiet of the forest. As they got closer to it, peering through bushes and overgrown grass, they finally spotted her: a tiny, dirty thing stuck under a tree root. She must have tried to sneak under it. She was feisty and immediately started to hiss and scream at him the moment she spotted him. He just smiled.
“Aw, look at you: such a cute bitey baby.”
She tried even harder to wriggle her way out and snapped her teeth at his hand when he got closer to better see how to help her.
“Hey, hey, don’t bite the hand that’s trying to help you okay?” She glared at him, unimpressed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust myself either. But I really want to help, promise.”
He turned to Alakazam, who levitated a Pecha Berry he had just picked nearby in front of her. She must’ve been starved; who knew how many hours she had been here? Despite her aggressiveness, her matted fur and trembling body reeked of exhaustion. She inspected the berry warrily, clearly suspicious, but still ended up eating it voraciously, keeping an eye on Green, who just kept smiling.
“There you are. I’m the good guy here, see?” This entire situation made him think of Red (again), of how easy it probably would have been for him to gain her trust. The guy loved Pokémon, but above all, Pokémon loved him.
It was part of the reason why his grandfather favored him: they had both seen the most feral, untamable Pokémon surrender to Red in a matter of days, if not hours. The guy had such a knack with them that he was the one the Professor always turned to when they had to deal with Pokémon deemed lost causes, as only him could somehow rehabilitate them to a certain extent. At least, enough to be recognized as some kind of genius.
Green could never live up to an ability he didn’t possess. It didn’t mean he wasn’t good with Pokémon, just that he was never given the same chances. He dealt with difficult Pokémon too, just unbeknownst to the one he desperately wanted to impress. Fat load of good that did him.
He let her finish her berry then tried to get closer again.
“I’m going to take a closer look, okay? I’m not going to touch you,” he explained while doing so. She gave a startled hiss but didn’t try to bite him this time.
Upon closer inspection, it appeared her fur was the issue: it was badly tangled in the little root crevices, and her trashing had only made it worse. She would have never been able to get out of that on her own.
“Alakazam.”
The Pokémon nodded and soon a faint purple aura lighted up the Eevee, making her panic.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s just so you don’t hurt yourself while I untangle all this okay?”
Being bitten was one thing, but he couldn’t take the chance of her worsening her situation, so Alakazam had to hold her still with his powers.
Green carefully started working on the mess, trying to not pull on her hair as he got rid of the knots around the root’s shards. She squeaked plaintively from time to time but seemed overall sulkily resigned.
“I know I know, I am almost finished… How did you end up like this, seriously…”
He finally managed to untangle her but didn’t tell Alakazam to let her go just yet; he had to pull her from under the root first, he couldn’t take the risk of her getting right back to being stuck in her haste to get away. So he carefully slid his hands around her tiny body, ignoring her immediate screams (what a drama queen, one would think he was murdering her) as he carefully pulled her free then on the ground on the other side of the root.
“There you are.”
He then took a few steps back before Alakazam released her. She didn’t immediately dashed away the instant she could move again as expected: she looked at him dumbfounded for a few seconds, hissed, and then broke into a mad scramble into the nearest bushes. He laughed.
“I get why everyone’s gushing about Eevees now.” He looked at the bush she disappeared into before stretching. “Mmmh… let’s go back, Al; we did our good deed of the night and I know you need your beauty sleep.” Daisy hadn’t believed him the first time he assured her Pokémon could roll their eyes, and still he could swear it was exactly what Alakazam did just now.
They took the time to gather a few more berries and stack them nearby, then walked back to their encampment. He slept better that night.
The next morning, he found a single Pecha Berry right outside of his tent; there was a single, tiny bite in it. His reverberating laughter startled some Pidgeys nearby, getting him some offended squawks he couldn’t care less about.
Green swore as he stumbled for the umpteenth time on some dumb rock protruding from the treacherous trail he had been following for the last four days; an obvious attempt on his life, and no he wasn’t making things up, as everything here seemed to be designed to kill, maim, or seriously injure any unsuspecting passerby. Even the freaking pebbles were out to get him! Why the fuck Red would have willingly chosen to come here was irrefutable proof the guy had been a dingus in the making during all those years. He would drag his crazy ass down the mountain even if it was the last thing he did just to have the satisfaction of having a legitimate reason to beat the shit out of him, that was for sure!
That, or he would come back with Tyranitar just to have the pleasure of personally leveling down this hellish uselessly pointy rock to the ground.
Yeah, he could do that, too.
He put aside his fueling grudge against the inanimate landscape to check ahead; the first few days of his journey were spent inside the dark and unwelcoming stone tunnels that were the only way you could get inside the mountain, and only the keen sixth sense of Alakazam kept them from getting lost in their hollow maze. He avoided most confrontations with wild Pokémon either by going past them unnoticed or making a short détour. Gyarados made quick work of them either way if a battle was inevitable. They had managed to finally leave the claustrophobic atmosphere of the tunnels two days ago, and they were now in for a steep climb; the makeshift path he was trying to follow still under Alakazam’s guidance had become more barren and rocky, and only snow littered it now. Green hoped they didn’t have to spend several more days reaching the top, as foraging for food would prove to be an exponentially difficult challenge the higher they went.
He had brought some survival bars but they were mostly for Eevee and himself, as he obviously couldn’t carry the amount of food needed for all his Pokémon. He was perfectly aware of the risks he put them through during that trek and that’s why he couldn’t scale that mountain quick enough. Red or not, he would go back down in two more days, tops. It was the fifth day since their departure, and he was confident that they would reach the summit tonight at the latest. Thankfully, a blizzard had yet to descend on them with a vengeance like the stuff out of a Dream Eater, so their hike hadn’t been hindered since coming out of the cave. The temperature was absolutely freezing but was manageable as long as there was no wind, which became less and less the case the closer they got to their destination.
Soon it picked up, and he finally managed to get Eevee back into her Pokéball as the energy he had to muster to keep going was straining him, and he couldn’t watch his step and protect her from the icy gusts at the same time without risking suddenly tumbling down to his death; distraction, even for a split second, couldn’t be afforded anymore. He also called Pidgeot back in his; he would need him to fly back down and the current weather had no mercy on his wings. As sturdy as he was, he was no Fearow.
A few hours later, there was no more path to follow. The sun had begun its declining course in the sky, bringing with it the colorful hues of dusk. The cold, now biting, seemed to seep even through Green’s thick clothes, bought for the occasion, and he thanked Alakazam before calling him back into his Pokéball, at long last, but not before the Pokémon had mentally ingrained into his mind the dangerous way he had left to scale. Now that he was left to his own devices, Green had no room for errors; everything was covered in snow, making it near impossible to spot crevices and unstable terrain. Alakazam had projected into his mind the image of a cave entrance, so he at least knew what to look for, but succeeding in finding it before the night remained to be seen.
He went on, mandatorily slow and careful, as he was walking right alongside the jaded, slippery cliff, gloved hand on the hard stony wall; it was just large enough for one person, and he cursed Red once again that said person had to be him. The summit suddenly came into view after he turned the umpteenth corner: the snowy trail ahead of him flattened out in a gentle slope, which was a relief for his burning lungs and harsh breathing. His exhausted eyes scoured the remaining distance to cross, discovering that in fact, the trail stopped here: the mountain expanded out here, evening out in a large, flat area. The ground even curved slightly, like a crater, making it a convenient shelter from the unrelenting winds the further you went down. At least he knew where to plant his tent for the night.
As he scoped the perimeter to do just that, he caught from the corner of his eye the last rays of sunlight seemingly swallowed by some dark, impenetrable void somewhere ahead on his left. Turning his head, he felt his breath stuck in his throat, suddenly unable to leave his still burning lungs.
There, just across the peak, at the other end of the crater, stood the wide entrance of the cave he was looking for.
And just in front of it, Red and his Pokémon.
Green felt not only his lungs failing him, but his heart too seemed to skip a few beats, and he had to lean heavily on the stone wall to support himself.
Red was there.
He was alive.
And Green had found him.
Taking a few moments to get his breathing back and under control, he lifted his head back to his long-lost (ex?) friend; apparently he hadn’t been spotted (yet). He took this opportunity to observe him.
Green was too far to be noticed, but close enough to clearly distinguish what was happening; he could clearly decipher Red’s expression, as he had lit a fire (well, Charizard had, probably) just outside the cave. His Pokémon sat all around in a loose circle, Pikachu in his lap. They all seemed pretty well, considering the harsh conditions they must have lived in for the last five years. They all looked relaxed in a way that suggested they were used to this arrangement, snoozing, eating, or even playing together. Green watched as Pikachu, initially perched on Red’s shoulder, climbed down into his lap, stretching before curling up against him.
All in all, a very cozy spectacle.
Like a scene straight out of some movie where the protagonist finally finds their home at the end of a long, excruciating journey.
Home.
Yeah, it was exactly this: they looked at home.
All will to initially walk over and spoil the little party steadily left Green; the longer he watched them, the more he felt like an intruder, like he had no business spying on them like that. Like an unwanted spectator, and uninvited guest stumbling through a family-only dinner. A nosy unexpected third party that had no right to intrude upon such peaceful assembly. They looked…
Green’s breath stuttered, frozen in place, eyes never having left Red.
Red had smiled.
And he looked happy.
Green decided right then and there he had to get out of there. Fast. Before any of them noticed him (it was already a miracle none of them sensed his presence). He avoided thinking about how coming here was both a waste of time and a success, how his Grandpa would once again be disappointed in him for not bringing Red back, how-
He tried to will his feet to turn back in a daze, shook.
Red’s eyes caught his.
Green startled, inhaling sharply, stumbling on the slippery edge behind him.
Falling over and disappearing into the howling, icy void.