Work Text:
I've Got Your Back
"I hate it."
Tracey shook his head fondly at his friend. "No, you don't," he replied with absolute certainty. They did this every time and it was never as bad as she made it out to be. "Can I look?"
"Yeah…"
Her voice was lower, dejected, and Tracey felt terrible to hear it. His friend's confidence wavered so much these days it almost gave him whiplash sometimes, but it was improving. Slowly but surely, it was improving. With the new hormones and new name, and everyone calling her by that name, the confidence was building back up. She would grow into herself soon enough.
Tracey turned and smiled when he saw her. "Gabs, it looks nice."
Her hair was still in a messy ponytail and her makeup still needed to be done, but the dress looked fine. It actually might have been Tracey’s favorite that he had seen her wear. It suited her lean frame and the flared skirt gave the illusion of a more feminine waist than she currently had.
She looked doubtful, and Tracey couldn’t have that. Gary had been a younger brother to him and that made Gabrielle a younger sister - and Tracey took his responsibilities as a big brother seriously.
"Gabs," he repeated, stepping forward and resting a hand on her shoulder. "You look fine. You're not done getting dressed yet, don't judge it too harshly until then, yeah?"
"I guess…"
He knew her better than that. "What's wrong?"
Green eyes darted over everything but him, but Tracey waited patiently, certain he already knew what was worrying her. The hand on her shoulder tightened a little. "Gabrielle, it's just me," he reminded her gently. He had known about her long before anyone else had and he'd heard every insecurity along the way.
"I don't want to be just a boy in a dress…"
"You're not," Tracey immediately assured her. "You're a girl in a dress and everyone here knows that. You've got this, Gabs."
Gabrielle crossed her arms over her chest tightly, still not looking at him. "It doesn't feel like that…"
"Like what? That you're a girl or that we know you're one?"
She gave a listless shrug, gaze still on the floor. Tracey wasn't sure why he had expected a straight forward reply - Gabrielle tended to communicate more than Gary had, but still… He wasn't going to let her off the hook easily.
"C'mon, Gabs," he pressed, sitting on the edge of her bed and patting the spot next to him. "You know you need to talk about this stuff. It's just me."
She sighed and sank next to him. "I know that… It’s just hard." Tracey nodded his understanding and waited for her to talk at her own pace. "I know everyone here knows I'm a girl. I know I'm a girl… but I just. I feel like a boy in a dress right now."
"You don't look like one." She shot him a brief, doubtful look. It hurt to see the unshed tears in her eyes. "I mean it," Tracey emphasized. "Here - let your hair down."
"It's a mess," she warned him, eliciting a soft laugh.
"I've seen worse." The nervous wreck she had been before coming out had been far worse than tangled hair could possibly be.
She reached up and tugged at the hair tie until the auburn hair fell around her shoulders in a glossy sheet. It wasn’t even that messy. Tracey couldn’t help but smile as he reached out and gently straightened a few stray tendrils.
"There - look," he said softly, gesturing to the mirror across the room. "You're not a boy in a dress and everyone here knows that… And you know that better than anyone." He rested a hand on her shoulder and met her eyes. "It's okay to want things to change faster, but it takes time. Think of how long it takes to evolve a pokemon to its final form."
That brought a ghost of a smile to her face and Tracey returned it easily. “Is it so bad to want to get to that final form faster?” she asked quietly, gaze dropping to her lap. Her voice was tight and Tracey saw her wince when it cracked.
“Of course not. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t, you perfectionist." He mused the hair he had just straightened with a grin.
This time her smile was a little brighter, if a bit watery. They could never have a conversation like this without tears, though Tracey didn’t blame her in the slightest - she was still in a difficult part of her journey, but he knew things would get better. They already had gotten better and she knew that, but sometimes a reminder was needed.
Sometimes a friend just needed to be reassured that this difficult path was the right one, that the pain and hardships would be worth it. Tracey was always happy to do just that. Anything for his friends, and especially for this friend.
Now that she’d had the most important reassurance, they could focus on the main problem.
“What do you hate about the dress? You were excited when you got it.”
Excited was an understatement - she had been downright bubbly after that shopping trip with Chloe and Misty. It could have just been excitement over finally being able to be part of a girly day out shopping, but she had been so eager to show Tracey and the professor. The purple accents on the black dress perfectly matched the earrings the professor had bought her just after coming out and she had been so happy to have something that matched them.
Tracey knew she absolutely did not hate it.
She bit her lip and looked back at the mirror, frowning. “It’s fitting differently,” she finally said. “Chloe did something that made it look better, but now…”
“She should be here soon, I’m sure she can do whatever she did again,” Tracey reasoned. “Why don’t you start on your hair and makeup until then?”
“I guess…”
There was a knock on the door before Tracey could reply and a familiar voice called, “Gabrielle? Tracey? May I come in?”
Tracey breathed a soft sigh of relief - Delia would know what to do. He glanced at Gabrielle, who gave a small nod, before he called back. “C’mon in!”
The door opened and Delia appeared with a small tray of steaming mugs. She entered with her usual warm smile and offered them each a mug, which they took gladly. Hot chocolate was definitely welcome in this instance.
Always quick to notice when something was wrong, Delia sat on the bed on Gabrielle’s opposite side and rested a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong, dear?”
She looked down at her mug of hot chocolate and Tracey spoke up. “She’s feeling insecure,” he explained.
Delia nodded and took a sip from her own mug. “That’s normal for any teenage girl, dear,” she assured her. Tracey watched as she stroked Gabrielle’s hair, running her fingers through the tangles and straightening it gently. “Your dress looks lovely. Is this the one you were excited about?”
She nodded but stayed quiet so Tracey spoke up again. “Chloe did something to make it fit better, but…”
“I can help with that,” Delia offered, beaming. If Gary had been nearly a second son to her, then Gabrielle was a very welcomed daughter. Delia had helped in ways neither Tracey nor the professor could, and Tracey had the feeling that Gabrielle had helped Delia as well over the last few months by giving her someone that she could dote on. “Tracey, why don’t you help the professor wrap up in the lab?”
He nodded, grateful for her help, and nudged his friend in the ribs with his elbow. “You’ve got this, Gabs,” he reminded her.
She rolled her eyes at the nickname and Tracey felt a wave of relief. That was a good sign. He shot her one last smile as he left the room and headed downstairs. Sometimes a big brother could only do so much. Sometimes a mother’s helping hand was needed, and Delia was the kindest woman Tracey had ever met.
If anyone could help, it was her.
There were only a few things to be finished up in the lab before that evening’s party. It was Gabrielle’s nineteenth birthday party. Last year it had been Gary’s eighteenth but Tracey had already known about Gabrielle for a year, even if that name hadn’t come up yet. That party had been hard for both of them. For Tracey, it was gut-wrenching to see the pain in his friend's eyes and to know that she was struggling to see a future of any sort.
And no one other than Tracey even knew she was a girl. He couldn't imagine how it felt to be called something that was completely wrong, to be seen entirely wrong. It must have been terrible, considering the way she had declined any slices of birthday cake and retreated to bed early that night… only to end up in the hospital less than a month later. Tracey shook his head, chasing that thought away. That wasn't a memory anyone needed to relive today.
She may have been nineteen, but this was Gabrielle’s first birthday party, and everything was going to be perfect. Tracey would make sure of it. It had been a hard year for everyone, but for her especially. She deserved a good birthday.
He taped a few last streamers in place - lavender and dark purple this year - and peered around the living room at the afternoon's work. Tracey had never seen the room so thoroughly decorated: there were streamers, there were balloons, there was confetti, there was a banner… Perhaps it was a little overboard, but everyone had wanted to make this birthday party special.
There was already a sizable pile of gifts on the window seat - Tracey shook his head with a fond smile as he straightened the many boxes and boxes piled upon the cushions. He’d thought the professor had spoiled Gary, but that was nothing compared to Gabrielle. But Tracey couldn’t exactly call it spoiling: the professor had just taken every opportunity possible to allow her to redefine herself, and this was just another instance of that.
Tracey paused when he heard footsteps in the hallway and turned when he heard them abruptly stop.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked, grinning at his friend.
Gabrielle stood in the entryway, hair and makeup completed, her dress now fitting perfectly. She stared around briefly, blinking rapidly before tilting her head back and pinching the bridge of her nose, carefully keeping her eyes wide.
He knew what that meant. “Gabs -” He stepped forward to give her a hug but she shook her head and pushed him away.
“Don’t fuck up my makeup,” she warned, though her voice was tight and strained.
Tracey couldn’t help but smile. There was his friend: still a little sass even when she was fighting back tears. “Did we overdo it?” She nodded and Tracey laughed. “Good. That was the plan.”
She huffed out a tiny laugh and took a deep breath. “This is a lot.”
“It’s your first birthday actually being you , it was going to be a lot either way,” Tracey reasoned. “We just wanted it to be a lot of good this year.”
“You succeeded,” she replied, eyes still wide as she looked around the room. They widened even further when her gaze landed on the window seat. “Are all of those for me?”
That look of surprise made all the work of setting up well worth it. Tracey laughed again. “Of course they are.” She didn’t need to know that some were actually for her newest pokemon just yet. Especially considering she didn’t even know she had a new pokemon… or would in a few short weeks.
"Hey, Trace?"
Tracey looked up from his sketchbook and smiled when he saw Gabrielle in the doorway. She had washed off the makeup and changed into a pair of pajama pants and sweatshirt but her hair was still in the braid Delia had done. The sweatshirt had been his birthday gift to her last year - bright purple with the Kanto starters emblazoned on the front, and a wide neck sliding down over one shoulder. He’d had to give it to her privately after the party last year but it had become a very clear favorite since then.
"Hey," he greeted quietly, setting down his pencil and beckoning her in.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and absently pet Marill, who was curled up on her favorite pillow. "Thanks for earlier."
Tracey shook his head, still smiling. "It's nothing, Gabs."
"It's not," she pushed, meeting his eyes. "You've always done more than you need to and… It means a lot to me."
" You mean a lot to me," Tracey pointed out. "That's why I do it."
"Well, thanks either way."
"You're welcome." He hesitated, not wanting to bring up last year but curious nonetheless. "Was today better than last year?"
She nodded solemnly. "Last year I didn't think I would have another birthday," she admitted quietly.
Tracey felt his heart clench at those words. He’d known she felt something along those lines, but it still hurt to hear. "You're gonna have plenty more birthdays, Gabrielle," he promised.
"Thanks to you."
He smiled. "Give yourself credit too," he reminded her. "I might have helped a little, but you're the one that went through hell and came out the other side."
“Still, thanks.”
"You're welcome," Tracey repeated. “I’ve always got your back, Gabs.” He smiled again - enough with the serious talk. He knew there was something she would be far more excited to talk about. “Did you figure out the egg yet?”
She grinned at that, her eyes lighting up so bright that it made every late night conversation, every little pep talk, every difficult moment well worth it. They had all known she would have an accurate guess within five minutes, even with the ambiguous nature of normal type eggs. “It’s a skitty,” she declared confidently.
Accurate on her first guess, as always. Still, Tracey couldn’t resist. “Are you sure?”
Gabrielle rolled her eyes, clearly seeing through Tracey’s teasing with all the ease that a younger sister would. “You and Grandpa both asked me about pokemon I wanted but wouldn’t catch as a boy, and you guys used four different skitty wrapping papers on the presents.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a smirk. ”You didn’t exactly make it difficult, the vitals only confirm it.” Her eyes softened and she gave him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you.”
Tracey smiled and shrugged his shoulders with a gentle laugh. “Just helping my little sister get a pokemon she’s always wanted,” he replied easily. It was true because that was exactly what she was to him, and whether she was a little sister or the little brother she had once been, it didn’t matter.
He would have her back no matter what because, at the end of the day, his friend was still the same person she had always been. Only, now she was free and able to truly be herself… even if it meant getting self-conscious over a dress every now and then.